Stair Climb

    The Annual Firefighter's Stair Climb. I had never even heard of the fundraising event until 10 days before the event was to happen. Raising funds for cystic fibrosis, it is exactly what the name implies. Firefighters climbing stairs. In this case, 40 flights up the Bancorp Building in downtown Portland. 40 stories is some serious altitude. It is done in full Turnouts; heavy jacket, pants, heavy boots, helmet and SCBA (self contained breathing apparatus). It is probably a good 50 plus pounds of gear, and being that it is fireproof, it is thick and does not breathe. At all. Sweating profusely is part of the game. Dripping wet, saturating sweat. And the SCBA, I do not have much practice with it yet, so it had the feel of an Alien Facehugger.
    So, to pick up where my last writing left off: Blasting crosstown from Saint John's to downtown Portland. Not fun under any circumstance. Less fun with a tight schedule and not a clear idea of where the hell I was going. Of course, I passed my street and went about ten blocks before I realized my error. That may not sound like much, but in Portland where all streets are one-way, and have bus only lanes, and Maxx trains dominating, and add in the police cordoning off random streets for the AIDS Walk, it all had a nightmarish quality. I could actually see the building I needed to reach, since it is the tallest one in the area but could not reach it. Finally, knowing time was running out, I parked about five blocks away and schlepped all my gear to the location. Damn, I was already tired, and then hauling gear with tired arms, it was like adding an extra leg to the race. Finally, the building loomed into sight and I staggered inside. Thankfully I was met by a few of my comrades from Station One, they relieved me of my burdens so I could sign in, get my timing chip and slip into gear. The bag pipes were already playing for the Tenth Battalion as I pulled on my Turnouts, glad that we have to practice gearing up and my best time so far is 58 seconds. I fell into the second to the last position, in the last battalion, and tightened straps as we walked.
    I had about 15 minutes to gather myself, chat with the others standing in line, as we were sent in one by one. I pulled on the mask of my SCBA, breathing through the filter, not hooked to O2 yet. We chatted, our voices amplified and tinny through the built in microphones of the mask. Finally, my turn. I clipped on the O2 and was rewarded with a shot of cool, pure oxygen. Time to climb. I was already tired. I started up, my legs complaining that we had already swam half a mile, biked 12, and ran a 5K. I told them to shut the hell up. Three flights up and I didn't think I could keep going, my legs were so damned tired, and I was using a ridiculous amount of oxygen trying to keep my flagging muscles supplied. But I kept climbing. I started counting down the remaining flights: only 36 to go, 29 to go, 27 to go... It seemed like an eternity. At about the 25th floor I had to take off the SCBA mask, I was running low on O2 and knew I wouldn't be able to cope with that last gasp of air that sucks the mask to your face. Yeah, I wimped out on that one. I kept climbing. The Captain that had come in last, behind me, passed me, as I was now pausing at every floor, convincing myself I could do this. A volunteer came up behind me, he was like the chase boat in my first Tri swim, keeping an eye on the last entrant, Me. He offered to take the SCBA, I declined, I could do this. My exhausted quadriceps burned, complained, ached, trembled. Each step was a minor victory.
    Finally, floor 40, Victory. But wait. What cruel jest? I have to climb to 41. Not funny. Not funny at all. But I continued upwards. Stepped through the door and was met by a small crowd relieving me of my SCBA, helmet and jacket, handing me ice cold water, shaking my hand and congratulating me. I was suddenly far less tired. I was elated. The agony of the climb forgotten. One of my comrades was there, waiting for me. We sat and drank water, chatted, congratulated each other, laughed at how much harder it was than we had imagined. I had made it to the top. Another challenge accepted and met. Not fast, certainly, but Epic, definitely.
    Next year I will be better prepared, a (almost) vetted firefighter and not a complete newb, and in much better shape. I am not sure what I will do if the Stair Climb and Portland Tri fall on the same day again. I may blow off the Tri, not because of the physical difficulty of two events in the same day, but because I want to revel in the pageantry of the Stair Climb; firefighters massing, marching, being led by a Piper in full Highland regalia. I want to experience the whole event, not just a small slice. And next year, I will ace this.