The stairs at 30 Rock are extremely steep. Today, New York City zoning rules and the International Building Code generally cap stair height at seven inches, but the steps in the Art Deco tower, which opened to the public in 1933, measure in at 7.5. Half an inch doesn’t sound like a lot, but it feels like a lot when you’re taking them two at a time up 66 stories. It doesn’t help that running 30 Rock is like navigating a vertical maze — there are hallway breaks and stairwells that change direction every few floors — that demands a constant recalibration of pace and focus, making it nearly impossible to establish a rhythm.
I started racing skyscraper stairwells a little over a year ago and have since run a dozen buildings ranging from 25 to 105 stories. While this may sound like a possibly unhinged way to spend one’s weekends, tower running, as it’s officially called, is a real sport, with organized races, rankings, commentary, and a global following. And these races do more than test endurance. They reveal the hidden logic of these buildings, particularly the architectural nuances and eccentricities of their often unseen stairwells.
