Quenton Cassidy has what is probably the Best Book Quote. Ever.

Again to Carthage, John L. Parker, Jr. Quenton Cassidy, in a note to his college girlfriend and good friend about returning to racing.

"When you're a competitive runner in training you are constantly in a process of ascending.  It's a simple idea, but the more I thought about it, the more profound it became to me.

It's not something most human beings would give a moment of consideration to, that it is actually possible to be living for years in a state of constant betterment.  To consider that you are better today than you were yesterday or a year ago, and that you will be better still tomorrow or next week or at tournament time your senior year.  That if you're doing it right you are an organism constantly evolving toward some agreed-upon approximation of excellence.  Wouldn't that be at least one definition of a spiritual state?

When I was a runner it was something we lived every second of our lives.  It was such a part of us that if we had ever given it any thought, it would have been a mental lapse, a sign of weakness.  Of course I am getting better every day, I would have said, what the hell am I training for otherwise?  As if there were only one alternative, as if the arrow of improvement necessarily parallels the arrow of time, and in only one direction.

You might say that we're just talking about an artifact of youth.  That when you're young it is only natural to grow larger and stronger, to learn things, to master more and more of the skills and techniques of life, to get better, to improve. 

If that's true then how do we end up with so many monsters, trolls, dickheads, and pyschopaths?  So many Pol Pots, Joe McCarthys, Ted Bundys, and Lee Harvey Oswalds?  Or Nixons for that matter?  They were all young once and relatively harmless, and in a better universe they would have stayed that way.

Or consider the religious aesthete whose piety and serenity and good works increase and multiply as the years go by, into middle age, into old ago, onto the deathbed.  She's working on it too, and what keeps her going is the absolute conviction that every day she's getting better, saving more souls, that she's getting closer to God.

My point is that this way of living that we once took for granted isn't necessarily a "natural" process at all.  It's not like water flowing down to the sea, not like aging.  It takes effort, determination, conviction.  But mostly it takes will.  It takes a conscious decision to follow one difficult uphill path, and then the will to stay with it and not waver, to not give up.

Our fellow students at Southeastern back then, all twenty-five thousand of them, were getting better some days and worse some days, and they were doing so at different things and at different times.  There were athletes in other sports who had better sophomore years than they had junior years.  There were athletes who were better in high school than they would ever be in college.  There were some who were good or at least average students when they arrived and then discovered beer or the opposite sex or both and were never good at anything else in their lives.  Generally speaking, most of them probably knew more when they left than when they arrived, but then again what they ended up knowing might have been wrong.  

I'm not saying that we ourselves did not have setbacks, doldrums, bad luck, and reversals of all kinds.  We got sick and we got hurt, certainly, often because of our quest.  We got waylaid and distracted by fads, false idols, wars, and rumors of wars.  I'm not saying we weren't human in every way you can be human.  I'm just saying that all things being equal, by and large each and every day we were getting better at that one singularly difficult task and goal we had set for ourselves.

And I'm also saying that win, lose, or draw, just being involved in such an undertaking was itself ennobling.  It was an uplifting enterprise that we all intuitively understood to be such, and I now know that almost incidentally the spiritual force of our effort created a slipstream that drew all else in our lives along with it and made us better in other ways as well.  Better, happier, more complete human beings than we would have been otherwise.

And Andrea, I missed all that.  The arrow of my life was going one direction one day, another direction another day.  I had people who thought I was wonderful when I won their appeal, or secured custody of their child, and I had legatees who hated me because they didn't end up quite as rich as they thought they would.  Some of it is satisfying, some interesting, but precious little is in the least bit ennobling.

This is not ennui, not nostalgia.  I am not numb or jaded.  I've had revelations in deep waters and gone all light and airy inside listening to good music made by friends.  I appreciate things, I really do.  I can be made happy on a cloudy day by as little a thing as a stray sunbeam on a branch of elkhorn coral.  All of that.  I've been blessed and blessed and blessed and only a scoundrel and ingrate would complain about any of it and I'm certainly not doing that.

But still, I miss the spiritual certainty in the direction of that arrow.  And when recently I looked around and saw people in my life dying of natural and unnatural causes it occurred to me that I myself would not live forever and that I had long ago given up the certainty of that arrow before I had to.  It also occurred to me that I had a little bit of time left to reclaim it.  To be a runner again, to know precisely what it is I'm trying to accomplish every day.  It won't be the same, I know.  It can't be.  But it can be something.  

That's what it's all about."

Tucson, Week 1. In pictures.

Hope you all enjoy my first week in Tucson in Pictures!

First step upon arrival. Put trainer way in corner :).

Mexican PEPSI! REAL stuff, no American junk. I actually haven't drank it yet...I have to remind myself it is not against the anti-soda Travis, I'll likely have it after a ride when it gets hot (80ish) so I can feel like I'm in a commercial :p.
Also, I got a 6lb, 10oz container of salsa at the same store (17th St Farmer's Market) for $4.99! Woohoo!

Some 2013 words of wisdom from PBM Coaching & Kurt, utilizing The Who logo.

Sweat much? And it was only endurance and only 65F!

Redington Pass (cat 2 dirt climb). Yep, see that road? I was there about 15 mins before

Vegan 2 bean meatloaf! AWESOME!

Mt. Lemmon. The Queen of Tucson. At 9157ft it is the highest of the Santa Catalina Mountains (yes, I looked it up). Climbing it you go from ~2700ft to a max of ~8200ft, which is over a full mile of climbing in 21 miles riding. Given little downhills, you get almost 6500ft uphill while climbing! BEAST. Half of the mountain is considered an "above category climb"...it almost could be 3 HC climbs!

The other day while doing intervals with a friend. We stopped for the most beautiful pee break ever. Overlooking a valley between ridges - the road we rode up (haha) is in the tress on the lower left. It's amazing seeing mountains like this. I kept excitedly asking Adam "Is that the top?!" as we saw peak after peak. About the tenth time I asked we were finally there. With these really big mountains (especially in they are layered, and you'll never see the peak from the base.

If you want some cool reading on mountain structure, go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Topographic_prominence :).

Amazing. This was taken shortly after a massive fire burned down the entirety of Summerhaven, the small 'town' at the top of Mt. Lemmon. There is still the remnant foundation of one of the buildings that was there.

