Stairs and fitness notes: improvement needed

Monday 4/27/26

Some fitness accounting, checks and balances, log of accountability.

On Saturday, I saw the most amazing performance I ever have in the Monument. No, it wasn't by me. You don't see yourself, do you? Well, I guess you do. But it was by this man--who must have been in his sixties--who showed up wearing shorts despite the cold, and these really big gloves. Like, you're outside in winter in Alaska gloves.

He was nattering on, making random remarks and bad jokes in this highly animated speed-chatter manner. He was kind of nuts. I was first in line, but when the doors opened, he blew past me. Unlike most people, I had no problem with this. Rather, my curiosity was piqued. This guy sprints into the Monument itself, and proceeds to take the stairs--many two-at-time--at this fierce gallop all the way to the top.

I was so impressed. I've never seen him before. I don't expect to see him again. He'd been there before. He was just too familiar with everything. But was the last time like fifteen years ago? Or when he was a kid?

This told me--and I didn't need to be told, because I've been telling myself--that I need to do better in the Monument and there's much room for improvement. So there's that. But at the same time, as I was going up for my second climb, me and this guy passed each other as he was coming down for the first and only time at stair 150, so in that way I also had him beat. I do okay here, but I can do better there.

The muscles around my knees aren't as strong as they should be at present. I run up a certain number of stairs and I feel myself weakening in that region. It's not my actual knees, the bones, the structure. Which means there's no excuse for this and that it can be remedied with effort. So I've been pushing this lately, not letting myself stop. You push through it, the thing gets stronger. It gets taken care of.

I can tell myself that it's still early in the stair-running season. I'm well ahead of where I was at this time last year, for instance. Our days here are still more like winter than spring. It's been rare when I've gone to Charlestown in April and it hasn't been in the forties. That means more clothes. And it can simply be harder to shake it off and get up and going when it isn't temperate. You have the wind whipping against you as you go over the bridge.

These sound like excuses, but they're not, because obviously I am putting the time and effort in. But this is still the "down" season. And the Monument opens at 1 instead of 10, which will change on May 23. The late start can be problematic for me as someone who often starts his day at midnight.

What's supposed to happen is that I continuously get better and stronger. How long is that supposed to continue for? Until the end. Others would say that this isn't possible, but I don't believe that. I believe you have considerable control in this area and if you make the choice to put in the effort and be dedicated, then the things that would be factors and issues for other people aren't factors and issues for you and the clock you're on is your own, that of your own effort and dedication.

I feel as I felt at ten-years-old. Nothing in my body feels different than it did then. I feel considerably better than I did over the many years in which I drank. I had pain then, too, that I don't know. In joints, my back, my feet. It's rare for me to have any discomfort now. A twinge, an ache, soreness. If there's soreness, it'll be the result of some extreme amount of exertion, and it will be mild and pass within hours.

On Wednesday I walked three miles, did 300 push-ups, and ran five circuits of stairs in the Bunker Hill Monument. On Thursday I walked three miles, did 100 push-ups, and ran ten circuits of stairs. On Friday I did nothing. On Saturday, I walked three miles, did 100 push-ups, and ran ten circuits of stairs. Yesterday I walked six miles, did 100 push-ups, and ran five circuits of stairs.

I've now run 170 circuits of stairs inside the Bunker Hill Monument since 3/11. That is about 100,000 stairs in total, not counting, of course, the stairs ran at City Hall. Yesterday marked 3570 days, or 510 weeks, without a drink.