Pushing Through..and Finding that "Extra Gear"

As you all know, I broke my clavicle just over 4 weeks ago (to be exact: 4 weeks and 3 days), and I was doing my best to continue training through all of it. At points it did hurt a fair amount - and when it did I listened to my Doc's instructions of "Do not do anything that causes pain". So whatever actually hurt, I had to hold off on. Luckily, this was really only walking fast, running, and things that required range of motion (ie: reaching bike handlebars was way out of the question). Basically my biggest issue was sleeping and keeping comfortable throughout the day; putting on clothes and showering were more like a challenging game than a problem...and keeping a lot of tasks as independent as possible probably was my own form of early recovery PT. I quickly learned how far I could reach and what rate it was progressing at and also what I could carry in that arm and what I would be able to hold without pain in a week's time.

The one thing I did not let up on, was keeping myself active...even if it meant I could only withstand 25-30 minutes of high discomfort while on the trainer. Sometimes it isn't what you do, it's why you're doing it. I kept going because that's just a part of me and I've never let anything get in the way of what I enjoy on the most fundamental of levels. That is not to say nothing is more important (clearly, that is a different story), but usually a half hour is viable regardless of situation.

So I kept it up. And I progressed pretty damn quickly compared to what I expected - and what I had heard from a lot of other people. I was on the exercise bike the day after I crashed (and couldn't walk faster than 25:00min/mi without pain), I awkwardly jogged 0.5 miles for the first time 15 days after the crash, did my first bike workout on day 16, and ran just 23 days after the break. Today I did a brick and it was my third run of the week...my arm swing is even coming back!

What surprised even me (I usually have pretty lofty goals of recovering from injury and returning to good form) was a workout yesterday. A few of us at Maine Running had a Time Trial race on the CompuTrainers, it was a 19.7mi moderately hilly course with a noticeable net elevation gain overall. I knew I was going up against Ryan and Adam, but figured out once I got there that Doug Welling would be participating...so instantly I thought I was going to be absolutely destroyed in this race. It was all out of good fun, so I welcomed the challenge and I will be the last one to ever not want someone to push me to a new level. I had a pretty solid cold and little use of holding onto the handlebars, so it was going to be difficult no matter how I cut it (unless I dogged it, but that option is deemed erroneous before even being contemplated). I figured I should at least go out with hitting my date FTP, and then go from there. (For those of you who don't use power...FTP is functional threshold power: a wattage that was estimated from a workout a couple months back, and is the expected power output I can sustain for an all out 45-60 minute effort). I had never done a 1 hour TT and was both excited for it as a whole and a bit nervous for how the last 15 minutes would feel.

We took off riding pretty solidly, and about 15 minutes in my Avg Power was in the low-mid 290's...elevating a bit on climbs, dropping a bit on descents. I had developed a good lead, but Doug had been holding in the mid-280W range (despite having done a murderous bike workout the day before) and I knew he wasn't going anywhere. I hit the last good descent to the lowest elevation and was averaging 23.6MPH, but knew that a lot of climbing was ahead. I tried to hold above 23.0MPH. That quickly was out the window. Then, like I should have been doing all along,  I turned my complete focus to my power - even effort yields the best result. Sadly, as I suspected, it started to burn pretty bad with 15 minutes remaining. With about 3.5 miles (mostly climbing) to go, Doug tells me to go for 300W...this means I would have to average somewhere over 320W, something that was unmanageable for much time no-handed. So I sucked it up and held the bars, with surprisingly no pain and some moderate (but bearable) discomfort. I kept pushing with all I could, and the 295W jumped to 296W...and was miserably slowly working it's way up. With just over a mile left it was at 299W, so I started giving it my last surge. It hit 300W with about .3 miles to go, and with .2 left I started pushing all out and sprinted with .1 left. Only issue...in my effort I think I became slightly delirious and though the finish was at 19.3 miles. I literally had just blown all of my reserve and had just went far beyond my red line...and I had .4 miles to go. I forgot about everything else and just gave every last bit I had to keep that power over 300W. It dipped into the 280's and 260's a couple times, and I got to the point where I actually was putting out less power when I tried to stand up. I was about to pop. Finally I crossed the line (and thank goodness we were on trainers or I may legitimately have fallen over before I stopped) and stopped pedaling. My legs were shaking more than I could ever recall.

I ended up averaging 301W for almost 55 minutes, well above my expected value of 291W. I was very surprised to see this after a lackluster few weeks of training. One thing stands, I would have been nowhere near this level had I just taken time off...looks like I saved myself a month or two by training through for a few weeks.

That TT was pure joy. I had never before given my all for a final effort, then somehow dug deeper and continued pushing. For the first time in all my athletic experiences, I have proof that there is always just a little more to give...I guess the thing is you have to bypass logic (or trick yourself) to find that it's there.

The picture below is the results for the race: I'm rider #2 AKA Dexter.

Collarbone: On the Mend (And On the Run!)

All has been going well, aside from a couple rough nights of sleep. After meeting with my Orthopedic Surgeon a couple weeks back we finally decided on what approach, healing or surgery, would be best. This conclusion came about for a variety of reasons, which I will summarize as best as I can:

*Very Important Note: This is my individual experience and is simply to give a little insight to my injury. Every single case is different, so this is my experience and really only applies to individuals who have a 50/50 shot at no surgery vs. surgery. Many cases are either definite surgery (shatter) or definite natural heal (fracture but little or no displacement). Mine was a fracture with enough displacement to make surgery a possibility, but not enough to require it. If you ever think something different from your surgeon TALK IT OUT, they are professionals for a reason. If it still doesn't seem right/smart to you then get a second opinion, being too sure cannot hurt especially when it is your body.

On to my experience:

I really wanted surgery. Four and 5 nights after the break I was miserable. I don't like medication or painkillers (tylenol/advil I'm okay with but I will take as little as absolutely possible). I couldn't sleep, was uncomfortable to a pretty maximal level (I have a pretty good tolerance with discomfort), and generally not loving this whole process. The 6th night I took Tylenol PM and I have never taken a sleep aid in my entire life, so I passed out for 12 hours and when I woke up I felt amazing, but my shoulder was another story - the Tylenol PM made me sleep through shifts and I didn't wake up when it hurt...so it hurt for three hours after I woke up. From there on out things got a lot better.

Natural Heal:
Pros:

• No surgery, anesthesia, or hardware (this is pretty huge, noting the inherent risks of going under and having hardware interfacing)
• Ability to resume activity is based almost solely on if it feels comfortable (aside from arm impact things like skiing and pumping the iron)
• Being able to say my body doesn't need metal to be complete

Cons:

• There is a small (10% or less) chance of non-union, which would require surgery at 6-8 weeks through healing...and then 6-8 weeks additional recovery from that
• You don't know when you'll be able to resume activities
• Some additional discomfort in very early healing stages (note: breaking bones is not supposed to be comfortable...you destroyed a naturally functioning part of your body, so don't expect it to feel 'only a little bit bad')
• Not being able to call yourself a "bionic man" (or woman)

Surgery:

Pros:

• Knowing an exact timeline and specifics of when activities are permitted
• Guaranteed recovery by a (very well) estimated date
• More comfort in early recovery

Cons:

• Surgery (cutting stuff open - infection; anesthesia - inherent risks; and foreign, albeit bio-compatible, objects in your body)
• Metal + bone usually leads to some magnitude of a thing called stress shielding, and removing the hardware can lead to problems - a portion of what I have come across has been leaving the metal in typically works out fine and taking it out can be problematic
• Even if it feels 'good' or 'comfortable' your surgeon dictates what you do, and you have no say to push things sooner

So, both have a very good side and another side that isn't that bad. What did I decide to go with? I was initially pretty convinced I wanted surgery, but I talked it out pretty seriously with my surgeon - I spoke with him a couple days after my first appointment on that Friday, and then again at the next appointment on Tuesday, which was to check in to see how the first (miserable) weekend was. At the appointment 1 week out from the break we decided to continue this approach, switch to the figure of 8 brace to place my shoulders in a better healing position and then take x-rays a week from that day (2 weeks out from the fracture). At the 2 week appointment, the bone appeared to be in the same or, if not, better position. And it seems as though the bone has started to regrow. I had been able to sleep better and got better acclimated to the figure of 8 brace.

How are things at week 3? They are going well and, as expected, I have bouts of moderate discomfort, but that is usually from being out and standing up/moving around for hours or getting a real good workout in (read: self-induced discomfort!). Aside from that, I'm doing more than I probably should...but if I hit a decent level of discomfort or any real pain, I back it off immediately. If this continues I call it off and rest my shoulder. I have been steadily cycling on the trainer (no hands thus far) and had been strictly walking until a little under a week ago. I ran Wednesday (1mile WU, 3x0.5mile, with 0.5mile walk for rest). I have run nearly every other day since then. Luckily I have a pretty smooth stride, otherwise the bouncing would be pretty painful. At jogging paces (10:00/mi) it was too bouncy to be worth running, at 8:00-9:00/mi it was better, but not optimally smooth. I was reminded extremely quickly that running faster = smoother, and played around with pace enough that 6:45/mi feels pretty much optimal as much faster and (with my complete lack of running training) it would require a legitimate arm swing.