Two words: COOKIE CABIN. A little (non-vegan, non-GF) cookie monster's delight atop Mt. Lemmon in Summerhaven. A ~1000kcal cookie. Adam and I  didn't get close to finishing each of ours, even after burning 2500kJ on the climb (although many people who drove up devoured them with ease...). Needless to say, we got doggy bags: my roommates were VERY happy to hear I brought home goodies :).

Sexy. Tan. Lines. Cultivation of cyclist beauty...speaking of beauty, please see the next picture.

A little URXC Tribute, and moreso to that time I was "Once A Runner". If you are an athlete and haven't read Once A Runner by John L Parker Jr, then get on it (yes, such an amazing book deserves proper underlining). Oh, and, Gaunt IS Beautiful. The guy at the Giant shop here (Roadrunner Bike) loved the shirt too, which sealed the deal as it being 'my local shop (LBS)' here!

Homemade GF bread, Homemade Agave 'infused' Almond butter, Organic (no HFCS Smuckers crap) yummy Jam.

GF Pasta with chili cheesy sauce. Should've written this down as I threw ingredients  and sauce into a pot of pasta...

Only. One. Per. Week. Really looking forward to the CocCoNut Porter.

Mmmm. I love this bad boy. Saving it for post- Tucson Bike Classic (3 day stage race)...if I have an acceptable performance.

Snow. In Tucson. Yes, Arizona, and not at elevation (only 2000ft).

Further Snow 'proof'. Windshield. (At stoplight).

One last little thing. I don't care much for competing on Strava (anymore, I did last summer) because I am training, not aimlessly racing ghosts of rides gone past...but THIS IS AWESOME!! I was riding (with a nice tailwind after a sprint workout yesterday). Two Mainers atop the leaderboard in Tucson, AZ on a LONG downhill segment! (Both James and I are not considered the heavy power-beasts that usually crush downhills)

Hope you all enjoyed my very atypical non-wordy post! I'm loving Tucson, if you even had to ask.

Yours in Glory,

Travis

2013: The Beginning

Now is that interesting time of year as an endurance athlete. The race season is long since passed. You've taken time off, lost fitness, gained 'too much' weight, and let the mind wander. The 'off-season' was a haphazard compilation of fun riding, no riding, frustrating riding, and dreams of lots of riding. It was also a time to catch up on things that were but a figment of the imagination in the sweet-spot of summer racing and training: beer, late nights, that extra couple hours of doing something for no reason...essentially what everyone I know calls "life" or "fun". Aside from the extra time spent with friends -whether it is spent going out to dinner at 9PM or sitting at home catching up - I have few qualms with the dissipation of such things. This past week was the culmination of apathy for the structure and intensity by which I normally construct my training and general life planning. I had a hell of a lot of fun, saw many good friends (I'd like to 'give thanks' to the holiday bringing so many great people back home), indulged in good food and libations, and really let my training fall from a priority to a daily supplement. I ran in a race and played football the day after - two things I know make my body recoil in soreness...from Thursday through Saturday, I actually had to hold the railing while going down stairs. I went out to the bahhhsss with friends three times this week and shockingly enjoyed every bit of it (except almost falling asleep Saturday night!).

Some would think that these things signify that I am far from being prepared to re-enter training, or that it was such a "detox" that I will struggle to maintain focus upon an abrupt return to my daily toil. Neither of these are true. This ability to detach is critical in understanding the importance of every day's work and still being able to maintain focus on goals that are months or years away. Without an ability to step away from every minor detail, we lose sight of the entire picture. That doesn't mean that if a workout goes poorly then nothing matters or if a workout goes uncharacteristically well that all is perfect. It means you step away, understand the outcome, and grow. It's the beauty we experience as dedicated athletes while training: we wake up every single day knowing, not thinking, that we are better than we were yesterday. It's not always physical improvements though; every day offers different types and magnitudes of growth.

Today marks the day that I officially step into my training for 2013 and beyond (because what I do next season is more relevant to my future than the present). I am taking a variety of critical steps in improving my health, fitness, guidance, emotional strength, and my surroundings - both on and off the bike.

I leave you with something I saw this morning and see every morning when I wake up:

It is time to not only slowly 'return to glory', but to lay the foundation of the rest of my life. It would be foolish and simplistic to say that all this training is only for benefiting my future in cycling or even sport in general. Unlike many others, I do not carry the hope or idea that 2013 will 'go beyond my wildest dreams'. Thus, here is to 2013 reflecting the work, the dedication, the persistence that will lay a foundation of growth and fulfillment for years to come.

Return to Glory 2.0: Lake Auburn RR

It has been a very long time since my last post. Over a month and a half. Ouch. Luckily this doesn't mean that everything was going poorly, although things could have been a bit better. Battenkill was a blast (how could it not be!), but after that I had a flare up with my Achilles, then an obnoxiously confusing finish to Blue Hills which left me in 12th rather than top 5. The upturn was the last race of the Scarborough Crit series.

With about 8 laps to go (of 20), Hank and Chris Green got off the front. A few people tried to make moves but nothing stuck. Jurgen and I then decided it was time to give it a go. We attacked on the back stretch, but got hauled back in by none other than Ed Sebok. So we went again, Jurgen up the left off the front of the field and I went up the gutter on the right - away from the pack. Jurgen and I put in a really heavy chase for Chris and Hank that lasted a couple laps. They (if you have any idea who Hank and Chris are) were hitting it hard. Finally, up the little incline they were right in front of us - 25 meters - and I was burning...just hoping Jurgen would come around to close the last bit. Sadly he didn't (a massive 5 hour ride the day before finally got to him) and I gave A LOT to finish it off, bummed that I lost him in the process but it was my only hope of closing the last little bit. I tried to settle in, but my recovery wasn't coming along. I took pretty even pulls the rest of the way. With 4 to go Chris pulled past me and said, "Travis, it's all or nothing now". We held the break and I got the sprint. So I got the win on the first and last SIPC races in a breakaway, which I am pleased with. I ended up 3rd overall for the series with missing 3 races and 2 of my races were after another race, and I am also quite happy with that.

Fast forward a few weeks and it is the Lake Auburn Road Race. I had a grudge going into this one thanks to a dropped chain and the remaining 1.25 laps of TTing with people on my wheel, so at least I had some good practice hammering...that could be a foreshadow. The weather was classic crap: 55F, raining, windy. However, in my history of racing, bad weather yields a good result. I had 2 very decisive wins and 2 second places in bad weather (the two wins being ugly rain and cold).

