It's the doing that matters

Saturday 5/30/26

The Monument was closed of course on Monday and Tuesday but after a successful weekend of stair running I returned to City Hall on Tuesday for a quick 3000 stairs. I didn't want to stand down for two straight days. Also did 150 push-ups. On Wednesday I was back in the Monument for five circuits and then did the same on Thursday, with 100 push-ups each day and three miles walked on Wednesday and six on Thursday. No push-ups yesterday but did ten circuits in the Monument and walked another three miles.

The weather was just about perfect for stair running. Fridays tend to be a weaker day with the new week beginning for me first thing Saturday morning, but there was no reason to stop. There weren't many people in the Monument either. It seems like there has been less people since they new hours began last Saturday. Small sample size, obviously. Why would there be less people? They get started later in the day, maybe? Or it could just be random.

The reason I prefer there to be less people isn't the one that you might assume--that is, less traffic. Usually that's not an issue. It's more peaceful for me with less people. Internally. The sound of your own breath, the sound of your own footfalls. That's good for you. Centering.

An official Monument week of stairs is Wednesday to Sunday and I believe my record for circuits in that time is fifty but it could be a bit more I suppose. From Saturday to yesterday, I did fifty circuits in the Monument. Same amount of days, also fitting within a week. An unofficial record, like if you hit a bunch of home runs in the second half of one season and then a bunch in the first half of the next but it doesn't all count towards the same season. Or as when Wade Boggs hit .400 over 162 games between two seasons. There was that day at the City Hall stairs, too. All in all I've done an okay job lately stair-wise.

I have not seen the ranger who mentioned something to me about that "solution" which I don't really need--I simply need to not be accused of things I haven't done to anyone--since last Saturday.

There's plenty of room for improvement both with my legs and lungs. I've done a fair job sticking with it and piling up the reps I guess you could say, but my breathing has been better in times past and my leg muscles have also been in better shape. For instance, the muscles around my knees. Over the last two days I've tried to go harder at certain points, especially near the start. Push through where I've normally been backing off some. With effort and consistency there should be improvement. At the same time, I'm better at other things now, too. It'd be better, though, to put it all together. There's no reason not to.

I'd need to check through this record, but my sense is that I wasn't out there as often as I am now in times past, but I could be wrong. There wasn't this push to add to my numbers like there is at present. This means my legs maybe had more time to recuperate generally or cumulatively speaking.

Prior to the shutdown last year, I'd gotten to a point where recovery was a non-factor. I was always the same. That was probably the best shape my legs have ever been in. My breathing could have been better, though. My legs always look the same, of course. I'm talking about how they feel. I ramped it up earlier this year than last--I believe I didn't have a ten circuit day until perhaps May of last year--so I'm likely on track.

I can't stress it enough: it's the doing that matters. In stairs, in writing, in thinking, in accountability, in morality. You must tend to that business. Can't fall back, step aside for too long, let go of the rope. My respect for these stairs is tremendous. I know that I'm not their master. That these stairs I go up and down many times on days like these are stairs that I could also barely make it up once or not at all. They would be unchanging and I would have changed. My same stairs on which I've spent so much time and left so much sweat.

This would be painful for me and it would also feel like I was less of myself. For these stairs--in terms of what they represent as this thing I do for the reasons I do it--are a part of me. I never take them for granted. The same as I never take the brilliant idea for granted or the line that no one else could write or an act of selfless devotion.

There was actually someone inside the Monument cleaning yesterday which I've never seen before. I was the first civilian inside the doors and this fellow was already inside. I expected to find him as I went along given the lemony scent and that there was no trash on the ground.

I was accosted a second time by a ranger which I hadn't documented here the day after another ranger had accosted me. I had enough of this and let this ranger know in rather clear--but polite--terms. This was because of people complaining, as though I did something to them. I told this ranger to check the video. He said there was no video. (Seems like there should be, right?) If there were, all one would see is me being courteous to almost everyone. Or else just doing what I do--going up and down. No rudeness, no insults, no confrontations. If anything is started, it's someone having a go at me, repeatedly, and then finally me saying something.

What people have a problem with--it's the same as publishing, where I have never done anything wrong to anyone, else you'd have heard about it, wouldn't you have?--is what I represent to them. That's their issue. Not how I treat them. Not anything I did to them. I'll say it again: the issue people have with me is what I represent to them. This thing that they aren't. This person who can do what they can't. It's not in my conduct. It's in my aspect.

I gave the example before of when they first open the doors and a bunch of people go in, with me among them. I gave this same example to this ranger I'm talking about now. Let's say there are ten people in front of me and five behind. I don't try and pass the ten people as we go up. The situation's what it is. I'm behind these people. When I run these stairs, I only do so with a clear runway. Often I have it. Only so many people are allowed in at once. They often linger at the top once they finally get there. That leaves open space for me, especially with the one in, one out policy in effect. But many times there aren't twenty people or whatever that number is in there. It's me and four people.

I don't normally pass people going up as they're moving because they're going to fall by the wayside soon enough. Stop to take a break, that is. Then I go by. But if people keep a trudge-like pace, they'll sometimes get to the top sans stopping. I mean, we're barely moving, but technically moving. Again, that's just how it's going to be and I accept this. It counts as a circuit all the same. Not ideal, but hey, that's how it goes.