I'm definitely looking forward to being close to cycling outside, which is probably 1 week. The real big thing is that I am running 23 miles on my 23rd birthday (January 26th). Without having done an actual run yet, I am 7 weeks out from the run and haven't run more than 10 miles in a week since the first week or August. I haven't run more than 5 miles in back to back weeks since my front wheel broke and I wasn't able to bike.......in June. I have written my training plan to get to the 23 miles, which sets my first actual run for Saturday: 4 miles. The next Saturday is 10 miles, and it just builds from there.

Thus far I'm glad I am going with the natural heal, and will continue to be quite happy as long as everything is clear in 3-5 weeks (which will be a total of 6-8 weeks from the break, the normal expected "full heal" time frame). As always, if you get any injury (especially traumatic injuries) go see a specialist and listen to him or her...you will not regret it.

My First Crash: 31.8MPH+Asphalt+Travis = ....

For those of you who know me personally, you probably already know that I broke my clavicle on Tuesday. I figured I would give a quick update before I meet with my orthopedic surgeon tomorrow. It appears as though it is going to be an optional surgery or non-surgery situation, but I will definitely listen to the advice of my surgeon and family friend (who happens to be an excellent surgeon and even better person) very closely.

Rewind to midday Tuesday. It was gorgeous out. Best weather imaginable: low-60's, light wind, cloudy. I opted to wear arm warmers and knee warmers for my easy-ish 30min warm-up to make sure my body was properly heated up for a killer 8x30sec all out accelerations from an approximate lead out speed of 26mph. I use a little hill (50m, 3-4% grade) so I can accelerate easily - as if I were drafting my 6 foot teammate :). Then, about 10m into the flat, I hammer. All out for just over a quarter mile, or 30 seconds, 'til my heart feels like it's going to pop. Did the warm up and shed my arm and knee warmers at my house. Spun lightly to the short, slight hill, pulled a 180 and was in my lead-in to interval #1. For a workout like this with 8 reps, they are misery for intervals #1 & #2 because the effort is insanely high and foreign. You feel like you're killing it for 3, 4, and the start of #5, because you hit the groove and haven't built up too much lactic acid. Then it is back to misery, but it hurts because of lactic acid...and you dig deeper each interval. It starts at midway through #5, then you're not recovered for #6 so it hurts within about 10 seconds. #7 you're lucky if the acceleration has any snap whatsoever. #8 feels like you got no rest after 7. Numbers 7 and 8 are what a lot of people say is what "separates the men from the boys". But this doesn't do it justice, because everyone is doing it. Getting yourself to the point where the legs feel like they're bleeding and your lungs burn is only the set-up, every one hits this. The key is denying it, being insulted by the pain, and digging deeper than you did the last time you did this workout. This is that beautiful place where races are won. Not by wheel-lengths, or meters. By centimeters, on a good day. To quote a classic movie (Fast and Furious, the Original) "It doesn't matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning's winning."

So, this is pretty much how excited I was for this workout, my last effort before a race Saturday where I planned to capture one sprint at a minimum. I was going through the workout just as described above. First two sucked. Then I settled in, #3 wasn't as fast as I hoped but still felt good. #4 came along and my heart rate was not fully recovered in the 3 minute window (started #4's lead-in at an HR of 132...for me, I consider rested mid-120's). I was working on properly gearing into the sprint and shifting as necessary (as, if you've been keeping up on my posts, this has caused me to spin out or not be able to accelerated properly in recent sprints). I started the sprint in my 53-15 (4th biggest gear), immediately went into the 53-14, a couple seconds later into the 53-13. This brings me up to just over 30mph on a flat in the headwind I was set-up with (that conveniently simulates the first sprint of Saturdays race!) at a cadence of right about 100rpm. Then comes the best part...that very moment you're spinning fast and smooth and put it into the very last gear you have. Where there is no concern but cranking every last watt, utilizing every ounce of muscle in your legs, core, and arms...something that is unique to cycling from almost any other sport in this exact moment - the no-cylinders-left-behind dead sprint. This, when fresh, can get me to 36mph in such a situation...but in a training cycle with a few intervals in me, I'll hit 34mph or so with that pleasant headwind.

I click the last gear. It hesitates (which has happened before...and with a recently replaced rear shifter and shifter cable is not a rarity), but it usually engages after 1 second. This time it didn't. Just before I would have shifted down then up again, it completely skips. This rockets my cadence up somewhere around 150rpm (my SRM showed 144rpm at this very moment), which is well above my capabilities...I think I can max it out at 135rpm, which is obnoxiously bouncy and dangerous at best. As my legs accelerate beyond their capacity, my chain catches in the 53-12. The sheer force from 150rpm and my biggest gear torques myself and my bike far more intensely than any theme park ride, ski crash, or personal experience I have ever had. I'm guessing it was something like the jerk of a pedal to the floor acceleration of a Ferrari. (Note: I'm not kidding). What happened next was the quickest turn of events of my life: the whole this happened crazy fast but when thinking back seem like freeze-frames. I was looking directly at the ground and within milliseconds I was pummeled into the ground at precisely 31.8MPH. Direct to my head and left shoulder. Going completely rag-doll, my hip lashes into the pavement and I slide on the pavement for a few seconds while my bike catapults off the side of the road; losing the bottles and my cell phone/ID/cash bag departing my back pocket as quickly as my Oakley Raders jumped off my face.

Here's the frame-by-frame low down: The torque lifted my rear wheel off the ground and I started rotating around my front wheel. This was far more torque than I could possibly put out in any normal circumstances (too bad my power meter wasn't working properly...). Think about full on revving your engine in neutral and jumping it into 5th gear. Your car would literally lift off. This is precisely what me and my wonderful Madone 5.2 did. So I'm riding on my front wheel, knowing nothing good can come of this, and then the bike drops to the left, the front wheel slips out, and bam! my head and shoulder crash into the asphalt. There wasn't really any pain. I knew it was going to hurt within seconds once the thrill/fright halted and I had my wits back about me. My whole body hit the ground. Yard saleeee! And I slid, relatively quickly, to a stop.

(The last thing my SRM saw: 31.8MPH, HR = 178bpm, then the low-balling cadence and power thanks to a toast SRM battery: 144rpm, 728W)

Considering this was my first cycling crash I was surprisingly, IMHO, very well collected. Being used to pretty solid spills while freestyle skiing, I had been shaken up before...but nothing at all like this crash. My first instinct has always been: "Inventory". This is that critical moment, immediately after such an event when you assess 1) your head/brain 2) your body 3) your situation. Yes, situation comes third...because if you have no brain or body, there's no concern if a car is coming. Fortunately, I was just a bit to the right of the white line and was, only moments before, travelling at approximately the 35MPH speed limit - so if I car was coming behind me it wouldn't be flying at 20MPH more than me...I hope. Back to the inventory: 1A) I was sprinting, my gear slipped, then I went down hard. I could recall being on just my front wheel and being flipped over and seeing behind me as I slid on the pavement. Brain, check!, no serious initial head injury. 1B) I 'feel' okay. I know exactly where I am (RT88, 0.5mi south of home, ocean-side of the road). I can see completely straight. Brain test 2, check!, likely no concussion at all. (Aside: if you're asking "did he seriously do this" the answer is a resounding yes) Next up...body: Left side is burning/numb, head is throbbing a bit. Body: intact, but quite shaken up...well beyond any previous experience...but nothing that freaks me out. Thirdly, situation: I'm definitely not in the middle of the road, I'm just to the safe side of the white line ("phew!"), and people are already getting out of their cars. At this point I know I'm safe, and I'm going to be totally fine. I remain laying down while two individuals (a kind fellow name Tom Patterson and a woman, named Liz, who was clearly more freaked out and reasonably more concerned than me). I collected my breath, wits, and relaxed a bit. At this point I was nearly certain my head was fine I told the two people I knew everything that happened and everything that was going on at the moment...and informed them I was likely going to miss my race on Saturday. Tom asked if he should call an ambulance, but I told him to wait as I felt fairly good considering and wanted a couple minutes to assess the situation before I made such a decision. At this point I didn't think I had really hurt myself. Head was good. Body was still resetting and felt like some bruising and solid road-rash (Yes! Badass points!). I removed my helmet (glasses had decided to remove themselves already) and then looked at it and said, fully audibly "Thank You".