Thus, small field (nowhere to hide) and people generally unwilling to work in a pack (good thing). At the line we were informed that we would be doing only 4 laps (w/ 3 potential King of the Walls - KOW). I ditched my 'jetpack' (extra water bottle in the back pocket, terminology cred to Jurgen as I have never heard this before) as the race was going to be just under my "3 bottle threshold". I tried to warm up for the race, didn't really work haha. The first downhill I was shivering so bad I kept checking to make sure nobody was encroaching on my space for concern of causing a pile up. First time up the wall we went slow. It was pretty lackadaisical for the whole first lap. I took a couple pulls just to keep from freezing. I talked to a CCB guy and we planned to attack the following lap.

Next lap comes around and Connor Cushman (PVC) takes the KOW and I'm second. I push after the hill to cause separation and stir things up. It worked...a little. The pack pulled back to me and Conner, but not easily - it was strung out. I sat up and someone else went off the front, a few of us pulled them in. It was clear it was about to hit a tipping point: it just wasn't going to be ping pong. Either attackers would be at bay, or the field would separate enough for a break. The latter happened, thankfully. It was seven of us to start. After the next KOW, which I happened to take (essentially sealing the KOW win), I took a huge pull. I felt the pace wasn't quite elevated enough and needed to at least feel like I had a strong gap. I'm guessing it was around a mile. I think we only lost one guy through that section. But over the next couple laps it was down to 4. I wanted to press steady through the hills, but the break was lagging a bit. We regrouped and were at 2 to go. Nothing interesting happened until after the 1 to go bell. On the downhill, our 4th man dropped. I later discovered his chain popped off and he was unable to reset it without stopping (a feeling of which I am all too aware). He easily held to take 4th place though, so that was a silver lining, as he deserved it.

The last lap I took the KOW and tried to keep the intensity up. The two Zipcar guys were not as keen on the constant rotating paceline and we settled into a 15-25sec pull scenario. I got anxious here and took the pull because the pace was lagging slightly (and we had no information on our gap). I also was comfortable being at the steady effort and didn't want to sit up and "get cold"...or allow my fellow riders to get rested. We came into the hills and I elevated the tempo. One Zipcar guy dropped and said "Take it" to his teammate. I thought one thing, "Good luck, bud". I wasn't cocky, I was just feeling great and unless this guy was seriously pulling a Lance-style Alpe D'Huez faux-tired then the likelihood of my winning was quite high.

After the two step climbs, he held tight with me through the false flat...I was hoping I'd be able to gap him. At least I had him breathing pretty good. But this was definitely not going to be as simple as I initially evaluated. Fair enough, I thought, he is a strong rider and he damn well better be going deep to win!! Through the false flat and up the last climb/feed zone he was right with me. After the climb he moved past me and I pulled behind him. This lasted two seconds, I knew I could hammer as hard as anyone dare challenge me for the last 1500m+. I attacked him without any hesitation. A gap opened and it was pretty clear I had it in the bag because I was still feeling strong. Secretly I wanted him to surge up and fight me, but alas you can't always get what you want.

I rode out the rest pretty hard and won by a clean margin. My first serious solo finish since a little over a year ago at Bristol Mountain RR.

Low-res image grabbed from my Dad's cell phone video.

I'm pleased with the results, but let down by the field size. Doesn't do as much for upgrade points as I had planned on 10 points today. Regardless it was a great day of racing despite the cold/rain and I felt great. So I'm happy.

Also: big shout out to Eliot Pitney, fellow Base36 teammate, who took the W in the Cat 5 race (and should be racing alongside myself...or at least out Cat 4 contingent!). Also, well done to Steve & Liam in the 4's. Definitely happy everyone stayed safe with the given weather conditions.

The Run For Glory - Part II (Maine Edition)

A brief background: January 26th (Thursday) was my 23rd birthday. Last year, I ran 22 miles to celebrate my birthday...a tradition that I have no intention to cease! As the route of the Run For Glory Part I - RFG I - Tyler Socash made a spectacular running route that was a Tour De Rochester.

The Route: RFG II. The primary destination for this run is my Mom's grave, in Temple Beth El cemetery in Portland...11.23 miles in the most direct route by foot. I would say this is pretty amazing, considering I thought of the destination a month in advance and clicked Point A (Home) and Point B (Cemetery) and got almost exactly half of 23 miles. Pretty much perfect, I would say. But, if you look at last year's route you will quickly learn that the RFG route is comprised of as many possible destinations within the given distance. I was able to fit in nearly 10 checkpoints of importance within the 23 mile jaunt that was based off of a single  destination.

Once again I dedicate this run to both my Dad and Mom. My Dad's determination and ability to remain as positive he has over the past year is moving well beyond simply being inspirational. He prevailed in a fight that brought him to some very, very grave situations on multiple accounts. This year's route is a tribute to my Mom, Deb, who passed away in 2008 of lung cancer in a battle that was two days short of the longest and shortest year of my life.

:::::The Run For Glory - Part II:::::

The preparations: Yet again, I had no intention to stop the entirety of the run. With my Dad in the hospital recently, training took a backseat and actually helped me prepare and rest a bit better for the run than I otherwise would have. I drove home Wednesday from being down in Boston with my Dad, ate a simple pasta dinner and relaxed to watching Fight Club, a classic. I couldn't sleep too great but got to bed at 1AM and woke up at 8:15 for the 11:00AM departure. I went downstairs and fed the dogs, getting breakfast (toast/PB/banana) ready, and staying relaxed. My first birthday present came unsuspected! My dog peed on the floor shortly after eating...a sign that today's run was going to blow, or that I was getting the rough stuff out of the way. I ate breakfast while cleaning up the mess, in order to neither sacrifice my eating plan nor the floor of my kitchen!

I showered and got a little stretch/rolling of the ITB in and took about four more than expected, but extremely necessary, pre-run weight drops that could have hit me hard about 10-15 miles in. I aimlessly hung around situating what I would be wearing (it was going to be a heat-wave, 34F with some wind - but wind above 30F has only slight effect), and getting my nutrition set. This was my first run ever that I would be taking in a legitimate amount of fluids and calories, I had done it many times cycling and was not very concerned with adverse effects. I then talked to my sister a bit online, as it was almost 5PM for her.

