27 Stories

27 Stories. Not to be confused with 27 Dresses. This post does not feature either cute Katherine Heigel (who I liked in that movie but LOVED in Life As We Know It) or Cyclops (a.k.a. James Marsden).

What this post does feature are stairs. A lot of stairs.

As we begin this saga, you need to know some things:

1. I wanted to post this when it happened, yesterday, but have been experiencing technical difficulties (read: User Error) with Blogger.
2. I work in a Boston high rise on, you guessed it, the 27th floor.
3. I am NOT in the best shape of my life and have not done any consistent exercise for about 3 months.

So yesterday was an early day for me. I took the 6 a.m. train into the city and was sashaying into my office around 7:20 a.m. Ok, maybe I wasn't sashaying. I was a wee bit cranky. I had just unpacked my bag and purse, turned on my computer, and was about to commence with the stress (also known as reading e-mail), when our building's emergency announcement system sounded.

Even if you were born without every necessary auditory organ AND the part of your brain that processes sound, you could hear this announcement. And, of course, because it was unexpected, I involuntarily vaulted from my chair into my recycle bin.

The way our emergency system works is thus: the emergency announcement sounds (and repeats her deafening message 4 times) on all 38 floors of the building. Then, if it is not disabled by Security (if a false alarm/accident) within a certain timeframe, the alarm sounds on the floor of said emergency and the one above and below. Once the alarms sound, our "smart" elevators immediately return to the Lobby where they sit waiting for Fire Department use.

So, there I am sitting at my desk, heart beating as if I'd just completed an Olympic sprint, listening to Ms. Emergency Announcement finish her fourth iteration and yes, of course, the alarm immediately sounds. I couldn't say I was surprised. They're doing pretty major construction in our building and they've inadvertently set it off before. 

Test, accident, false alarm, whatever, I never treat it lightly. Some people (somehow) ignore the piercing beeping and continue working through our full building practice evacuations. I cannot. I can't help but picture the Twin Towers in NYC that perfect September morning. It's one of the ways the world has changed me. I don't think I'll ever be that cavalier (or arrogant?) about my safety again. I quickly pulled on my sweatshirt, grabbed my phone, building pass, bag and purse and headed for the stairs. 

Long story, already longer than planned, short, I ended up descending the stairs with our cafeteria staff. This is the story (TRUE STORY!) of 12ish people picked to descend 27 flights of stairs and find out what happens when people stop being nice and start getting real...The Real World: 27 Stories. (Unfortunately no one wears a big ol' cowboy hat and plays guitar. Thankfully, no one is named Puck. No jacuzzis either.)

Flights 27 through 20: Solo descent of our interior stairs, having to shoulder open the fire door on each level. It was almost like an office version of Wipeout, sans the big red balls and mud pits. And, I'll sheepishly admit, I did try to get into an elevator at some point but they had already all gone through the auto-shut down. I'm intelligent, but sometimes not smart. I mean really, my boyfriend is a fire fighter. You'd think I'd know better.

Floor 19: I meet my companions for the first time and have to show them where the emergency stairwell is. We begin our descent.  

Floor 18: Only 18 more flights? Psht. I got this.

Floor 17: Shoot. How did I get to be the 2nd person in line here? That's a lot of pressure. I better keep up.

Floor 16: I totally got this.

Floor 15: Glad I didn't wear flip flops today.

Floor 14: At least it's not 27 flights UP.

Floor 13: Shoot. I'm 5 steps behind the guy who made my grilled cheese a few weeks ago. He's never going to make me a grilled cheese again if he sees I can't keep up.

Floor 12: I could let them go in front of me...but then I'd be last and then who'll stop me from just laying down halfway through the next flight for a nap?

Floor 11: Why can't I feel my right quadricep?

Floor 10: I totally don't got this.

Floor 9: ...what do you mean, NINE?! We've totally walked down about 47 flights by now.

Floor 8: I actually think my left quad has detached and I'm 100% positive that if I even pause, I'll fall.

Floor 7: How did kitchen guy get so good at descending stairs?! Was he on his college intramural team or something?

Floor 6: Silence. And whimpers.

Floor 5: Ok, don't be ridiculous. You're going to (mostly) run a 5K in 5 months. You've lost 6.2lbs in two weeks. You can finish this.

Floor 4: See? Almost done. (I hope they're handing out Gatorade at the bottom. The red one.)

Floor 3: Sweet Baby Jesus, I see the light! Wait, what did that creepy, little lady from Poltergeist say? Don't go into the light, right? RIGHT? Oh...that wasn't THE light. I'm apparently seeing spots. 

Floor 2: If I start falling now, perhaps I can just somersault out the emergency exit at the bottom...

First Floo....r? WTH?

After the second floor one would think the ground floor would be next. But what was next was another flight of stairs. Now, I know I didn't finish my architectural degree, but I'm pretty sure I understood the whole stairs per flight per floor piece.

I stumbled out the fire door, through our back lobby, and out into the morning. I instinctively knew I had to keep moving as even just slowing down had caused my legs to shake a bit. I turned the corner and walked back up the street towards the front of our building, where Boston's Best were just arriving in their shiny red trucks. I found a 'No Parking' sign to lean against and watched them gear up and head into the building while my legs shuddered...er...sighed with relief. 

About 5-10 minutes later they cleared the building and we were allowed back in. False alarm (thank goodness).

Since relating this story, a couple of people have commented, "It was that hard? You were going DOWN. Gravity is working with you."

Um. Have you seen me? Gravity doing ANYTHING to me at this weight is not positive. Talk to me 113.6lbs from now. Maybe I'll tell you another story.

Also? While it takes more energy to walk up the stairs, it takes more muscle control to walk down them. Want proof? I've had trouble standing up from a sitting position unassisted all day. Also, my calves have put in for a leave of absence and are pursuing other opportunities. And these are not your friendly, everyday stairs. They're steep-ish, steel stairs descending a concrete shaft (with thick metal pipes, you know, for fun).

I wasn't hurting immediately, but as the day wore on I knew today would be tough. I drank more water and popped some Advil. Then, once again, at about 3 p.m. I lurched violently out of my chair...

"Attention please, attention please. There has been a report of an emergency in this building..."

The sound of my forehead hitting my desk echoed down the hallway.