Next, I stood up. Retrospectively this was a bad idea because had I actually (despite such certainty) knocked my brain around, I could have instantly collapsed, further injuring my body and head. As I stood I was very light-headed, but I managed to stumble and stay upright. At this point my sense of 'feel' was coming back and I felt something weird in my shoulder: it was definitely no pain (yet), but was an awkward tingly sensation that (looking back at it) reminded me of when I had a super small break to my wrist. I slowly reached with my right hand towards the most reasonable spot for any non-blacked out cyclist would: the good ol' clavicle. I touched it, felt a rather rigid bump under the skin, and came to the quick conclusion that I had some level of a fractured clavicle. This meant I was not going anywhere fast. I decided it was wise to return to my location on the cool, leafy pavement. In combination with being shaken up, the realization I broke a bone put me over the edge and my return to the pavement was choppy at very best. Controlled fall is a better description. Tom and Liz insisted that I not use a phone...thus, I had Tom call my Dad, tell him that I had crashed my bike and was fine, and was 0.5 miles south of the house on route 88. Because I knew the next stop was the hospital (and Tom only got my Dad's voicemail) I figured it was most intelligent to call an ambulance as no professional had cleared me of major head or back injuries...although I am clearly a reliable reference. So I grabbed a few sips of water while I waited, asked what sort of condition my baby (aka bike) was in, and the lady who lived across the street, Lisa Nolan, offered me a towel to keep me warm. Initially I said I was all set, but that's before the 60F pavement had settled in. I later took her up on this offer as we waited for the meat wagon to arrive. Tom said I busted a front spoke and thus it was totally out of true, but the frame looked okay (aka no major cracks). I have since looked over it and it appears okay, yay!

(Weaksauce road rash. Teaser pic...X-Rays are wayyy cooler)

As we "hung out" some cars whizzed by...literally everyone was saying 'what could people be in such a rush for that they don't slow down when cars are parked on the road and people are huddled around a person laying on the road'. Even though I was on the shoulder, I audibly agreed. Regarding the drivers, "what fools" I thought to myself "what if your son or daughter was laying here?" Tom called the Falmouth rescue, which is fair...because there is a station 1.25 miles from the 'crash site'. But they had to refer to Cumberland rescue, as we were in Cumberland, but that station is a good 5 miles away down Tuttle Rd. I knew it was going to be a while, which was fine because nothing was critical. But I was getting antsy...and, worse, pain was starting to set in and I wanted to get the hell off the ground. I talked to my Dad on my phone, which I located when the others were looking around for it (haha). Told him all was well and I busted my collar bone, but it was fine (fine to me equals no compound fracture or unbearable pain, thus no compound fracture. I don't know how a compound feels...but I don't want to. My guess is more like shock than pain lol). Made sure to let him know my head was perfectly fine: which was proven to the few onlookers when I eventually rattled off address, DOB, SSN, my exact location, how exactly the crash occurred (which I don't think a single person actually understood), no car was involved, and, yes, I crashed completely unaided by terrain/potholes or other vehicles...the only thing that actually sucked to admit. One other thing I told my Dad was the classic "Sorry for scaring you!" I also talked to Jason briefly. He asked if he should come back from business in NH, I laughed and told him "Dude, I appreciate the gesture, but seriously I am fine".

The first (preliminary) paramedic was a guy named George, who assured me that the 'big guys' were going to arrive momentarily, but he was nearby when the call came in. I figured it would be another 2 minutes or so. George basically ensured I was mentally aware and got the details of what happened first hand. The one thing I had difficulty remembering is who arrived first...my Dad or the ambulance...because it was a flurry of questions and concerns at that point haha. My Dad gave me the "Awwww shit, really?!" look when he first saw me. I'm sure he could tell I was in good spirits on the phone, whether he thought it was true or to comfort him is up in the air...but he usually has a good read on me so I'm guessing he was pretty sure I was okay. But I know he would be concerned even if I called him safely from home excitedly saying "Yo bud, I got some road rash today!". What can I say, he's a great guy :). I am pretty sure he beat the ambulance...and set a WR (yes, a world record) for fastest time from Allen Ave to the Foreside...absolutely destroying my brother's former WR/PR of XX minutes (Jason's secret remains safe). You might not think beating his time is impressive...but he had a girlfriend who lived over there and they were together for like a decade, which included highschool and collegiate shenanagans. My brother's time is 'erroneous on all accounts' as my Dad's was surely in the single digits, thanks to that Saab 9.5 Aero's killer engine! As my Dad's car pulled in behind where I was laying, on of the kind ladies said "Oh my god this person is coming in fast". I laughed and said "what kind of car?". She said, "it's black". I asked "does the license plate start with 113?". She said "Yes", confirming it was, in fact, my father. I told her it was my Dad and he can come in as fast as he wants as long as he doesn't hurt anyone. Knowing my Dad's licence plate further proved to me, and everyone else, I was fine. I was relieved to see my Dad more for his own good than my own, as I knew everything was okay...but he needed to see it to know I was okay. Lesson about my Dad: He's badass and awesome and will be by one of his children's sides in record time....even if he is told very firmly by me "TAKE YOUR TIME. I AM FINE. I WON'T LEAVE BEFORE YOU GET HERE!"

So there's Part 1 of my exciting sprint workout gone awry! Part 2 is going to discuss all the fun stuff of hanging out with the paramedics, the first two days of recovery, how freakin' lame pain meds are, and my consult with my orthopedic surgeon. Oh yeah, and a meeting regarding a potential job!

The Life of a 'Professional Athlete' (ha)

Recently, while waiting to get my first 'real' (read: Engineering) job sorted out, I have been barely working at Maine Running Company (thanks to fall hours) and thus am only left to train with the bulk of my time. Now, I'm not actually living the life of a pro: clearly, a LOT is missing for that. But, if I were to be about twice as good and deemed worthy by some foolish person/team to invest in me, then it would be complete. As you've probably seen, I have an awesome (!!!) coach and I have been amping up my training to a level and structure I really have never been close to before. Now, I might not be hitting 20+ hours of training which I have done in the past - this week is going to be around 18 - but the quality of training is much much higher.

I'm really enjoying the whole training being my major focus and just soaking it up at the moment, because this is likely the only time in my life I will be able to engross myself in such a manner. I'm not one to take anything for granted, so instead of just doing some training and bumming out about not starting my job yet I'm crushing as much as I possibly can and letting my coach decide when 'enough is enough' AKA overtraining. I have a good feeling I won't be hitting this point unless I go rogue on my schedule. In cycling, I have proved to myself that I have a rather high tolerance for stress and work (as opposed to running, where I haven't ever held 50 miles for more than a couple weeks). So, I talked to Doug (coach) and said I'd like to crank it up as much as I can while still being beneficial.

I don't have any actual USAC "races" until April 2012, but there is a group ride that is a full-on no holes barred race. It is the PVC Saturday Morning Ride (SMR) double loop: twice the normal SMR, prizes/money for sprint wins (8-10 total), and most aggressive rider. Some BIG GUNS show up, including people I apparently have never seen before - Cat 1's and the like. People who I've never had the opportunity to race against. Yes, that is right, I'm absolutely pumped to be in a race with guys who have been at this for decades and have sweated and bled to get up the ranks. I am well aware it's going to be hard as hell, and I'm going to see people with sprints I wish I had...but I'm going to go for it.

It's completely true that "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take". And I have no intention of sitting back and watching 'the real athletes' go for it, because I don't know what sitting back and watching entails. Sure, I've had some wins in sprints on the SMR, but that's in a group ride where people hit it hard...but not a race against 1's, 2's, and 3's. And that was then and has no effect on how I perform in a race. I learned a lot every time I executed properly and even more each time I make a poor decision. I've only actually raced against 4's and 5's, where people might be strong but very few know how to finish. These guys have had hundred of finishes against an entire field that is both very strong and very smart. I have every intention of contesting and winning on the double loop.

What this means is I have a whole lot of work to put in the next few weeks: I have to actually develop a powerful and efficient sprint technique, scout race tactics, get my confidence to a new level, and crush sprint workouts. Maybe I'll even lose a few more pounds so whoever is on my wheel has to work just a little bit harder :).

Off to do a tune-up for the SMR tomorrow. Looks like I will be going for all four sprints...that's gonna burn. When you race, you sure as hell don't sprint when you're fresh. Pretty excited to see how the very last sprint feels, something like Mt. Vesuvius circa 79AD. Bring the fire.

Time to get to work. Tune-up workout for tomorrow's ride!

Go fast, take chances. If you don't you'll be asking yourself why you didn't.

Cycling: A Smattering of Specialists, all with a shot to take the cake

When anyone finds something he or she loves, it is very unusual to not hear "I wish I had found [insert subject] sonner!". I am definitely one such person. With cycling, it has never fully hit me that I really wished I could have found it earlier in, say, high school. I have just really enjoyed that I actually started cycling and have had so much enjoyment out of it that the topic had no yet crossed my mind. But the other day, as I stood and watched NYA (my high school) compete in the Western Maine Conference cross country meet, I realized how lackluster my running career had been. I suppose the critical thing is that I really, truly enjoyed myself as long as I was healthy enough to run and compete. While talking to a former coach in track, he asked about my recent interest and competition in cycling. At one point he looked at my legs and said "yeah, you definitely look a lot more suited for it". This immediately brought me back to my first long run in college, when Coach Izzo looked at my legs and asked "You're a cyclist, aren't you?". Nope. "Well you sure look like it." Maybe I should have taken the hint right there. Well...here I am, four years later! Don't get me wrong, I don't regret any bit of my runner career (and will never stop enjoying/loving running itself) but I am just glad I am where I am now.