At 10:15 I grabbed my Generation UCAN pre run mix and had that while I picked up Owen Lisa at Maine Running Co in Portland, where he would accompany me for the first 8-10 miles.

Back home with Owen at 10:45. I changed up into gear, filled a pocket with nutrition, and hit the bathroom one last time. Asked my brother to drop a bottle of water, Shot Blocks, and a GU at the cemetery...then it was go time.

The Departure: In the same fashion as I have hundreds, or even thousands, of times before I left the garage bay at 12 Coveside for pretty much just another run. This one is definitely the most special run I've had from home, by both inner meaning and the physical undertaking.

The Plan: As I just happened to finish the 22 miler last year in exactly 2:50:00 (unintentional, I hit the button and looked down and was quite surprised), my goal is to run my birthday in 2:50:00...until I get a 2:50 Marathon. This would require a pace of 7:23.5/mi, definitely doable after I already did 19.5 @ 7:16. Because the route I made ended up as a planned 23.36mi, that would

Mile 1: (7:08) Both Owen and I were well aware that a pace of 7:23 would be more than manageable for my 23.6 miles, so there was no stressing at all over starting pace. We both had Garmins on, which made monitoring the pace pretty simple. Out from Coveside and South on RT88. At a half mile we were moving just above 7:00, and we chatted briefly about it being a fast start. I felt totally relaxed (even though the run was only 1/47th completed). We hit the 1 mile mark that I knew all too well in a pace that was notably faster than my A goal. [Start: Cumberland]

Mile 2: (7:04) Hit this one quick as well, and Owen suggested we back off - smart man! We did, but the next mile was very downhill and I was sure we'd have a fast one with little effort. [Cumberland - Falmouth]

Mile 3: (7:03) Downhill, but really easy from backing off. Really nice feeling nothing effort-wise from hitting near 7-flat.

Mile 4: (7:16) This mile was one of the hardest of the run, geographically. Uphill 3-3.5 and 3.75-4. Still held 7:16 without trying to push. Nice to know that early on things were clipping off so easily (B Goal was 7:23 pace).

Mile 5: (7:14) Thanks to my good friend, Coreen, I had a bottle of water waiting for me at mile 19 or so, which is also mile 4 and change. I already felt weirdly parched, likely due to the slight sore throat I had that morning and the dry air. Owen kindly ran ahead, snagged the bottle, and I got 4oz in or so...enough to keep the sore throat from bothering me. It also set me up really well to take in a gel (GU Roctane). Owen said

Half hour. Take in anything yet?". I hadn't, and this guy knows fueling DAMN well - he lays down a 9:02 Ironman and closes in a 3:15 Marathon (including walks + bathroom) which was our current pace. The Roctane went down easily, and from there I committed to taking something in approximately every 30min. Once we had already developed a "big" cushion, even on 7:16 pace. We really made a solid effort to hold it right around that level; 7:15 was the 'plan' for the next 5-10 miles.

Mile 6: (7:18) Sooo...there was a box-spring on the running path on Tukey's Bridge (connection of Falmouth to Portland). We saw something up ahead and were confused. Owen, once again as the great companion he is, surged ahead to lean it against the railing so I could go through in stride. It was a surprising thing to 'run' into, which made us wonder how the hell it got there. Now in Portland! [Falmouth - Portland]

Mile 7: (7:14) Good ol' Veranda Street. Nothing difficult, but it has this little kicker of a hill that always bugs me when I ride into the Sat AM Group Ride out of CycleMania. After I muttered something about this, Owen and I started trying to figure out where I would hit some hills. We thought pretty darn hard, and didn't come up with all that much. Noting the fact that we struggled to figure out what hills I would hit, we laughed at how flat of a route I would be taking (I didn't go out of the way at all to map an "easy" route. I had one destination, and it was going to be pretty much an A to B run).

Mile 8: (7:14) Nick met us on his way from Maine Running Company (MRC) - where we both work - on the Boulevard. For those not local, the boulevard/Back Cove is a classic running area in Portland and I'm glad I could make it part of my run. As we navigated the puddles that were basically nasty clay water, I took in another Roctane - which Nick kindly brought me...free of charge. I told him if I missed my goal time he'd be seeing cash come his way. I had the gel and some water he brought for me, and he was nice enough to hold the bottle while I wasn't drinking.

Mile 9: (7:26) "Holy crap that was slow!" - and my original goal pace was 7:23, it was solidified that 7:16 would be my bare minimum expectation now. This mile had a hill none of us were expecting: from 8-9 it was literally constant uphill, a gain of 100ft on side roads that had sub-optimal footing. Nothing crazy, but definitely a legitimate one for this route. This mile cruised very closely by my Aunt and Uncle's house, a very close friend's old house whose mom passed away from cancer as well, and by a property my mom sold while a real estate agent.

Mile 10: (7:05) Owen's last mile, got some good downhill after the last one and things moved very smoothly...despite crossing Brighton Ave between a few cars. We hit Stevens Ave in good stride and Owen bid us adieu, wishing me a good second half to the run. As I mentioned Owen is a 9:02 Ironman and an article just came out about him in the Forecaster <---Check it out! I took another GU Roctane once Owen departed and had some of the water Nick was carrying for me.

Mile 11: (7:04) Nick and I were cruising along, pulling out seemingly effortless splits. I will be honest that I didn't know the level of fitness Nick would be in, and wasn't sure if he'd be joining for just a few miles or 5+. This ended up working out well for him as running with me was going to be his last real work before the Mid Winter Classic 10 Miler. His plan is to go 65-70min, but after putting in two miles of near 7-flat pace and being completely conversational...he's going to be pushing the 65 minute time, no doubt there. At this point we were onto Congress St and headed towards the primary destination, Temple Beth El Cemetery. Nick and I ran the snow-ridden sidewalks uphill without losing any real time on this mile.

Mile 12: (7:09) The entire purpose for this route. It is a place that you never really 'want' to go, but a place to which you will never really hesitate going. There are many, many things that remind me so well of my Mom and so it is extremely easy to remember and smile or laugh. Regardless, there is something different about the proximity of being close to someone. I guess that is precisely why we have cemeteries; it’s really that simple...you just don’t recognize it until that sort of scenario comes your way. We ran into the cemetery and turned to the right around the circle that encompasses most of the graves. Halfway up the right side I stopped and looked in just above the bushes that are along the same line as my Mom, trying to best estimate where to go in the snow covered flat. In this cemetery there are no headstones, but plaques, so in winter it is difficult to pinpoint where the actual plaque is. Fortunately, a memento my grandparents left on my Mom’s birthday was peeking out of the snow and easily showed me the exact spot to where I was headed.

