Tripping Over Success on the Stairway to Fitness

For those who think traffic jams only happen on the freeway, just try working out on the Santa Monica steps.

The steep concrete walkway, located at the end of 4th Street at Adelaide looking out toward the majestic Santa Monica Mountains and the Pacific, winds its way down to East Channel Road, which eventually leads to the shore.

Very few people take the steps to get anywhere. Instead, they’ve been used by Westsiders as an E ticket Stairmaster, providing a tough workout while offering the kind of view that people pay millions for.

But the secret is out.

Recent stories in Shape magazine, Los Angeles magazine, Vogue, Newsweek and local TV news shows have portrayed the steps as the hottest, hippest thing to happen to exercise since spandex.

On a recent Sunday at sunset, the wide, grassy expanse that divides 4th Street at its north end looked Fellini-esque, packed with people doing splits, backbends and stretches as they warmed up or cooled down from their workouts.

A gaggle of exercisers had gathered at the wall overlooking the stairs to guzzle Evian water, catch their breath or chat. Below them was a rhythmic stream of people that made the stairs look like an escalator. One step enthusiast was jumping down backward, one step ata time.

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“It’s like rush hour on the weekends,” groused Hanno Schmidt, who lives in Westchester but tries to get to the steps every day for his workout.

“You have to signal when you want to change lanes. When it’s empty, you can go like this,” Schmidt said, kicking his leg in a wide swath behind him. “You can stretch your hams and glutes when you don’t have people behind you.” But alas, the days of carefree ham and glute stretching appear to be over.

“There’s a lot of tension and anger on the steps now,” says shoeless and shirtless David Gregg, an accountant, fitness fanatic and beach habitue who runs, not walks, about 10 sets for his workout--in his bare feet.

“I hate the crowds here,” he complains. Running barefoot (“I’m just not comfortable in tennis shoes”) means he must do his stepping before nightfall and that means peak rush hours.

He’s disgusted that few of the newcomers pay attention to the longstanding etiquette of the stairs. “People here have no spatial cognizance,” he says. “They’re beginners, they talk to each other, gossiping. The stairs is not a place to come to get in shape. . . . You’ve got to already be in shape.”

And the steppers are not the only ones upset as the pastorally elegant neighborhood--home of some of the priciest real estate north of Montana--has taken on the look of a carnival sideshow.

A stroll down once-quiet Adelaide at sunset finds lots of street activity: cars are circling and parking, runners and steppers are sweating, bicyclers are meandering.

Asked how they feel about the steps’ popularity, the owners of a breathtaking California bungalow that sits at the corner above the grassy median decline to comment. “Do you have to print where the steps are?” a family member asks.

There are parking problems, bathroom problems and trash problems. There’s the story of one resident who finally lost her cool as the thousandth trendy exerciser in a new Jaguar pulled up to park. There was a threat. But in keeping with the decorum of the neighborhood, the threat was, of course, genteel. “I’m going to throw yogurt on your car,” the angry homeowner said.

Some of the steppers are sympathetic. “If I lived here, I’d be signing every petition,” said Tracey Hill as she caught her breath after three rounds. “These people are fanatics.” Beautiful fanatics: “Some of them have the most incredible bodies, though. It really gets you going.”

But Hill disagrees with news reports that depict the steps as a hot spot for singles. “There’s some socializing, but not that much,” Hill says. “It’s not a big pickup scene, probably because guys can read the vibes: ‘Hey, leave me alone, I don’t feel good right now.’ ”

Rather, it is the kind of place where strangers stop to chat and ask each other about their cholesterol.

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Almost everyone who has done the steps knows of someone who has done them better. Bill Vanloan of the Valley, who comes to work out on weekends, knows one.

“That’s Brian over there,” he gestures, awe-struck. “He’s gotten up to 51 times. You could put naked girls in front of him and he wouldn’t even see them. He’s so intense. He’s Ironman.”

Suddenly, Brian gets within earshot. “Hey Brian!” he yells, “I’m braggin’ about ya.”

And then there’s Oscar Rios.

“I’m one of the regulars. I’m here from 9 a.m. till 9 p.m.,” declares Rios, who says he just quit his job to make more time for the steps.

“It’s a good workout and it’s free,” he says, no small thing when you’re unemployed. “If you stop, someone is pushing you to go. . . . I’ve come here seven years off and on, every day.” Rios says he is known on the steps for his stamina and special style.

“Most people do 10, 20, 30 rounds. Some do three, four, five, six steps at a time, with weights or without. Backwards is my specialty. I’m known for it. They call me Backwards Man or Dyslexic Man. Or they just call me insane. I jog it backwards, backwards going up and down. My record is 95 consecutive rounds, that’s 17,955 steps.”

Is Oscar upset about the latest article in Newsweek?

“I didn’t see it,” he says as he backs up for another round. “I don’t read the papers or magazines or watch TV anymore. All I do is this.”