There are so many elements to cycling, so much is undefined until the finish. A cycling race has much more to it than a running race. You could be the best person out there and cleanly win one day, but barely make the top ten if the exact same race was repeated. I am not, in any way shape or form, knocking running. Part of the beauty of running is its inherent simplicity. Strategy, planning, and pacing definitely shape the outcome of a running race, but most of it relies on one's physical standing and the mental capacity to perform to your physical maximum. Some would say that this is more fair of a setting, and I love the unique cut-and-dry aspect of running. In cycling there is a massive piece that is physical and emotional like running, but there is so much that requires instantaneous calculation of the best way to react to an event. One second too late, and the race could be lost. If you hesitate in running, you can recover (or maybe have to find a way to make up a second or two). If you hesitate in cycling, the break goes and you're toast...or you blow too much energy and your legs become a time bomb, getting ever closer to exploding.

Another thing that is amazing about cycling is that you have a variety of specialists in a single race, regardless of distance. In running, the biggest crossover is that 10K guy who is jumping into a half marathon. Some people might be closers and finish strong, but that has very small bearing (how many times have you seen somebody close a 10 second gap at the last mile of a marathon to take the win?). Even the aforementioned scenario is more likely to be due to one runner bonking/cramping and the other holding strong - not specifically having a huge kick. When you have a cycling race, you have sprinters, flyers, guys with high FTP (the time trial - TT - types), and climbers. That's a lot of various skillsets in the same peloton; and depending on the day, the course, wind, teammates, and race development anyone of those types can take it. This may seem frustrating because it indicates that the 'strongest' guy (or girl) doesn't always win. I've been in races where I was likely the strongest (Concord Crit 2011) and didn't win - I took 5th. To explain the 'strongest' assumption, I managed 1st at a higher caliber race (Witches Cup 2011) 5 days later against many of the same athletes and many more. There have been races where I don't think I was strongest (or smartest) and pulled out a win - Norwell Circuit Race 2010 - on my very first cycling race ever.

This intrigues me greatly and really leaves only one option for every man on the road: race smart and race like you're going to win. If you don't you won't win, it's that simple. Nothing guarantees winning, but if anything at all gets you on your way to the podium it's racing smart and confidently. Recently, I had a lapse of being smart and confident on a group ride sprint. This ride has 4 major sprints, all of which are pretty highly contested week after week. There is only one I have not taken, and I ended up in an excellent position to go for it thanks to my teammate, Jamie Wright. When I took off from Jamie's wheel I was about 200m from the hydrant that marks the finish and was in lead. With 75m to go I could tell someone was on my wheel because he went to overtake me. I gave a surge when he was past my rear wheel, but he kept coming. At this point I had my lapse of confidence: I thought "Oh shit, I just laid it down and he's still moving up on me." Then, as my cadence started to peak and go past 105rpm, I didn't think to shift so I could bite off a bigger gear and slam out the last 25m or so. At this point we were nearly level, and when I gave it my last push I essentially 'spun out' (meaning that I couldn't increase my cadence any more) rather than giving a final surge. I lost the sprint by about 10cm (4 inches). The guy who beat me is quite well known, mainly for his career as an NHL Defenseman for 17 years, but is an absolute crusher on the bike. This would be Eric Weinrich. Now, some people would say "He's of a different breed. For chrissakes he played in the NHL!" My take is: "So what if he came off of my wheel? Or that he is Category 2 and has been known to never stand - even on Dutton Hill or Depot Rd?" The first viewpoint is quite fair, but mine is that I faulted twice (however minimal) in the last 5-7 seconds of the sprint and thus lost it. I have no intent of letting myself back down again, regardless of the competition.

That's why cycling is so great. I had a great leadout and a solid jump on the sprint, but got overtaken with less than 10 meters to go. I'd say that is down to the wire. And this is just one sprint point on a group ride.

My (New) Favorite Training Partner

We all have our preferences with whom we most desire to train. You go through phases of competitiveness, camaraderie, and solitude. Some people out there are luckily enough to be paired with individuals who are similar in skill, training phase, and goals...they are most often called "Professionals". For the rest of us, we find balance. We all go through phases of training where growth seems slow, you can't meet up with others, or it mentally gets difficult; in all these cases it is important to stay on course and keep the consistency. Since I began training, there has been only one scenario in which I have had constant training partners: track/XC teams. That is the beauty of scholastic athletics (HS or collegiate); over four years these 'guys' you may never have met share thousands of training hours, injuries, failure, success, and just about every non-academic (and many academic) minute together. You are destined to being a family before you know anyone's name. I loved this aspect of being on teams for over 10 years. There is nothing that can match the support and friendship of people who have seen you completely destroyed, physically and emotionally, after that one workout every year that tells you exactly how much better you are than last year.

Fast forward to almost two years after my departure from my track team a UR in 2010 and how do I feel? I miss the team, if you couldn't have guessed from the above description. It's impossible not to. But I would be lying if I said I am worse off training on my own. I have learned a lot more about myself, my limits, exercise physiology, nutrition, and training planning. I have become a lot smarter of an athlete, both in training and competition. I had a huge training streak over 250 days because I was smart and remained uninjured while improving steadily. I still will always miss 'the guys' though.

Back to today's training. My training partner is no longer a team, or a few people I meet weekly, but a little thing called an SRM. Don't ask me what it stands for, I can't come close to pronouncing it haha. It's German and badass, like most things German. Over the last year of cycling I have heard the more-than-just-buzz word "Power" thrown about alongside the buzz words of "FTP", "Weight Ratio", and various other technical things that confuse many people. This is of massive interest to me: I'm an engineer, I love data, and the more numbers the better! So I started looking around for Power Meters, my top choice was shaping up to be a Quarq, with SRM being a close second....then basically nothing else. Quarq's are new and probably are still having minor kinks worked out and there are few used so the price tag is well above $1000. SRM has been around for a long time, they have different models, and many are used and resold - as reliable as the day they were bought. As a friend, Drew Scoles (MD PhD in Biomedical Engineering), told me "German engineering usually doesn't have an expiration date". He was right, I'm not sure how old this SRM I picked up is, but at a bare minimum it is 7 years old from the former data files on it. I'm guessing it is older because I sent in the serial number with an inquiry to SRM, and they said the number did not seem to be from an SRM but actually a head unit! Anyway, I purchased the SRM on slowtwitch.com, it is a wired model with the SRM crank arms and a PCV.

It has definitely entertained the engineer in me. But even more so, it will become a critical aspect of my training giving feedback to my coach and myself, allow for determination of progress, and give information that will essentially dictate my training. For example I did a cycling field test today, to measure my power output 2 times over a 3 mile course, with 10min rest. This allowed me to compare the effects on slight injuries and a bunch of time off from serious or structured training. These effects were fairly negative, but that was expected. My power average dropped by 8% and (due to weight changes) my power to weight ratio dropped by nearly 10%. I refuse to publish the numbers due to their inherent weakness, and there can be big differences between measuring methods and devices. The test will provide a baseline for my training over the next month or two, and will be something that I can easily retest and monitor fitness changes. I will say that the second 3.03 mile effort took 7:30 @ 24.2MPH, and that is a course with a net gain of 125ft and it was pouring and windy today!

What do you look for in a training partner? Obviously someone you can spend many hours with, who pushes you to a new level, who supports you, gives you targets, and, among many other things, makes your training flat-out better. My SRM is now my training partner. In collaboration with my coach, it makes my training much more meaningful, pushes me, keeps me honest, gives perspective, and (probably) most importantly ensures that I go hard when it's time to go hard and go easy when it's time to rest. It doesn't provide much conversation, or verbal motivation (if you saw my field test today, you would know it motivates quite well), but it never missed a ride.

For the couple weeks I've been using the SRM, I have never trained easier nor harder - all of that leading to 'better' in every respect. With the dictated plan of a coach and his feedback, the SRM will take my training and thus my fitness to a new level. Once someone throws a Quarq (or PowerTap) my way, I'll do a review that includes those devices, too. But for now, the SRM is an excellent and surprisingly reliable device that gives continually accurate data. It comes with an excellent program for analysis that allows you to look at every single data point that is recorded (if necessary). I have not a single complaint. Calibration is simple (and fun!), cleaning is easy (avoid pressure water/washing - I will NOT be testing this out), and the UI of the PCV is very good. I have but one complaint as yet, I wish it had a backlight: but that just means I get to find a cool way to attach an LED to my stem/head tube so I can read the display at any hour of training...because training and feedback never stop. There's so much more to say about how the SRM aids my training, recovery, and analysis...but the fact is: It Does It All. I am so glad I got the SRM and don't ever see myself seriously training without power.

Upcoming: My first run in over a month on 10/16 (uh oh), back to the SMR (Sat Morning Ride) 10/15!