Let me digress and add that there is not just the significance of my Mother’s resting place, but immediately next to her is the plaque that marks both my Dad’s father (Hy) and his twin (Sam, my Dad’s uncle). My Dad’s father had esophageal cancer in the early 1980’s and survived an extremely low survival procedure, something around 5% at the time. He was deemed cured, as he had many years of being cancer-free thereafter. Nearly a decade later he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, which eventually claimed his life. I have some recollection of my grandfather, but sadly I was too young to really have known him well. As for my grandfather’s twin, he is not actually buried in the Temple Beth El Cemetery but has his name on the plaque for he lived much of his life in Portland. Finally, next to my Mom and on the same plaque is a plot for my Dad, a plot that he very nearly came to meet on multiple accounts within the last year. He was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia on December 28, 2010. There were some very grave times between his diagnosis and his eventual, and thus far very successful, bone marrow transplant during which the focus became the next few days versus figuring out things over the next few months. In similar fashion as his father, my Dad has battled very strongly and is doing extremely well with no current signs of cancer from both his blood and his bone marrow.

Here I was standing in the path in the cemetery facing my Mom, my grandfather, and his twin. I slowly and silently walked through the snow towards my Mom, just as I have done so many times before. I turned to where the plaque would lie underneath the snow and as I began to crouch down I could see a small hole melted through the snow. Through that hole I could see the dark, rippled metal of a plaque. From where I was standing, I knew without a doubt that it was my Mom’s plaque. I kneeled down in the snow and was completely calm and seemingly silent despite being halfway through the 23 miles at a pace I had no intent of running at from the getgo. For those few moments I felt detached from myself and had no sense of fatigue or tiredness whatsoever. After reflecting and paying my respects I kissed my hand and pressed it to the cold steel, stayed kneeled for a moment, and once again walked silently away from my Mom in the same fashion as I walked through the snow.

After returning to the path Nick and I searched for and found the nutrition my brother had left for me minutes earlier: shot blocks, a GU, and water. We continued the run by completing the circle around the cemetery; Nick said to me that it was great that I included visiting my Mom in this run, but since the moment I thought of a route this was the only way I could have imagined it happening. We exited the cemetery and I realized that I felt extremely fresh and both physically and emotionally energized, when stopping mid-run usually causes more discomfort than relaxation. It’s pretty amazing what a simple thought or uplifting experience can do for you.

Mile 13: (7:16) Back down Congress St to Stevens Ave, we continued at a comfortable pace. I took in another GU (Espresso Love) and slugged some more water. I still didn’t feel any need to get in calories, but was well aware of the benefit it would provide within an hour’s time. After the silence that ensued from the visit to the cemetery, we began to chat again…mainly about cycling and how Nick is shocked that with my body type I manage to run as well as I do. He told me I should really have a go at track cycling, which I think would be an absolute blast.

Mile 14: (7:15) From Stevens Ave to Noyes St. Along Brighton Ave we ran by Brighton Medical Center (part of Maine Med), where my Mom had many scans done during her battle with lung cancer. I had also been in this very building quite recently; Maine Med’s orthopedics division is here and I had met my doctor during the recovery from my broken clavicle, which made the preparation for this run much more difficult than it would have otherwise been. Just towards the end of this mile we were cruising along the downhill that was the uphill that caused our slow 9^th Mile, and there was a train coming through that was blocking the way. I cursed it at first sight and Nick asked what was wrong…I pointed ahead and he said “what are we going to do?” my retort was “Well, we sure as hell aren’t going to stop running.” We kept our stride heading towards the train and when we were less than 50 meters from impact I let out a sigh of relief and literally jumped for joy at the unbelievable coincidence that was gracing us. We did not let up one bit as the train fully passed the street. I wasn’t sure what the delay would be for the crossbeams to lift (there was also one blocking the sidewalk). As we were 10-15 feet away it began to lift and passing under it, I reached up mid-stride and tapped the beam with my hand, laughing about how crazy the situation was. I have been stopped many times due to train crossings, and the one time I really really did not want to be interrupted – it was perfect timing.

Mile 15: (7:15) When creating this route I was trying to find places of significance to make as checkpoints. And with the primary destination being 11.25 miles away from my house, I didn’t have all that much flexibility. I knew my parents had lived in Portland in their first house together, but wasn’t sure where, so I asked my Dad what the address was: 101 Dartmouth Street. It was barely out of the way from my out/back to the cemetery and I’d be able to add it in without extending much past 23 miles. When mapping it out, I saw there was both Devonshire and Noyes streets (my little sister’s middle name is Devon, and my Mom’s maiden name is Noyes). This happened to be pure coincidence, but I couldn’t leave either out. We ran past Devonshire and Noyes, turned right onto Deering Ave (my Dad went to Deering High School), and a left onto Dartmouth. (Note: Google maps is great, but the numbers of addresses are not always correct!) We had to go one extra street in order to pass by 101 Dartmouth, and continued to Forest Ave in order to reach my final destination of importance, University of Southern Maine, which is where my Mom spent some of her college time. This little continuation resulted in why the total distance ended up as 23.60 and not 23.36. We hit the next side street that would lead us to USM, went through the parking lot, took a flight of stairs in full stride, and crossed through the campus to Bedford Street. Hitting the flight of stairs so quickly was a shock to my quads, and suddenly I felt noticeable fatigue and tension in my muscles. It was bound to happen eventually, but the stairs were a big trigger (we could have taken a ramp instead, but stairs are too much fun to take at 7-flat pace).

