cesimpson

Today was the big race day. Master the Met 2009. Several weeks ago, when I decided to do it again, I set two goals.

1. Raise more money than last year ($100)
2. Be faster than last year (7:48)

I set a secondary speed goal: be faster than 7:00. Last year’s winner of my age/gender group did the 42 flights in 6:43. In my blog post from the race a year ago I wrote “The winner of the 30-39 yr old men category took the stairs in 6:43 - a number that will stick in my mind over the next 12 months.”…and it did.

Before I get too far along with the description of the race, let me thank you all on behalf of the American Lung Association. Their website claims a total amount raised of $225,822 That’s twice last year’s total; a huge number. For my part, you each helped me meet my first goal. I raised $275 and I have most of you all to thank for that.

Thank you all for your super-generous generosity.

Now, on to the race.

I was way less nervous standing in line than I was last year. I knew it would be tough, but I knew what I was looking at this year. There was perspective.

There was also, however, a gaggle of giggling girls in line in front of me. The youngest of them was probably 12 or so, the oldest maybe 15. They did not have perspective. They had no idea what they were facing…and I was behind them.

By this point I’m in full competition mindset. I’m warmed, my hips are loose, I’m ready to be let loose. I have no problems running over pre-teen girls, when in competition mode.

Luckily, I didn’t have to. Every one of them stopped at each landing (every half-floor) to chat with the girls behind her and for them to all collectively catch their breath. I passed the last of them in the middle of the third flight.

At floor 11 I remember one of the staff saying to me, “Good job. You’re a quarter finished!” I know there were staff stationed every other floor, giving pep talks. Floor 11 is the only one I remember.

Somewhere around floor 15 or 16 there was an odd scene on a landing. There was a young girl (12 yrs old, maybe?) and a man (I assume her father). She was dressed appropriately - gym shorts, sneakers, a t-shirt. He was not - a very nice three-piece suit and tie and he was carrying a briefcase. They both had race numbers pinned to their clothing. She was bent over, head on the rail, clearly feeling ill. He was holding her up, supporting most of her weight.

The scene was so bizarre, I thought it might have been some sort of hypoxic hallucination.

At floor 19 I realized higher brain functions had slipped away. I was very foggy in the head, unable to think about even very simple things. I turned the corner and just focused one foot in front (and about 16″ above) the other.

Floors 21-39 just slipped by. I had a steady rhythm going, double-stepping it all the way. I had to pass a few more people, but most of them just slipped right out of the way for me.

At 40 I forced myself to pick up the pace a little bit. I couldn’t muster much more, but every little bit counts. Coming up the last set of stairs, there again was that jack-ass photographer telling me to smile. I thought about giving him the ol’ Johnny Cash scowl and middle finger, but didn’t have the energy to pull it off properly. I ignored him and ran past.

Crossing the finish line at 42, I sat in a corner and waited for Marathoner and D. Marathoner started some 24 seconds behind me and wasn’t far behind me in the finish. D started between us and was just a bit later in showing up to the finish.

I asked Marathoner at the top, “Did you see a man in a three-piece suit walking the stairs with a young girl and a briefcase.”

“Yeah. That was weird, huh?”

“Yeah. Weird.” At least it wasn’t an hallucination.

Eventually we made our way downstairs, gathered our free T-shirt and Powerbar and celebrated we had “Mastered the Met”.

Once again, our times are posted on the Fleet Feet website. Very nice of them:

6:42!!!

Fifth Place in my age/gender group, 13th overall, more than a minute off my last year’s time and 18 seconds off my 7:00 goal. Not bad.

Thank you all, again, for your contributions. It is very appreciated.