Next entry: TBD

Smart Training >> anyotherkindoftraining

I restarted training at the very end of September after hitting a lifetime high weight (ouch). The one thing I am legitimately proud of is that I took the most time off since I really started seriously training on any level back in senior year of high school, summer/fall of 2006. Yes, that is five years. During that time period, my longest voluntary hiatus from training was about 5 days. On a couple occasions I had injuries that rendered me unable to workout in any meaningful fashion that typically forced 2 weeks off. Since I began collegiate XC I became accustomed to and comfortable with: very few rest days, minimal rest post-season, and working though injuries. I am sure you are not surprised that from fall of 2007 to fall of 2009 I was constantly either injured or recovering from lost fitness due to injury. This is why my collegiate running career only presented me with PR's in the 8K, in which I had never competed in before college, and the 4 mile, which I competed in once before college.


I quit track in the winter of 2010, took a full week off, and began my quest for an injury-free and high-performance triathlon/running season. I worked up from 10 mile exercise bike rides, 0.5 mile swims, and 2 mile runs in February 2010 to 60+ mile hilly rides, 3+ mile swims, and 10+ mile runs in August 2010. All without any semblance of injury or pain. All with personal best performances, and many high places at events in triathlon, cycling, and running. During this period I placed 9th (tri), 2nd (du), 9th (5K), 1st (cycling), and 3rd (tri). Setting PR's in 5K and 10K, and nearly PRing in a 3mile at the end of a duathlon. This recalling of that summer's success is not to revel in the long-past 'glory' of it, but to state that I had great success for but one reason: I listened to my body and only did what felt beneficial. In a mere 8 months, I went from injury-prone and nearly cut from the track and field team to my greatest overall fitness ever. (Actually the only reason I was not cut from the team was because I tried out for the 500m rather than the 800m. Had I gone for the 800m, I would have been about 3 seconds away from the cut...given my best possible performance). I finally learned that the most critical part to fitness and success was training smart, something that I plan to neither lose sight of nor forget.


"Training smart" conveniently leads me to my current training status. Following much debate, and even after accounting for the concern of my extremely low income at the moment, I hired a cycling coach. The coach I hired is someone I've been considering for quite some time, whether it be triathlon or cycling. Doug Welling, of The Sustainable Athlete, is both extremely smart and personable. Many coaches are brilliant with their knowledge of the sport and/or great athletes at their own right, but to me balance is the most critical attribute. From cerifications, Doug is an Expert Level Cycling coach, has coached multiple collegiate crew teams, is CTS certified, etc...you get the point. He's competed at Kona twice, was a collegiate rower, and has various other athletic accomplishments, so he clearly knows the game from the athlete's side. And he's flat out a great guy. I've worked with him for a couple years and, if you didn't know him, you wouldn't believe it is true how highly he is regarded by his athletes, friends, colleagues, and customers. I really couldn't think of much more I want in a coach.


This spring he gave me much advice and told me "Please don't hesitate to shout with any questions as they arise, no worries there", in response to an email in which I told him I was going to be racing for another coaching company's Tri Team. When I was still up in the air about committing to hiring a coach, he helped me grasp my current fitness and helped analyze results from a cycling field test. Even after one week, I know I made an excellent decision and that this is going to put my past results to shame very quickly!


Going forward, I am getting back into the swing of training, being surprised at how insanely effective directed and smart training is, and excitedly looking to how I will grow every session, every week.


Upcoming checkpoints: Cycling Field Test 10/13 and SRM "Chat", back to 10+ hour weeks (!!! :-D), maybe even a new J O B!


Next entry: SRM 'review' (moreso just me drooling over its awesomeness) and Field Test Results

What would you do if you had a 're-set button'?

Disclaimer: this entry is a rarity on this blog, you get to think as opposed to skim and 'listen'. Additionally, this may or may not be a result of lacking the intellectual stimulation returning to college normally provides me...

Read the title again. What does 're-set button' mean to you? What do you want it to be? Does it simply represent something emotional or is it physically tangible? What would you want to happen if you hit the 're-set button'?

I'm guessing many of you may have come across "if only I could start over with everything I knew now!", whether that was something you settled on or not is a different thing. Lightly, I think: that would be pretty cool, but the more I think the worse it gets (that's just me).

There are three picture frames that have hung on the wall along the back staircase at my house for as long as I can remember. Noting my clear lack of attentiveness at times (I like to call it selective everything-ing), I will just assume it has been there for something like 15 years. The three paintings/drawings hang together on a flat portion where the stairs turn left. They all are interesting and unique independently, but clustered together they are almost less noticeable. Even moreso, with there being three items to take in and my sheer lack of capacity to read anything that is not 25% (okay...50%) numerical or mathematical symbols, I never paid much attention to them. One time, years after they appeared, I looked at them and thought "that's kinda messed up". Yes, maybe a hair childish...but, you see, I was a child. I never really gave them much thought after that initial interaction: I was well aware the pictures were not going to change, so why go back to it. Apparently, some little part inside of me grew up, primarily my overanalytical characteristics that fires randomly in both timing and means of focal point. Many years ago (no, I'm not a wise sage...but it was years ago), one specific picture stood out to me. At the time I understood a small concept the artist was trying to slam into my brain that hated reading. The picture I am speaking of is a rather (and this is an understatement) abstract representation of a 'person', who has seemingly lost contact with himself. This person has an uncomfortably long arm that reaches underneath him and is near a little triangle that could be mistaken for an awkward, small tail. Upon your first five or so glances the illustration seems too 'weird' to receive much attention. Eventually, as stated previously, I gave in and looked at the painting, which reads in writing that is neither explicitly neat (call it 'artistic' writing) nor messily written:

"he discovered his re-set
button early on and there were not many things that
bothered him all the rest of his days
just because of that"

When I was younger I figured that this was some weird thing my parents (likely my mom as she always had a good eye for interesting things like this) had gotten and plastered there to the empty, boring staircase that led up towards my room and other parts of the upstairs. Then I lightly considered what it was doing there and thought it was some dark representation of this person who clearly doesn't like who he is or life in general. It seemed creepy and like this 're-set button' was some way to simply end life, a sort of suicidal thing that came with a confusing rebirth clause. But mainly, I was still stuck to the 'it fills up the space well' mindset.

Alas, I finally became the wise, old sage that I am today! If you didn't catch the sarcasm, leave. I'm blogging about a weird picture that hangs in my stairwell while all of you are probably expecting some cycling-based blabber that you'd care even less about. As I digress, that is neither here nor there. I've thought about this painting and the text on and off in the past few years, but as a whole representation rather than two separate entities. It is obvious that the artist included the text and the picture together for a purpose. The precise message is probably somewhat different for everyone who looks at the picture. Some may feel that the person should hit it and start over because some unfortunate things have happened in life. Others may feel it is simply comforting to know that at any moment you can ditch everything going on and restart. Others yet may be frightened at so easily being able to make the current world become irrelevant and meaningless.

My interpretation is none of these, and I feel that my interpretation is exemplary of how I perceive most of the world around me. As much dedication I have in the physical realm of everything that we do, I strongly believe that mental strength is exponentially more effective and important than physical strength. Part of it is that without mental strength, gains in physical strength are greatly compromised. I like the 'suffering' that individual sports carry with them, and am well aware I am not an expert or veteran of the sufferfest...but I like to think I'm gaining ground. But without mental and emotional adhesion and persistence, very little is possible. So, you may ask, what does all that have to do with this weird, creepy picture?

As the world is pretty much a projection of our views and knowledge, viewpoint is more than just critical in our current attitude. It is critical in how our attitude develops and why it is different than yesterday or years ago. A clear representation of this is how the picture changed for me over the years. The picture stayed the same. In fact, it has stayed completely stationary for nearly two decades. Another example is to ask anyone about a past event or even most factual happenings, there is some embedded emotional investment.

The 're-set' button isn't some way to bail out of life's difficulties or something that is comforting to know that is there just in case. Both of these represent a lack of control and stability. To me, the button is simply a tangible reminder that we have every bit of control over ourselves and much of our surroundings. If you are aware of your capacity to fix something gone awry or your ability to change direction, that is all the comfort in the world you need. It really can be that simple, at least intellectually. Simple is not necessarily immediately tangible and attainable, but it's a lot better this way. And it doesn't mean that there is any sort of marked endpoint. Finales and failures are a physical culmination of a mental disembarkment, but are by no means eternal if a change in thought comes along. There is no finale as there is always something to be done. Every day as many (and likely quite a few more) people are failing on reaching their goals as those that are attaining theirs. These goals are internal, external, personal, detached, deep, superficial, specific, general, etc. Nevertheless, they are all goals in some respect, and all started from the one same, singular thing: an idea that was important enough to someone that it deserved enough special attention to be a focal point of much work and care. Personally, I have many goals in many realms of life: some of which I may touch on at a later date. I have been slightly adrift recently but became aware of it and regained footing. Time to move in a positive direction! I'm not hitting any 're-set button', just doing what I know I (and anyone) can do: be better.

