Twenty circuits of stairs ran in the Bunker Hill Monument for the eleventh time

Monday 8/24/26

I wasn't as productive as I should have been work-wise over the weekend (there are no weekends here as others think of them) but a few important matters (in terms of what the art actually is) were taken care of.

Meanwhile, on the stair front, which is both its separate thing and something that plays a part in keeping me here and strong enough to endure and create the art, I did a pretty good job over the two days.

On Saturday, I walked to Charlestown and ran ten circuits in the Monument. As I was coming back to the North End, I mentioned to someone I was talking to that I could have carried on and that I want to have a day like that soon, and they asked why I didn't today.

I said, first of all, ten circuits is plenty. That's a lot of stairs. I'm unsure sometimes if people understand what 294 stairs--which is how many stairs there are in the Monument--constitute or "look like" or whether it's so afield of their own experiential framework that it's just a number.

To put it another way: the Monument is twenty stories high. So you're running up and down a twenty-story building ten times on a morning like this.

Then I said that I didn't want to damage my phone on account of my shorts being so wet. Also, that it's tedious. This isn't "fun." It's beneficial. It takes commitment, focus, presence. It is good for a person physically, mentally, intellectually, spiritually, and, for me, artistically as well. And I'd say morally, too.

But this isn't playing pickle ball in the park, you know? This is an extreme endurance workout that I do most days. Running the record of twenty circuits is like a three-hour proposition. So there's that as well. Three hours of up, down, up, down, up, down, up, down.

They also asked why I wanted to have a record-tying type of day in the near future, and I said that it'd been since June that I did twenty and they kind of implied that I'd need to work my way back up to that.

This isn't how it works. If you go nearly every day and put the time in, you can make the jump to twenty. For me, the core unit of five circuits determines where I'm at and what I can do.

That is, if I went most days and did five circuits each time, I could go to twenty circuits without some kind of progression. I've done this for a long time. I know how it works, I've figured it out, at least as far as my own body (and psyche) goes.

All of this talk roused the competitive beast within and impelled me to change my clothes, drink some water, and head straight back for another ten circuits, thus bringing me to twenty circuits in a day for the eleventh time in the ten years that I've been doing this, with nine of those times coming since last June, the other two being pre-COVID.

This was quite difficult with the humidity. The last five circuits--and the last three especially--were demanding. Real struggle. I was bent over a number of times. Some people asked if I was okay.

So, all in all, I wouldn't say this was a great feat on my part, the total number of circuits aside. Or maybe it was a great feat because I hit this number in that humidity, and I should be more reasonable along these lines, but I tend not to and it makes me feel guilty when I do though I know that's probably ridiculous.

It's just how I am--exceedingly hard on myself. There was much chatter from the people in the Monument about said humidity on this day. "Can't wait to get back outside into the cooler air," that kind of thing.

One thin, fit woman told the friends she was with that her pants were wet with sweat, and that, of course, was from going up the one time. Not the kind of thing a person shares unless the conditions are that much of an obvious factor.

But whatever--it got done. The number was in hand.

I'd estimate that I probably lost five or six pounds through sweating. There were a few times later at night that cramps started to come on, but I was able to make them go away without having to drink any pickle juice.

A great deal of drinking ensues for the rest of the day after a workout of this nature. You need to make sure to keep drinking. It isn't even really about thirst after you've taken care of that; it's about replenishment. I also did 100 push-ups and, because of the two trips to Charlestown, walked six miles.

Now, having said all that, and done all that, I'd say that yesterday was actually the more encouraging day for me stair-wise. There's a stair-based lesson here. Where do you think I was, about twenty hours later after wrapping up twenty circuits of stairs in the Monument? That's right, standing outside the door, waiting for it to open at ten AM.

That speaks to its own thing. My body felt completely normal. No aches, no pain. No nothing, as if I hadn't done anything, let alone basically just run the stair version of a marathon a day before.

That's probably not an accurate way of putting it, though. I think my body feels the way it does because of what I do. That is, I'd feel worse if I did nothing. Which perhaps sounds counterintuitive to some, but this is how it works. It's like if you write more, you can come up with more. You don't exhaust a supply.

I think this is hard for people to understand, whatever task, activity, pursuit, we're talking about. They often need to live this, to be aware of it.

I wanted to do five circuits. But a good job with those five. And that's what I did. My pace was pretty decent. I finished the five in less than a half hour. I was encouraged by this. To turn around and be back in there, have no ill effects, not even any heaviness in the legs, and move at that clip, made this to me the more satisfying, encouraging day.

I've written in this record over the summer about how I don't know where I'm at, wondering aloud whether I've somehow backslid or has the summer weather been the cause of what I consider my struggles, and this made me think, "Okay, this is some real deal stuff right here."

It could be that I'm at a higher point than I've previously been, or as high as any other preceding point and fighting through and showing up every day this summer--including the days out at City Hall--is a big part of the reason why.

The dew point was in the mid-sixties and then the upper sixties yesterday while I was doing this, too, so it's not like the conditions were ideal either. There weren't that many people in the Monument yesterday while I was in the Monument, which was welcome.

But here we had a twenty-circuit day and a five-circuit day, and I found the latter to augur more favorably. It isn't really about those big, splashy numbers. Not when you really understand stairs. And yourself as well. Whether that's your body, your mind, or both.

Then I walked another three miles, which brought the total for the day up to six, and thus the weekend's total up to twelve--these miles being in addition to the stairs that were ran--and did another 100 push-ups. For the second straight week, I did forty circuits in the Monument. Forty circuit weeks are rare, so obviously back-to-back forty-circuit weeks are rarer still. That brought my total to 601 since March 11. Yesterday also marked 3689 days, or 527 weeks, without a drink.

A final note to this entry: As I was stepping out of the Monument on Saturday at the close of those twenty circuits, a couple in their early thirties were on their way in. People perfectly able-bodied. In other words, not the kind of people that David Sedaris would want to make fun of and belittle, and people that Joshua Boger would support someone like David Sedaris in making fun of and belittling.

Picture this: we're out in the open in that space between the door to the Monument and the door to the lodge. They can see me, and I can see them, head to toe. You can imagine what I looked like. A guy who'd just done some stuff, certainly. I'm in my workout clothes. Got the headband on. I don't look like a tourist. I'm not with the wife and kids.

And this woman says to me--at what might have been the worst ever time to say it--"Is it worth it?"

Meaning, bothering to go to the top the once. You know, the thing you probably came here to do if you came here.

Wow does that attitude sicken me. The stupidity in seeing me as I then am, and not being able to deduce that I'm not doing what you're doing sickens me even more, if anything.

I answered, "I just did it twenty times," and she looked all offended, which is exactly what I would have expected.