A Primer for Stairmasters

Until this point, at the publication of this document, only I have known the extend to which I lack regard for stairs.

In part this is due to my physical height. At 6' 1", I have the adequate leg length to, both while ascending and descending a set of stairs, take them two at a time. This, in concert with the alternative discomfort provided by single stair steps (v.) (it is simultaneously a physical malady and a psychological one), seemingly disallows mediocrative ambulation concerning all types of elevation altering technology. This I call the Rule of Two.

It is also why flying in coach has lost it's luster, an affliction that even a window seat is helpless to remedy.

My stairwell behavior varies on the context of those stairs. This is to say that exposed flights (those outside) permit not only the Rule of Two but also an appropriate acceleration, a quickening of pace and a maintained upper limit that tapers only as the landing is reached. This pace is little less than a full-out sprint, which may seem incontextual in the sense that "sprint" is the measurement of speed over commonly flat ground. This troubles me in and of itself, as it implies that stairwell locomotion is to be relegated only to those paces set as acceptable for the whole of mankind. I am light of foot and wholly unconcerned with stairwell safety.

There are times, however, when more appropriate methods are required. When in the company of someone not known too keenly, I must slow and adapt to the pedestrian way, so as not to seem to eager to do anything other than maintain a locked speed. Futhermore, certain buildings and therefore, certain stairwells, operate under differing rules of noise level, that disallows (we are speaking still of ascension) an accelerated pace. These challenges I nonetheless approach with a determined and unapologetic Rule of Two, at a rate of speed that would be common for others to take steps singly.

The proper format for descent matches closely with that of ascension, though it differs by nature of employing the force of gravity as opposed to resisting it. This I say with more than quaint observation. My methods of descent utilize the gravitational constant of acceleration to shocking (and shock-resistant) effect. The Rule of Two, still strong, is modified now by this gravitational acceleration, for to step down two steps at a time with rhythmic consistency would prove uncomfortable as well.

This is due to difference between the distribution of weight on an ascending climb, where the moving leg subtracts from the weight of the stationary leg (by being placed higher vertically, it absorbs this weight in the transfer of motion and pushes upwards against gravitational acceleration), and the distribution of weight on a descent. In a descent, the more vertical leg maintains the weight until it adds that force to the gravitational acceleration. But, the leg in motion does not extend downwards to make up for the vertical distance as it does in an upwards motion, which it can do by virtue of shortening it's overall length with a bend at the knee. Rather, the leg carrying the weight must bend, while the leg in motion stays stiff and receives the weight transfer. The inefficiency goes unnoticed by single steppers, who have only half the distance to travel compared to the Rule of Two. A two stepper would instead feel one great jarring motion after the other, having to stop a greater momentum with each step.

The remedy is to twist the hip ever so slightly so as to allow an almost sideways motion, where the second step careens over the first which has not fully taken the weight of the body. This results in an every-other system of weight distribution, which always falls on the favored leg (right) due to its more frequent use and therefore greater precision. This precision step is critical to avoid stumbles, because it has travelled a full four steps of height as opposed to one, or even two; the anticipation of this vertical distance is paramount to the maneuver. Too short and the weight will careen forward, too long and again, the stepper will fall forwards to catch his footing.

As involved as this descent may sound, it proceeds at a rate equal to or greater than four times the speed of the regular pedestrian, and though it does not share the rhythm of the upwards Rule of Two, it nonetheless has a rhythm of its own. Still, there are areas inappropriate for this method of quickly changing elevations, and I try not to worry myself with the inconvenience of moving like everyone else.

I suppose that to some degrees, I am interested in making up for the lost horizontal distance that elevation change necessitates. Or perhaps I subconsciously perceive stairs as locales of transformation, and prefer the change that they offer. But really, it is quite simply that I have places to go and cannot afford to trifle with locomotive hurtles.

And so I take the big steps, and I make the big changes exactly when and where I deem appropriate.