Offseason Project: Full Overhaul of Blog

Welcome to the new blog, the Pursuit of Glory, at pursuingglory.blogspot.com. Why a new blog, you ask? Because I am left with a lot of free time without training. Okay, maybe it is really that I wanted a title that pertained to everything that embodies me rather than being seemingly void of anything except triathlon. Which leads to reason two: I am not always going to be focusing on a singular sport for the rest of my life, and there may (but hopefully not) be times I will not able to do anything competitive at all.

Also, I flat out liked the name more. And I spent a couple hours on the logo...surprised? I was able to retain the original concept that led to me blogging at all "The Run for Glory" and make it a more wholesome, meaningful title. Considerations included Chasing Glory (which I found to be directly associated with NYRR), Chasing Jens (Voigt, obviously, but too specific...and might as well chase unpredictable, badass rockets), Kurtis sarcastically tossed out "try not to suck" (which I amused myself with considering - but he said that's what he would call his blog if he had one), and, lastly, I considered "Levius Fortius Citius" (Smoother Stronger Faster) but playing off of the Olympic Motto was a bit too overboard epic sounding. Then I got thinking and came to the idea of using pursue rather than chase. Chase gives the connotation of something that you are fully aware and knowledgeable of, but have not attained. Pursuit, to me, is more of a quest that will take you places you never knew existed.

May the the Pursuit of Glory begin continue.

The Return to Glory. Alas.

I've been on a hiatus, both athletically and by means of blogging. The two tend to go hand-in-hand. I have felt very out of shape, hitting a lifetime high of approximately 170lbs while still maintaining okay training. I nearly got discouraged, but was aware that I was still somewhat strong and just needed to regain some mental (and some physical) structure. I cleaned up my diet, finally utilizing Sports Nutrition for Endurance Athletes - eliminating high saturated fat foods and rotating days of non-meat eating. I started eating more before AND during workouts and focused on eating for recovery, which is much different than eating to refill the tank. With this plan and an earlier sleep schedule, I was headed I. The right direction. Then I worked on having a purpose in training...rather than 'biking a lot'.

My Saviori here were a few individuals: first of whom is Jeff Dixon, our fearless Cat 2 leader of Base-36, who gave me a painful sprint workout, a boatload of his knowledge and advice (only a portion of which I have utilized and absorbed), and a tune-up workout. More impressive than anything is he got me to take a day off. By the way, I do NOT take days off. Also, Bill Black, an older local rider who has been around quite some time gave me advice on training, physiology, and ideas on threshold work. Third is Doug Welling, a fellow employee, awesome person overall, and Elite Level Cycling coach (but you'd know if you saw his resume...not by him telling you). Numerous others include the Base-36 teammates, and friends/family putting up with my annoying eating plan and blabberings!

So enough for the overly drawn out lead-in. Time for the good stuff. While I was working my way back to fitness, I figured I could get in some races...especially if my teammates were going. We headed down to the Cat 4 Concord Crit last weekend on August 6th. I had not taken proper rest leading into the race and was thus unintentionally training through it: Tuesday was a very hard hilly group ride, Wednesday was a sprint workout then a harder than expected evening ride, and Thursday was supposed to be easy but I made some solid efforts in the group ride. Friday I did take easy, doing one hour very slow. The Concord Crit is hilly (for a crit) but still quite fast. I felt rather flat most of the race, but managed an okay position into the final turn (8th or so) and made up a few spots in the sprint to finish 4th in the field and 5th overall. This race showed me that if I came into a race feeling fairly fresh and raced smart, good things were bound to happen.

On Wednesday (August 10th) three of us on Base-36 headed down to the Witches Cup in Salem, MA. Chris Jordan hasn't been on the bike as much as he would like to and was kind enough to actually give me his race entry as I did not know the Cat 4/5 race sold out in hours. Chris was not merely a spectator, he was extremely vocal throughout the race and let me know when I needed to move up or when the pace slowed and I didn't notice as the recovery felt too nice to consider making a move. Liam Somers also came down with us for the race. I heard this was a 'fast' crit, but thought to myself "well, aren't all crits pretty fast - this is probably going to be like Concord without the hills". I was very wrong. As Liam and I took a few laps I scouted out the competitors as normal...but soon found out that I was tagging every 3rd or 4th person as looking strong, with many contenders in mind. I immediately focused on myself and my own race, as this was clearly not the place to "go" only on one person's move. I took one extra lap to relax and missed the line-up. Thanks to Liam, I was saved. He had a great spot for me...I jumped from 6th row outside to 2nd row inside. The last couple minutes my heart rate naturally jumped and I started to enjoy being at the race.

The race started, and I missed clipping in two times. I lost contact with Liam immediately, however, the sheer fact that I had a teammate up ahead to work to get back to saved me! By the start of the 4th lap I was back into position with Liam. Without Liam up there and the courtesy you get from a teammate, I would have used a lot more energy getting up front or, worse, been stuck in the back. Throughout the race I stayed within the top 15 most of the time, and any time I got pushed back I worked to move up. When it got mid-race and my focus ever drifted for a lap or two, Chris was right there to yell at me to make a move. The race was interesting. We were either going 30mph or 23mph, and it didn't hold at either pace for long. Looking back, on some laps my HR was dangerously high - probably in the fast laps when I moved up or went on attack. There was little going on in the sense of breaks, only twice did anyone make a legitimate effort. The first was coming off of a prime at lap 14 or so, when 6 of us (who did not go for the prime) just rolled out of the first turn with a 15m gap. One guy yelled to hit it, so we laid down the pressure in an effort to create a significant gap. the field responded quickly as they did not want such a large group to gap the field. Within 1.5 laps it was back together. But the pace was really ramped up. Once we were back together for a couple laps it settled, and I was able to take 2nd place in a 2 place prime with very minimal effort. I did this by coming hard out of turn 2 in the lead by 5m or so. I let one guy pass me by putting in a sprint.

With about 9 laps to go one guy made a hard effort at a break, but only held until 5 to go. The race began to get jittery, with everyone jockeying for position. I stayed in the top 5-8 for laps 5,4, and part of 3 as Jeff had advised to do so by any means. On the second to last lap I prepared to emulate my line for the finish: top 3 coming into turn 3, pedal through as much of the turn as humanly possible without crashing myself, then the rest would be guts and waiting til I got past the pearly white line for the 32nd time. In this preparation, I scuffed my inside pedal pretty hard; it surprised me but I was expecting it to be a close call. I now knew exactly how much I could pedal through the turn.

Last Lap: Bell rings. You can feel the guys around you switching between seated and standing, internally debating whether taking the pull for position will bonk him or if it will be the move that sets up a top 5 finish. I kept the throttle on, not even backing if the guy in front of me came back. I held the inside for turn 1 and on the sweeping bend. Guys came around the outside trying to wizz by effectively putting me back to almost 10th, but with my position I was not at all concerned. I was left to take the inside alone with the head/cross wind to avoid feathering my brakes. The guy from MIT and I hit hands in our drops, but leaned into it and used each other to avoid an ugly crash. In the intensity of it all I said 'watch it' but was almost emotionally detached, my focus clearly elsewhere. Around turn 2, slipping right into third wheel as planned. I let off for the first time the whole lap and got about 1.5 feet in between the 2nd wheel and myself; just enough backing off to take the turn as planned, but keeping the pressure on enough to not sacrifice position on the inside. I give a final check to the inside of my rear wheel. Clear - but they were three wide right on my tail. No one was stupid enough to fly into the last turn and risk taking out the entire field (sadly someone around 25th thought it was worth it and took a bunch of guys out). I am in one of my top two gears. I accept the fact that coming out of the turn I will be without a wheel in front of me, and I disregard any other option. Pedal twice HARD into the turn, keep my foot up, two more on the apex, hold. As expected, I came out of the turn without a wheel in front of me and I knew I had people on my wheel. So I laid it all down, in an effort to create a gap and then hold it. I hammered with only one sliver of the white line in my focus and wouldn't stop until my wheel crossed it. With about 5m to go I internally knew I had the win, but didn't want to let up one bit because people had been on my wheel and could have made their move late. I yelled as I crossed the line in excitement and joy. I didn't even feel tired, I felt stronger and faster and more ready than I had at any moment of the race...but I knew if I tried to pedal it'd be laughable.



After the warm down lap, Chris came right out and congratulated me. The photographer was there and told me that the above picture would be gracing The Salem News Sports Section the following morning.

It was so exciting just to be at the race. It was awesome to finish and win the race...I didn't even realize it was a 'big' race. I was later informed that this is one of the top crits in New England/The Northeast, which pretty much just topped off the day. When I was with Chris I told him "Sweet! I just actually made money racing my bike!" I though the actual concept was far cooler than actually winning some dough. I thought the prize was $60 and with a $35 entry and $10 of gas, I netted $15. Boy, was I wrong. I got a trophy, which was sweet, then went to get my prize (expecting an envelope) and they pulled out a large carboard box, a canister of endurox, and a handlebar mounted light (for the prime). I tell them they must be mistaken and that I won the 4.5 race and not the Pro race. They tell me, "Yes, this is yours". My jaw dropped. It was a pair of Origin-8 Road Speed Pro Wheels that list over $700, which alone is about $640 more than I was expecting to win. Needless to say it was an awesome surprise!

