I’m sitting on the marble bench surrounding the gathering area for the post-race party when a lady I recognize from the vertical mile approaches me.  “Are you o.k.?”  I recognize her but don’t know her.  I’m immediately thinking to myself; do I look that bad?  “I’m fine” I reply, “Why?”  “I was really worried about you, watching you, your color was way off”.  “When did you see it during the race” I asked.  “Somewhere on the 8^th climb”.  “Just checking to see if you are o.k.”.   I thanked her for the concern and she rejoined her group.  Her comment would later resonate with other events during the race.

I’m flying into Omaha from my least favorite airport, O’Hare, Chicago.  There’s no direct flight from Cleveland so I’m stuck with Cleveland to O’Hare and O’Hare to Omaha.  Fortunately, Omaha turned out to be a very nice city.  The connections went well and my worries about the weather were a waste of energy.  Up in my room in DoubleTree (I was too late to get the other hotel at a reduced group rate) I immediately notice on opening the shades that directly across the street big as life is the National Bank Tower.  I mean it is a stone’s throw from the hotel.  It fills the window.  Then I notice as I open my door right across the hallway is the door to the stairs!  Two good omens!  Little did I know how true this was to be.

This is a vertical mile, running up the stairs of a skyscraper for the equivalent of 5,280 feet.  On this building it is 10 consecutive climbs of 40 floors plus an additional 17 floors.  It is a real test of endurance.  There’s no rest.  This is double stepping the whole way, as fast as you can.

I go to bed at 8 p.m. for a full 9 hours sleep, rising at 5 a.m.  I’m 69 years old and the days of hopping out of bed to a race without a warm up routine are over.  Come to think of it, I never could do that.  The race asked not to come before 6:45 a.m. but with a 7 a.m. start that makes no sense to me.  Sure enough when I get there at 6:30 the place is filling up fast.  There are tons of single climbers.  I can tell the difference between the younger single climbers and the vertical milers.  The V.M.’s are not socializing; they are deep into their own thoughts and doing warmups.  I could never understand an intense warm up for a vertical mile.  But every man/woman to him/herself.  The line forms.  I’m not going to the front; I’m placing myself mid-way.  The horn sounds and race begins.

For me the V.M. is a conundrum, an unsolvable problem.  Somewhere, at least for me, my brain checks out around the 8^th of a 10-climb race.  I just cannot think.  On last year’s Dallas V.M., on the 10^th of 12 climbs, I forgot to get my sticker after doing the 10^th climb.  I took the elevator down before I got my sticker.  Realizing my mistake, I turned to a volunteer and asked what to do.  “You need to go back up”.  Crap!  The problem was, unlike this race where time is not an issue with a cut off time of 11 a.m., the Dallas race had a 2.5-hour time limit.  I was determined not to make the same mistake so I brought with me a dial counter I hang around my neck for hill repeats.  After a while you forget how many you have done.  I did not bring it with me from the hotel room.  I figured it was overkill; this race was fool proof the way it was set up.  Not with this fool.  Sure enough, on the 8^th climb, I got to the top and jumped on the elevator.  Someone was in the elevator, I think it was Jason Duncan, catching his breath, and all he said was “your band”.  I realized my mistake, went back up and got the band.  They were very nice about it.  “We yelled at you trying to get you back”.  The conundrum is you need to monitor your energy expenditure but that is hard to do without a brain.

I had just finished one lap, 40 floors and came back down to the starting point.  It is full of climbers, socializing, talking, laughing, having a good time.  I try to make my way past the line.  The race is set up giving V.M.’s a priority at the starting line.  We don’t need to get in line.  As it turns out, one has to be firm to get through.  I did feel guilty after the start of my climb 8 because the kids just wouldn’t move out of the way and I realized after I kind of pushed through I sounded crabby.

At the beginning of my 5^th climb I go to the area where we could keep our drinks/food/towels and grab a Ningexia drink pack.  And I start to cry.  What is going on?  I cover my face with a towel.  Emotions are raging.  I throw down the towel and run to the starting line.  I’m not sure what is happening to me and I don’t want to know.  I’m a tower runner, and the race is on.  No time for thinking, just keep moving.