Mile 16: (6:59) At exactly the connection to Baxter Boulevard and the “beep” that indicated Lap (Mile) 15 was complete – thanks to my Garmin 310XT auto-lap at every mile. Nick wished me luck with the final third of my run as he continued straight around the Boulevard to MRC – the end point for all my companions on this run. As he moved along I yelled to remind him to text my Dad and update him on the run’s progress: if you’ve been keeping up with my blog you will know my Dad was in the hospital on my birthday, recovering and improving from his short stint there. Nick said he would and we split, taking the Boulevard from opposite sides. I was going to finish out the last 8.6 miles completely alone, but was more than okay with that fact. I actually wanted to finish it out solo this year, it felt more ‘right’ this time around. I must note that having Mike and Tyle close out the last 5+ and 1.5 miles, respectively, was a great way to end my 22 miles last year. But this year I had more confidence in the distance, despite being only 7 weeks into being back to running after taking the fall off and recovering from my clavicle. At mile 15.5 I took my first shot block (of 6), recalling that Owen found it very convenient and helpful to take one block per mile when running. I knew my stomach could handle it with ease…and when given such a luxury you do one thing, eat as damn often as you can because your body will use it.

Mile 17: (7:05) Surprised at how quickly I ran my first mile alone (which was on the nasty, wet, loose clay that the cinder-like surface becomes when wet) I made an effort to keep the reins in tight. I knew I would be able to close quickly if I felt like I wanted to, but I was starting to feel a growing fatigue from the previous 16 miles of brisk running. I had been going at a pace I had never held for more than 14 miles, even when I was at Rochester doing XC. Now I was a cyclist with a habit of liking running far too much to leave it anywhere in the rearview mirror. I took my next block at 16.5, it quickly became something I looked forward to (they just taste so darn good!).

Mile 18: (7:01) I realized what had happened. My body had locked itself into a 7:00-7:05 pace regardless of trying to actively back off. While this doesn’t hold a candle to Nick Roosa’s 2011 NYC Marathon I felt a percentage of what he did, in which he wrote:

"Yet the strangest thing happened: In spite of my decision [to give up and stop running - around mile 20], my legs kept turning over, just as fast and just as painfully. I tried to quite but something somewhere far down beyond the layers of gratification, external senses, and rational thought, had taken control and wasn't going to let me stop it."

That, my friends, is running poetry. I mentally made an effort to slow the pace, to regain increased comfort, and to smoothly cruise home in what would still be under my optimal goal time. But nothing happened, everything continued the same; the pace didn’t slow, the fatigue didn’t increase or decrease, I just kept rolling along. Back across Tukey’s bridge and there were less than 6 miles remaining.

Mile 19: (7:01) Knowing the 5 mile mark from home, I recognized that the little add on at USM was going to make the run a total of right about 23.6 miles. Without any sort of calculation, I knew I would end up well under 2:50 for sure. The headwind that is always coming at me when I head North on RT 1 and RT 88 was becoming noticeable (or was it just simply fatigue that made the wind have more of an effect?). Either way, I had been grinding away at it since 15.5 and only began to notice it 3+ miles later. Second to last shot block down. At this point I really could care less about nutrition, but luckily I know well enough that if you keep putting in fuel your body recognizes this fact and will not be nearly as inclined to shut down in order to preserve its last reserves of glucose – creating the much feared ‘bonk’.

Mile 20: (7:03) The water Coreen had left me that morning was still on the side of Route 1, right where I left it after my swig shortly into mile 5. I picked up the bottle, but did not take the bar she had left me (I had 1 block left and 1 more GU Roctane, which would be sufficient). Turning onto RT 88 is a slight uphill, nothing bad by any means…but the damn thing always annoys me. This could be due to the fact that I enjoy the final sprint of the PVC Tuesday Night Ride, where I easily peak 40MPH on the sprint – taking every bit of benefit the hill offers. This is where I first put in a real effort to keep the pace going; if I could hold strong on the uphill then the long downhill would be effortless. I had put in a little effort to battle the wind the past 1.5-2 miles, but that mostly just started the steady increase of fatigue. Last block down after the hill, and I relaxed in attempt to drink most of my water. The downhill absolutely sucked, suddenly my quads were barking at me quite loud and I finally felt why downhills can crush any runner of any ability in a Marathon. The building fatigue had definitely been there the past few miles, but suddenly the underlying tiredness was alive and hating every step downhill. Adjustment: shorten stride, increase turnover (I am a miserably bad downhill runner)…result: no noted decrease in soreness.

Mile 21: (7:02) About .2 miles more downhill and then the hill that I figured would be the worst of the entire run, the reverse of mile 3 – where Owen and I backed way off in effort but still split a 7:03. I hit the uphill section and felt the need to open up my stride after the uncomfortable descent. My legs were still quite tired, but the painful soreness temporarily subsided as I surprised myself in taking the hill in under 7:10 pace. Once I topped the hill and settled back into pace, my heart rate was still recovering just a bit. I decided I would wait for the 2 miles to go mark to take my last gel. I knew I was basically home. 2.5 easy miles to go, I started to get a bit excited as I realized I was averaging about 7:10 and still had extra energy inside. Sure, my legs were pretty toast, but when you feel good on a long run there is only one internal desire: “Let’s close this thing, it’s time to play.” I held off the temptation for this last burst.

Mile 22: (7:04) I forced the last gel in, chugged the remaining water, and deposited them both in someone’s recycling bin. I might be 22 miles into a run, but I won’t just be littering…can’t sacrifice a 2 minute penalty! (And there was NO chance I would be coming back out to pick up my trash). At 21.6mi, I had exactly 2 miles to go. The lap split, I checked the total time…Boom! 2:37:20. I just ripped apart my 22 mile time by a whopping 12 minutes and 40 seconds!

Mile 23: (6:53) Now it was time to enjoy myself, which I had honestly been doing for the past few hours anyway…but for the real fun, closing strong and fast. I slowly sped up over this mile, testing how my quads would respond. Quads: tight, Hammys: tight, Calves: tight, IT Band: killer. Sounds about right since I hadn’t been training to go nearly this fast. The dirt covering the shoulder did not help much either and caused some minor traction issues that really pissed off my stabilizer muscles and ITBs. Clicked off a 6:53, I thought to myself “not bad but damn I can do a lot better than that!”

Mile 23.6: (3:45 – 6:12/mi pace) I started ramping it up, saw I was moving at 6:30, then 6:15, then 6:10. At 23.35 (exactly 400m from home) I noted the time: 2:46:30. I closed the 22 miler in a 1:30 quarter last year and had every intention to one-up myself. I closed the .25 in a crisp 1:25 (5:40 pace) and finished with a total time of 2:47:55 (technically 7:06.9 pace – my watch displayed 7:06 pace at the finish, see below). I was pretty damn pumped to see that I managed to hit such a good time for the distance and, had I continued, would have even split 24 miles in under 2:50! Looks like I’m ready for 2013…well, technically I won’t be doing a straight 24 mile run. Something a LOT more epic than just 24 miles is in the works. If you were on URXC, I expect you to know what I will be attempting for my 24^th birthday. If you weren’t, you’re in for a most pleasant surprise!

