March 2024
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The Fight for Air Climb

A week or so ago, I got together with one of my old workout buddies and a friend of hers to do the American Lung Association’s Fight for Air Climb. It probably would have gone a lot better if I’d trained more, but I still enjoyed it.

The concept is pretty simple, really. You raise at least a hundred bucks for the American Lung Association and, in return, you get to climb 41 flights of stairs up to the top of the BNY Mellon building in Boston. Some people would say that’s not much of a reward, but I… am not one of those people.

The event itself was incredibly well organized. Surprisingly well organized. I’m a bit of connoisseur  when it comes to athletic events, and even I was impressed. There was not a lot of standing around in line. There was, however, a lot of standing around in the lobby, because we assumed that there would be a lot of standing around in line. But, hey, no lines!

There were also a bunch of firemen milling about the lobby. So, really, no complaints here.

(Please, nobody tell my husband that I said that!)

They sent everybody up the stairs in waves, according to our numbers. We had all signed up at the same time, so we got to stand in a (short! so short!) line together. We had just enough time to snap a goofy photo.

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When I said that I didn’t really train, I mean that I didn’t really train. As in, no training. I’ve been working towards getting in shape for a half marathon, but I do most of my running on the track at the local Y. Not exactly a lot of elevation there. I took a lot of unnecessary trips up and down the stairs at home, but my office is in a one-story building. So, yeah, not a lot of training.

Which is why I found myself in the stairwell going, “hmmm… what’s my strategy here?” I eventually settled on fake it until you make it. And by “make it” I mean, “realize there is no way you are running up 41 flights of stairs, so start walking.” In other words, I ran up eight flights of stairs, and then wheezed my way up the last 33 or so.

I’m not usually into “awareness raising,” but I thought it was really well done in this case. The organizers put up posters on all of the landings between floors. The first half of the climb, most of the posters were of the rah-rah “you are now higher than the bunker hill monument!” variety. But the later posters were various facts about lung diseases and pictures and stories about friends and family members that various climbers have lost to lung diseases.

By about the 35th floor or so, my lungs were on fire, and all I could think was, “lung disease must be a shitty, shitty, shitty way to die.” I knew I was feeling awful, but not anywhere near as awful as people with pulmonary fibrosis or lung disease do. Plus, I got to finish my climb, suck on a cough drop, drink a bunch of water, and then go back to my regular life.

I finished in about ten minutes. Which is not bad, considering all the training that I didn’t do. But is kinda bad, considering we overheard a kid (who couldn’t have been much more than 9 years old) talking about how he did the whole damn thing in less than ten minutes.

But, hey, I finished.

We took a picture of the three of us at the top. But I look morbidly obese in it. So, yeah, I will not be posting that picture.

Look! Cool view of the city!

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I’d like to do the climb again next year. After, you know, running up a stair or two. And maybe after getting Kristian and some friends to sign up with me. Stair climbers love company.

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