As I said to this ranger, these people are super chummy with me. We're all in the same boat! In their simple minds, anyway. People are narcissistic. They assume you're like they are. You couldn't be more. Couldn't be better. And if they discover that you are, they like you less. Usually. Unless they're secure in themselves and/or someone who admires others and perhaps seeks to emulate them in their own personal fashion/version.

Fewer and fewer people than ever before are like this, though. People are hostile and crab-like. Defensive. Insecure. Think of the analogy of the bucket of crabs. One crab is about to get out, and the other crabs pull it back down so that no crabs get out.

These people make their awful jokes. They're morons. I don't know what else I should think on that score. They have no self-awareness. Each of these people who say, "Is there a restaurant at the top" think they're the funniest fucker to ever live. Like everyone doesn't make this same dumb joke. They think they're the first to have come up with it. That only they could.

I don't like morons. They've made this world what it is. It's them. And their lack of effort. Their refusal to learn, communicate better, think more. They don't even know that they're the problem. That they're the cause of the things that make their own lives miserable. You need to try harder. You need to think more. You need to be smarter. You need to be your own person. You have that control. The same as I have the control to go to this obelisk and work at going up and down it.

We all get to the top, and these people might as well be swimming in an ocean of their own jizz. They are so self-congratulatory. The entire time I've heard them boast about what a workout they're doing. This is their workout for the week. They talk about how impressive it is to get their heart rate up like this and make comments about how many calories they must be burning.

We're going up some stairs. Once. Slowly. A workout isn't doing anything once for starters. And now that they've reached the top, they're going to sojourn there. Whereas, I hit that top step, and I'm on my way back done, finally disencumbered of these people. I have open road--stairs--in front of me. I get to the bottom and turn around just as fast and it's back to the top, where these people still are. They see me again. They begin to realize that I'm not one of them. I'm not like them. Just as they're realizing that maybe they shouldn't have been so quick to self-congratulate. For here is proof that what they just did wasn't impressive at all. You're not Odysseus.

I'm not looked at the same way by these people anymore. Their eyes narrow. They view me suspiciously. They're on their guard. I'm a predator having gotten close to their cozy campfire. Down I go again, and up I come once more, and they're still there. They dislike me now. I'm a threat. An enemy. Again I go down, and this time, as I'm going up, they're coming down. Some will be hostile. I've done nothing to them. They'll mutter about me under their breath. Say something rude about me to the person they're with. Often, they'll want me to hear this.

But I thought we were stair buddies? I thought we were same-boat chums?

See? I've done nothing. I've done nothing to these people. Their problem with me is what I represent to them. Same deal as publishing. It's the exact same thing. That's what is happening with a Carolyn Kuebler and the thousands of people in the subculture that is publishing who are just like her. They're the pant loads congratulating themselves at the top of the Monument who are then beholding the person who is the actual and real deal.

This ranger said to me that he had to have the conversation with me because it was his job. As I said, I'd had enough of being falsely accused by people who should know better, whom I am very polite to each day. Every day upon my arrival, I ask them how they are. I never enter the Monument itself, even after the doors are opened and I'm the first one into the lodge, without asking if it's okay to go up. They have to keep a count as I said. I don't assume I can just being. I wait for permission. I stand on ceremony every single day. I'm not casual. I'm respectful. I'm friendly and formal.

You know what I say when I leave each time? I thank the rangers on duty. For what? I just thank them. You won't find someone who behaves more politely to people out in the world. With everything I have going on. And it's genuine because of my moral code. I need to be a certain in order for me not to be a problem with me. I have all the problems I can handle and they are killing me. Each day is now potentially my last and I feel that up close and intensely. This record has been very candid about what I'm going through and how that's worsening. I can't have disappointment in myself added to my list of problems. I can't feel bad about how I act or fail to act.

I said to this ranger that it seems odd to me that this is part of his job, giving me this hard time, and yet apparently it's not a part of any ranger's job here at the Monument to actually go into the thing and clean out the trash, which to me seems like it should be the most basic part of the job.

What could he say to that? These rangers rarely ever enter the Monument. I'll see the same trash on the ground--because I'm looking at the ground practically the entire time so that I don't trip--for weeks on end. The same exact wrappers.

So the summer hours start, and what do you know, there's a park service employee in the Monument picking up the trash and disinfecting the railing. Coincidence? I'm thinking probably not.

I don't create problems for anyone and I expect no one to create problems for me. When they do, I am forced to do or say something about it. But even then, it takes a while, and I have to be backed into a corner. Like with publishing. I took the discrimination--which is so obviously discrimination--for decades. And the abuse. The theft. The lies, manipulation. Then I did something.

I mentioned Carolyn Kuebler above. Search her name in this record, read those accounts, and anyone would know that's a bad person acting out of envy and resentment towards someone else that she knows is better at the thing she'd like to be good at and smarter. Right? Nothing could be clearer. And yet, despite knowing this all along, I still tried with her, polite as could be, for many years.

I expect things to be on the level. I expect fairness. I expect not to pay the price of someone else's shortcomings and their insecurities regarding those shortcomings and be attacked or discriminated against because of those shortcomings and insecurities.

I think these are pretty basic things to ask and yet I know they're too much to expect. More so as we become nastier, pettier, less substantial, more hollowed out, with venom filling those hollows that is in turn meant to be spat at others without these same chasms of emptiness.

It was nice to have a cleaner Monument. I shudder to think of how many germs are ordinarily living on that rail.