On one elevator ride down, I think on the 7^th climb, there’s a volunteer talking with another lady who was not part of the climb.  The lady asks what is going on.  The volunteer replies “It’s a virtual mile race”.  I immediately correct her, “NO it’s a vertical mile”.  I tell myself “Jeff, chill out!”  I’m beginning to lose it emotionally.

I’m on the 6^th climb, or am I?  I can’t remember.  Half way up I round the corner and there is a young lady doing a full body leg stretch on the stairs!  What the hell?  She slides to the right just in time.  I’m feeling good, too good.  I’m not getting overly tired.  I’m thinking of the change in my training.  The HIIT work, the long sessions double stepping on the stair mill, the lower leg step-ups on a high bench over and over.  I had noticed my legs are thicker.  I am definitely stronger.  On my first climb, someone flew by me after 10 floors.  “Must be a single climber.  No, she can’t be…they don’t start until the V.M. climbers are done starting” I think to myself.  I am now passing this young lady.  She doesn’t sound or look good.  The stairs are filling with single climb climbers, mostly young people, kids, teens, 20 somethings.  At first I’m swinging to the right for them, but that gets old fast when I see them later pooping out, so I stay on the left and let them pass on the right, with one exception…I can hear the serious climbers behind me so I swing to the right.  Most of them say “thanks”.  One guy, however, chose to run into me as I swung to the right, knocking me off balance. In an instant I was going to run back into him.  I’m not thinking clearly and my emotions are off the charts, but he quickly says “sorry”.

I’m at the top again, getting a new band.  This is a well-run race.  You get a new band for every climb up.  That way there’s no screw up’s as to the number of climbs completed.  Beginning with the 5^th climb, I ask the volunteer, “How many do is have left…I’m not thinking clearly”.  He tells me “six including this one, and then to floor 17”.  I can’t process it.  What?  How many is that I’m thinking on the elevator ride down.  I ask a volunteer at the starting line.  “I don’t know”.  I’ll worry about that later, just keep climbing.

I must say the volunteers at the top changing the wrist bands and placing letters on the bibs were great.  I kept telling them “I’m not thinking clearly”.  They said “Don’t worry that’s what we’re here for”.

They give me my 10th and final wrist band and tell me “This is the last time you’ll be up here. Next time you stop at floor 17”.  I feel a wave of panic.  I can’t think to put 2 + 2 together…how am I going to remember that?  I go down for the final 17 floor climb.  I planned on pedal to the metal but I’m running out of gas.  I don’t ever remember the 17^th climb, only that it ended.  It was strange.  I thought maybe there would be a group cheering at the top, but there only the volunteer and a climber getting a massage.  I crossed the mat and fell to one knee, “Are you o.k.”  “I’m fine” as I caught my breath.  “Stay down for a minute”.  I went over to a lady giving massages.   She works on my upper trapezius.  “They’re tight and it’s not tightness from the race, it’s more than that”.  She does a great job on my shoulders.

A few days ago, I posted on Facebook that this race was special for me.  It was about dragons we all face in life.  Relationships that end.  Opportunities that didn’t pan out despite all our work, the doctor giving test results that don’t look so good.  Not this time, I told myself.  This time I’m meeting this dragon on a level playing field and the results will be different.  This dragon is going down!

I check the results online.  Average time for all my climbs was 9.43.   I’m only seeing one other male climber in their 60’ and he’s faster than me but technically not in my age group the way this race is set up.  I laugh when I think to myself “First in your age group!”, the only one in my age group.  There’s no group age results for the V.M. in this race.  “But wait”, I’m thinking, “I passed a ton of young climbers on my 10^th climb, and they were doing one climb!  It’s got to count for something!”.  Oh well.   A very rough comparison to the 2019 Dallas V.M.  Total time for 5,280 feet in Dallas was 1:45, one hour, 45 minutes.  For this climb, 1:43.  I’m very happy with that.  Two minutes faster for a V.M. climb is huge.

On the flight home I realized something.  There was a point in the race where I was thinking about the Facebook post and it got me very emotional, and I recalled it was during the 8^th climb.  That’s the climb the lady said she was worried about me; I didn’t look good.  That’s when the dragon went down.