Overall, I am glad that my recent change in mentality has yielded positive results. I have taken on the challange of losing weight while gaining strength and netting a huge performance boost. This tactic is very difficult to do mid-season, and weight loss is best saved for the build phase. But it all is working out and I plan on gaining even more ground in the next month. I have a couple more races coming up and don't plan on letting up an inch of ground. My goal is another top place to get upgrade points, and then work for my teammates and put in work for them to get a couple wins. Winning this race was an awesome experience, but most of the time I feel like I am a great workhorse and would be able to benefit my teammates in that respect quite a bit. However and wherever it goes I am all smiles and just gonna keep on rolling.

Tri Blog Gone Bike Blog!

Yes, it has been a while. And quite a bit has changed - in many facets of life. But first I must address the one thing that has been building and growing on me since I had my first taste: Cycling. This all started with one race last summer, which I did on a whim. And I have admitted (to my own surprise) on many accounts that I have never had a feeling as I did at the end of that race. No matter how hard I pushed in running workouts or races - track or XC - I did not get to the point of wondering if I'd actually finish without falling over. As I pushed for the finish, completely unaware of the location of any of my opponents, I was not sure if the effort would put me off balance enough to take me out. It didn't...and the insane feeling subsided slightly slower than it came on in the last 150m of the race. The feeling was a rush; not just the absolute fatigue or 'pain' of going all out to breaking point, but also the excitement of a whole 18 mile race coming down to fractions of a second. The most potent aspect of the feeling was it felt like everything I had hoped for knowing I gave it all, and the absolute feeling of muscular exhaustion and 'pain' was something I can't explain. It's just one of those things you know, if and when it happens. I thought I had gotten there in some killer interval workouts running, but it wasn't like that race.

Winter came along, and I kept doing my training for tris. I focused on running in the heart of winter to do my 22 miler on my 22nd birthday. It went great, and was an amazing experience on its own (see link). Then I kicked in the trainer, running, and swimming to prep for the tri season. For my enjoyment and improvement on the bike, I joined the UR Cycling Team and flat out had a kick-ass time with the guys. Did a bunch of races, learned a lot, and even became a bit stronger, smarter rider - feel free to check out the spring races recaps!

Anyways, graduation happened. I must have an aside to my senior week training...my most solid week training ever, by a longshot. By the numbers: Hours: 21.2 (all cardio), Mileage: Swim: 4.5, Bike: 257, Run: 44. The average run pace was 6:58/mile, and average bike was 18.8MPH. After graduation I was living in Brighton, MA with my brother - had no access to a pool, had no idea where to bike, and had the Charles to run along...plus days were pretty much taken. As you could imagine, that kinda took a chunk out of training. I was able to get some good days here and there - but only got one solid week until recently. With the clear idea that I had lost a lot in the pool and that I was loving cycling, the decision to take cycling head on seemed fair...and fun. Also, purchasing a tri bike was beyond a large reach - and I still didn't have a well-structured training program. What did I do?

So I took a massively down week. I mean MASSIVELY. For me, a day off was a rarity - last week had three (3!!) days off, and a total of 7.4 hours...in two days this week I have 7.0 - not including some core I'll do later on this evening. The down week let me relax and recover, before amping it up about 3 notches. I want to hit over 20 hours, peak 275 miles on the bike, get some running and core in, and enjoy every moment of it. I've started planning out what I need to do for workouts to make the time worth it, and - of extreme importance - maintain quality. More to come on actual training plan. This week is to feel it out, test out how I can use group rides as both recovery and workouts. Example for this week: Tuesday PVC = hard (first time this year, so 'nuff said about it being hard as hell). Thursday could be recovery if I try some intervals fun on Wednesday, otherwise will be steady, with a couple hard hills, and maybe some additional efforts if I feel good. Saturday PVC = ?, I would LOVE to get a really killer sprint in here...and I mean go for the 'win', which is beyond a reach but will be a lot of fun to make the effort at!

I just got a new drivetrain for my baby: chain, cassette, and front cogs...all thanks to the great people at CycleMania! Not only did the bike literally feel better than the day I got it, but my handlebar tape was cleaned up and retaped (without mention of it), Dave cleaned my front wheel hub because it was creaking, and I think (...but I can't verify) my front brake pads are new. These guys are great, and I'd hate if I ever find out that the geometry/fit of a Felt, Scott, Fuji, or any other bike they don't carry is optimal for me. Trek, Cervelo, Seven, or Cannondale.

If it weren't clear enough you'll be seeing more cycling in this thing - gonna try to get some running races in and a duathlon or three...and maybe a sprint tri if I grow a pair...

That's it for now. I hope to get back on track with more consistent posting! Feel free to nag me (if anyone is even listening out there) and I will be sure to get a post out. Could be about something other than swim/bike/run too...yes, I know, shocking but it's true.

In An Absurdly Perfect World

Let me start out by saying: Luck does not exist, you make your own luck, and being lucky never won anyone anything. (Have fun thinking about that one!)

Also: a quick alert: There will be a lot of pictures in this entry. Eye candy like woah, so be prepared.

Anyways, this entry is purely inspired by an unintentional all-nighter, excitement for the coming triathlon season, and obviously - the most important thing of all - looking fast (not necessarily being fast). What if you could put together the most epic and (just-so-happens-to-be) most epic-looking set-up out there? Yes, you would do it...pending resources and time, and getting good enough that you could rock it without looking like a complete fool. Just more motivation to get into the best shape I can.

Forever, my favorite colors have been Black and Orange...especially when it comes to athletic gear (black and orange isn't quite standard formal attire...yet). One might think this is from my Middle/High School colors at North Yarmouth Academy: the Panthers, but I have loved the colors from well before then.

So why the excitement about black and orange? It just so happened to work out that PBMC Triathlon Team has Black & Orange kits (1) that are awesome to say the least - and from first sight of them I was pumped (big understatement). Then, as a graduation gift to myself, I bought a pair of Oakley Jawbone sunglasses: customized as black and orange (2). The kit and shades are set in stone. Now the variables: bike, shoes.

(1)

(2)

I am currently riding a 2006 Trek Madone 5.2, and put aero bars on it for multisport races. Obviously having a TT bike would be a lot more optimal of a situation for triathlon...so I've been looking into potential machines. I have no idea what the summer/next year will consist of job-wise, but that's why we're talking hypothetically, right? Top choice (pending it being a great fit) is the 2011 Felt B12 (3), a killer ride. I mean a Speed Concept 9.9 ProjectOne would be sexy, but completely absurd (I suppose a picture can be put in anyways (4)).

(3)

(4)

The last bit is something my buddy Seth just showed me: the new Mizuno Wave Universe (5) racing flat. Note: I'm not sure how viable of a shoe this is as I have never tried it, but it is the lightest, slickest flat out there.

(5)

Put them all together and what do you get: Speechless.

My (Hopefully) Last Cat 5 Race: Bristol RR

I was very excited for this race. The previous weekend had been lackluster and I was irking for some real racing - primarily from myself, as I had been surrounded by strong athletes last weekend. So the only logical option was step up and stick it to it! My excitement for the race extended being needing to do well: this race was going to be 37 miles and with 2.5 times through some legitimate hills. 37 miles isn't "all that much" by standards of many other Categories, but it represents what one might start to see in the Cat 4 level, where I hope to be in my next cycling race.

I had a pretty solid week of training going into this race, with a track workout and a couple good OTB (off the bike) efforts running. I made a point to not taper for the race as it is not a multisport race and this mindset is critical to maintain focus on tri's. So I took Thursday fairly strong (after 2.5 hours on the trainer Wednesday) by swimming, then doing the Bristol course to a pretty hard 2.5-mile tempo, due to time limitations. Friday I took as an easy 7 miler, which felt insanely relaxed (too relaxed, in fact). The one good thing is that I finally got a good night's rest the night before a race. Two nights before, again, was pretty bad. I had an econ exam Friday and hadn't been to class for the second half of the semester (I know, I'm a bad person...but what can I say, I was busy training...). I got under 5 hours of sleep, but the test went fine and I was glad to be finished with exams!

Now for the fun stuff: race day! Woke up at about 7:45 in an effort to get as much sleep as I could manage without being late or screwing up the race day schedule. Got stuff together and made it to Bristol at 9:35 and check-in was closing at 9:40 (cut it close because I forgot to get gas Friday). Got situated and set out on a warm up, towards the finish line. Felt about as flat as I had felt relaxed Friday on my run - I knew it was too good. Chatted with Mike, Kevin, and Chris about planning for the race as we had a MASSIVE team (10 of ~30 total). Because the race was 2 laps and change, we figured keep the first lap steady but in control, and move if people moved.