Please Note Guin in the background :)

My thoughts of the 23 miler this year were first the concern of completion, having not run at all this past fall and having broken my clavicle on November 15^th. The clavicle caused an initial setback and also a couple really bad pain flare-ups that actually had me questioning if I would even be able to physically run on my birthday (I would have walked the 23 miles if it came to that). Once I put in the 19.5 mile run and didn’t have any subsequent pain, I knew all was well…even my prospective goal of 2:50, which had been a massive concern. However, I committed myself to running 2:50 for every year until I run a sub-2:50 Marathon on my birthday. Seems easy enough, just be capable of running 15-20 seconds per mile faster every year for one additional mile. Being one year better in fitness and strength that really should – hypothetically – be no problem whatsoever. Thus far it has worked out fine, but going out solo for a 2:50 Marathon is going to be a big challenge; a challenge for which I will not be unprepared.

I know this report has become extremely long, but that’s what this year’s run has meant to me. Being at home, the route has so much more significance. And with my dad being in the hospital on that day, it has made me appreciate the health and fitness I currently have even more than ever. I have never taken anything for granted. And when it comes to athletics, I never had it easy (except maybe the beginning of freestyle skiing, thanks to my recklessness and lack of belief that I could actually get hurt in any way, shape, or form. Note: I never once got injured from skiing. Not once. I don’t know how and it’s absolutely crazy). I tried every event in indoor track with no pleasant result. Then I offered to run the mile on a whim as a sophomore – back when I had “Krankles”. Krankles was a clever combination of ‘Kroot’ and ‘Ankles’, created by my friend, Nic Lolar. Krankles are similar to kankles, but unique to me. The seniors on the team called me a fool for choosing to hop into the mile and claimed “I didn’t know what I was getting myself into”. I didn’t really care to listen, and somehow I really enjoyed the experience despite that horrible feeling when you run distance all-out for the first time: oxygen debt, misery, cramping, etc. My first hill workout ever, I locked up on the third (YES I did say #3) repeat of 10. It was ugly, my body rejected doing the work. Eventually, over a couple years, I was able to tear up an 11x800m workout on grass averaging 2:45. I went from stocky kid, to not-quite-so-stocky kid. My Krankles had slowly receded, until Coach Mazzurco told me my ankles were actually ankles at long last! That was actually a pretty big moment, when years of effort had finally paid off to the point that my body was changing itself.

Now my fitness puts to shame anything I had in high school (except my 800 to mile speed). Also, I am leaner, more fit, and more capable than I ever have been. I am ready to step it up to the next level (that one’s for you MRC crew) and look back at the end of the year seeing a different athlete in my own past.

As always, I want to give a few big shout outs:

First off, to my Dad: He has shown me how amazing and powerful one’s soul can battle. On multiple accounts he has been to hell and back and somehow gotten stronger with everything that is thrown at him, good or bad. He has also shown me that it is not always so simple as ‘fight fight fight’ like everyone wants to believe in the blissful ignorance that is so engrained in our society. Like it or not: This shit sucks and nothing is going to make it disappear. It might get better, it might go away in time. But you know what? It might not. The only thing you can do is rebound, bounce back better, fiercer, stronger than before. My Mom said it best, and my brother quoted it when speaking at her funeral: “This sucks…it sucks”. Sometimes that is as simple as it is; there are things that can completely take every last bit of energy out of someone no matter how strong he or she is. After the past couple weeks, my Dad just received an excellent report from Dana Farber regarding the kidney issues that hospitalized him for 10 days and kept him in the hospital through my birthday. I didn’t get to see my Dad on my birthday, but he knew how much this tribute of a run meant to me and I told him I would say hi to Mom for him. As far from him as I was, there was a great closeness that I felt.

To Owen Lisa for talking some sense into me when I had any sort of doubt in being able to complete the run, whether it was hitting my time goal or making the distance without destroying myself. On a few of the runs we had together, I expressed concern that I may have to ditch the 2:50 time goal because things were just not coming together. At one point he looked me dead in the eyes and said sternly, “you’re doing that 23 in 2:50, there is no alternative”. He snapped me out of my (very very rare) self-inflicted funk of doubt. That is exactly something I would tell myself, something I have told myself in hundreds of circumstances: only one option exists, and that is succeeding. Thanks for giving me a dose of reality.

Also, to Nick Ramharter, who gave me some great company in the middle miles of a long run that can seem to drag on forever. Nick has also dealt with some tough family health issues of late with his wife, but just a couple months later all is well and she is doing great! For miles 8-15, I dedicate a part to her continued health and to all that her family had to go through as it was completely worth it, thanks to her quick and full recovery. I was shocked to see we were coming up on 15 miles when it was about time for him to finish up and head back to the store. Nick is very experienced, both athletically and in life. And for that, his wisdom on both levels was a pleasure to hear about. If I have any bit the talent and commitment to training that he does when I am his age, I will consider that a big accomplishment.

I want to give a big shout out to my big bro, Jason. From having no athletic interest since high school soccer aside from his love of skiing, he began running this past spring and made some amazing progress – both physically and emotionally. He was far out of shape, when he was a solid 180 5’11” in high school. After hitting a lifetime high in weight he rebounded with intent to get it back together. His goal ended up being to run the Maine Half Marathon last fall. I thank him for putting a whole lot of trust in me for coaching him from running a few miles here and there, to doing the half. He absolutely hates running in the rain, and race day was as nasty and cold and wet as the fall gets. He sucked it up and worked his ass off to a 1:45:05 – 8:02/mi pace. When he and I ran a 13.1 long run earlier this summer it was 1:55 – 8:46/mi. He took off 10+ minutes (nearly 40 seconds per mile) in a few months’ time for just a half marathon. Also, he entered into the Boston Marathon with the Dana Farber Leukemia and Lymphoma Team, in support of our Dad.