A quick bit about the course (visual provided below):

• Staging/Official Start: Just before 14 Mile mark
• Lap/Finish: 17 Mile Mark
• Solid 3 mile climb (14-17) then good descent, then constant climb (4-6), then FAST descent (50+MPH)

We set out from the staging and the pace was pedestrian. However, I felt like crap so I decided to sit in rather than take a relaxed spot out front with Mike at a pace that would actually help me warm up had I been feeling good. We hit the first section of hill and things remained very calm, but I felt pretty bad still. We passed the lap/finish (2 laps/34 miles to go) and cruised the downhill, which was when the pace definitely went into normal racing tempo. Coming into Egypt road (mile 4.25) there was some basic positioning going on, into the hill a U of Buffalo guy swung out left and blew his tire right in front of me. He started to slow and looked like he was coming right and I quickly yelled for him to just hold his line, which saved me from making a drastic maneuver. We hit the hill at a fair pace, and a Buffalo Velo guy led it out a bit. The bulk of the group was able to maintain contact for the first time around, or reattached shortly after the peak. Kevin, Mike, and Liam all looked real good up the hill the first time - I was working to hold on and would let a gap open up knowing I could seal it on the next flat/downhill safely.

We took the downhill fast, in the sense we didn't ride our brakes. When we were going about 50MPH I heard a flat pretty loud and it was Mike Hoffman's - not cool. Apparently it ripped a couple inch gash in his sidewall and he had a near-life threatening speed wobble, and his chain dropped at the same time. Luckily, by a lot of cleat dragging and well maintained control he came to a stop without crashing. Mike, who I believed to be a (or the) top contender was now sadly out of the race. I really wanted him in it to see what damage he could do. On the next set of hills everything started to split. By the time we hit the finish line (1 lap to go) there were about 10 of us remaining, including Liam, Kevin, and myself. We came into Egypt road fast and hit the hill much harder this time. Midway through it was down to 6 of us: Liam, Kevin, Overlook guy, White kit, Buffalo Velo, and myself. Went hit the hill hard enough that the Buffalo Velo guy started swerving and eventually bonked and toppled over towards the top. Only problem was, he nearly took Kevin and I out once and actually took out Liam. He fell perfectly into Liam's line and Liam didn't have a chance to react. He fell as well, but was uninjured. Sadly, Kevin and I were forced to keep going as the two others kept pushing. As we hit the crest it was Kevin, white kit, and me - with the Overlook guy about 15 meters back. We pushed and were able to finally drop the Overlook guy.

And then there were three. We kept in a paceline and were cruising pretty good - making sure to keep a strong pace and work together. Pulls started out fairly long, but shortened as we neared the staging area and got hit with some unfavorable weather. At about 4.5 miles from the finish, a crazy downpour came upon us - with pretty killer winds. It was nasty and wet, and made drafting almost worse than pulling. Before coming into the final turn ~2 miles from the finish, I took a pull and continually downshifted as I felt like I was running out of gas...not a good sign with so little to go. We moved along, more as an amoeba now, towards the finish and up the beginning hills. No one made a move and Kevin and I spoke briefly - he mentioned making a move to me as we were coming up to the "kill zone" that we had determined would be the time to make a move to seal the deal. It was the last kicker leading up to the false flat that was the finish. Once we hit the hill - I hit the gas hard, not having any idea if I'd blow up. I put in some real hard work and was nervous to see if anyone was with me (I couldn't hear anyone). After a good 20 seconds I checked back as I sat down to recover a bit and knew, to a fairly high certainty, that the race was mine. I had gotten a good 20 meters on Kevin and the other guy, who started to drop Kevin. I made sure to keep the pedal down and check my back often, as I did go very early (considering how toasted I felt) - especially if the other guy had planned to make a substantial counter on the false flat. When I was 150m out it was for sure I had won and I pushed it hard through the finish - winning by 12 seconds. Kevin took 3rd (1st for NYS Championships, I am Maine, 2nd place was CO) and Liam took 5th.

A nice bonus was the shwag! I got a new Lazer O2 Helmet, which lists for $110! So pumped about it. Wore it today (Monday on a 40 mile ride and love it, definitely a massive upgrade). Overall it was a great race and I liked that it was nearly 2 hours - felt more realistic and less like a sprint. Can't wait to get to 40+ mile races! So I'll be sending in a request to Cat up to 4's, as I now have 8 races - 5 of which are wins. I can't wait to get into some races where I can get my ass handed to me, looking forward to it (seriously!).

Hollenbeck's Spring Classic RR

This was what I call going into a race at 80%. I knew I was going to be pretty sore and tired coming out of the Duathlon from the day before, but my hopes were still high. I wanted to race to the best of my ability on that day, regardless of how I was feeling going into it. I was only able to really fall asleep at 12:30, despite going into bed at 11:15, and woke up just after 6:00AM to get things set and prep to leave at 7:15 for the 2+ hour drive to Virgil, NY. We got to Virgil a bit before 9:30, much time to spare before the 10:15 start time. We got our numbers and had some time to spare. I did a really brief warm up to check out the uphill finish. About halfway up my legs felt shot so I rode down and did some light spinning on flats.

There's the course. Some decent hills, with one real kicker just after a long slight hill up to mile 16, and a legitimate uphill finish.

The Race: Like most other races, this one went out real easy. The first thing I noticed was a large contingency of Ommegeng/Syracuse Bicycle members who were holding out the front line. I sat in as best I could without losing too much contact with the front of the pack because it was clear they were going to make moves. As we hit a very quick uphill the leaders tested the pack a little by picking it up swiftly. It didn't drop anyone besides those were were noticeably unprepared for racing. Next we hit a decent climb at 5.5 miles in, this one was much more serious as it was the first real effort of the race. Normally, I'd come out of the hill up at the front and comfortable, but about halfway through I was already looking to where the peak was. I made it up the first hill, and knew it wasn't going to get any better - the feeling I had when I went up the finish hill warming up. So I made sure to conserve as best as I could. The next set up was a slight uphill, with a quick downhill recovery, then a steeper and longer hill (miles 6-10.5). Coming up the first part, the leaders started pushing pretty solidly - as would be expected. There were less than ten guys who got a bit of a gap at this point, 2 were slightly off the lead pack by 15-20m and the rest of us were around 30m back. Kevin and I were at the front of this group. We saw that another hill was upcoming and knew we had to get back before it if we wanted to be in the race - because they were not going to let up at all on the second hill. I was feeling pretty fried working these hills, which was a major letdown as I was excited to be in a race with a team who was working it pretty good and I wanted to be in it to step it up - but the duathlon beat me up pretty good. Kevin made the push to reattached and I figured I'd might as well go with. Once we caught the two who were 15m or so back, Kevin started to slow up and had it not been a teammate I would have stayed tucked in. Without receiving a signal I jumped in front of him and pulled with what I had at that time to reattach. Luckily my efforts did not go in vain. After the race Kevin told me had I not jumped in for that pull he didn't think he would have been able to reattach and maintain.

That pull made me taste the red zone a little, not something I've ever had until about 1 mile to go in a bike race. I knew had I kept crushing myself I would've blown up. The next climb was immediately after my pull and once we hit it, I was struggling. I worked to not lose too much contact, and there were more than 5 of us who got dropped back. At the pretty consistent downhill we worked to make contact - and got damn close: about 3 seconds (45m) coming out of a turn. Only two of us (myself and a CNYC guy) had put in significant work, and we could've gotten back in it had 2-3 of the other guys made the effort. We started to drift and lost the leaders. I continued to keep the tempo up and didn't realize I dropped the others, so I sat up and waited so I could conserve. The group eventually grew to 12 (I only thought it was 6 during the race but I just checked the results: http://flcycling.org/?page_id=2101). But I took a few pulls, and the CNYC guy did nearly all the work. We took it somewhat comfortably, but I was pretty tired and just wanted to have enough gas to move up the finish hill. Things were pretty uninterested here on out - besides that kicker I mentioned at 16...not fun. We came into the turn towards the finish and cruised into the hill. The CNYC guy jumped and I let him go: not only did he deserve it, but I didn't know how little I had in the tank and didn't want to blow up halfway up the hill. The next guy went - from SU (Cat4) - and I stuck somewhat close to him, less than a meter off his back wheel. The hill kicked up but I still had no idea where the finish was, then, when I finally saw it, the line was 20m away. I started to reel him in and with about 10m to go, put in a hard effort to (with a high guarantee) nip him at the line - I was too sore to try to bury anyone. I got him by less than half a wheel length to secure 12th place (2nd in the chase group), but knew I had it for sure

I was glad to be done. Kevin ended up 3rd, which is excellent considering it was in a 4/5 race. I'm glad I had a hand in getting him back up to that lead pack, it was pretty rewarding knowing that even though my race was quite lackluster, I helped a teammate get to a good finish. I hadn't experienced this before (I tried to make some moves with Jensen at the PSU Crit, but we weren't organized enough). I'm really looking forward to the absolutely massive UR contingent @ Bristol this coming Saturday! Currently 11 of 18 confirmed riders are with UR!