Clearly, it is only logical who is next: my sister, LEXXXIIIIIII!, also known as "Alexis" (that's typically how I will address her, whether it be vocally or by message). First off, I miss you like hell but I know you're having a blast so I won't hate you for it. I want to note that (as I said in my last post) that my sister is currently abroad for a co-op in Lebanon, while all of the recent stuff has been going on with our Dad. She's a fighter and stuck it out so well and an inspiration to us all. I meessseeee you!

Penultimately, thanks to everyone for putting up with the massive delay of my run report and for all the prayers, wishes, and support you have given my Father and our family during the past couple weeks while my Dad was in the hospital in Boston. Once again, he has bounced back – feeling and looking better than ever.

And, lastly, a friend of one of my Dad’s close friends – a 69 year old man named Wally – is going in for a bone marrow transplant next week. Initially he had his doubts, but after much deliberation and many concerns being addressed he has decided that the best course of action is to go ahead with the bone marrow transplant. I had the pleasure of meeting Wally and his wife today when my Dad and I stopped by his room at Brigham and Women’s hospital this evening after my Dad’s appointments. So, if you would, send a positive thought Wally’s way, whether you believe in the potential benefit or not…because it can only help, and it feels good too.

Thanks to everyone in my life for making the past, very tumultuous year as good as it was and for sticking with the Kroots through yet another crisis. If it weren’t for all the great people we have in our lives, it wouldn’t have been so easy for my Dad (and all of us) to keep so positive through everything we have gone through and is undoubtedly in part responsible for why my Dad is still with us, because there is too much kindness and love and support to leave behind.

This was the poster my brother hung up in my Dad’s hospital room on Day 0 of his bone marrow transplant:

Game On

Be weary to take this as some of that New Year's resolution stuff. When I say "Game On", I mean it. The only asterisk here is that I will be almost 100% coaching myself for the time being...I am utilizing knowledge I've gained in training but also from some very intelligent people (read: Doug Welling) and friends who have decades of cycling under their belts. However, dictating my own workouts has fared extremely well in the past. I have been in a mostly constant state of improvement since I quit varsity Track/XC at Rochester in 2010. I had an excellent coach, Doug Welling as I have mentioned on many accounts, who prepped me unbelievably well for the PVC Double Loop - where I was planning on racking in a couple wins, some loot, and a great day with my teammate on Base-36 Cycling/Gorham Bike & Ski Race Team. I had to focus on just training alone once I broke my collarbone, and having a coach was not feasible at that time. But financially and situationally right now, dictating my own schedule is the best option at the moment. No telling what happens in the coming months though...

I know I will be able to continue to make big gains, because with simply training in an unstructured fashion with a broken collarbone I've gone from my FTP being in the mid-290W's when peaking for a race in November...to 301W on 12/15, and over 310W on Friday. The only "workouts" I have done cycling were those all out efforts and some technique work. Enough talking about the past.

My overall goals are to improve as quickly and effectively as I can in the next few months to be prepared to get a super early season upgrade to Category 3, and then come into The Tour of the Battenkill ("America's toughest 1-day race") in good form for such an early race. The big thing I'm awaiting is getting my SRM sent out and returned from Colorado so I have a fresh battery and wonderfully accurate data, until then I will likely do quality work on a CompuTrainer.

What I plan to build into over the next month (from pretty intent to rather strict) is as follows:

1. Exercise with a Purpose: Anyone who is not in a top tier of athletics will make noticeable gains from maintaining a good quantity of exercise. (Note: I gained about 6% on my FTP while doing almost all 'easy miles' with a broken collarbone...in about 1 month since the first 2 weeks of my fracture I was quite useless athletically).
   Bottom Line: So, here is the critical point in improving effectively. I'm working on building a structured repertoire of workouts that I will essentially be testing on myself "in the field". This isn't purely physically stimulating, it's exciting to make something and test it yourself, it's both sides of learning and benefiting from your own knowledge. Some of the stuff I am bouncing off and having friends try out as well.
2. Nutrition: I have a really good grasp on nutrition in general. The only things I can put good work into is reducing fat intake slightly to keep total of my calories from fat under 25% (during high volume base training, you can definitely put in over 30% calories from fat...but when working on weight loss - cut some, not a lot, of fat). Therefore I'm aiming for about 20% calories from fat. Once real workouts and strength training are back on (pending how the clavicle feels) I'm going to need to increase protein intake.
   From a 2 week period where I logged everything I ate and was pretty intent on training/eating for best results (not necessarily weight loss as it was mid-peak season), here's the data:
   Looking back - I'm pretty darn pleased: 57% Carbs, 18% Protein, 25% Fat. Quite well for that time of season.
   BL: Eliminate meats high in fat, increase micronutrients, and eat enough early in the day (night loading calories is a classic flaw of mine). And ditch the alcohol, aside from a drink or two per week - and only the good stuff!
3. Weight: to quote a Bible of Running (Once a Runner. If you haven't read it, go do it. Now. This post is of much less value of your time. Even if you don't like running.): "Gaunt is Beautiful". It is also a classic line by the Men of the URXC team, and seen on many t-shirts. But in realistic terms, weight is one of the ultimate maximization problems known to athletes...especially those who utilize numbers such as "watts per kilogram". All athletes who are serious (and almost any athlete at all) wants to lose weight. And almost all of these people will benefit from at least some weight loss (the rarities are those who naturally have excessively low body fat %age, are already at their optimum - ususally a professional, or people who need gains in muscle mass). I am none of these, and if anything - the opposite. I am naturally built strong, stocky, and the professional thing is clear haha. I could benefit from trimming down fat and losing some (but not a lot) upper body mass.
   BL: Lose weight steadily, and not too much. Maintain enough caloric intake to not sacrifice recovery from exercise.
   I'm not afraid to talk numbers: today I weighed in at 164.0lb at home. I plan to be under 150lb fairly (reasonably though!) soon. My current FTP is around 310W and gave me an estimated power to weight ratio @ FTP of 4.29 W/kg, which (according to cycling charts) matches up to the lower end of Category 2 cyclists. Now I just have to prove it where it counts, which is the only place it truly matters.
4. Core/Lifting: I need to kick these into gear once my shoulder feels the situation is viable.
   BL: Get after it. I know what to do, just doing it is the issue. The only category in which my motivation doesn't get me all jacked up to do it. Once I get in the groove it will move along better.

Other things I want to work on are more life related and also quite important:

1. Reading: I've never been much of a person who is into reading, but I've gone through phases. It's something I enjoy but don't put all that much time into because I'm bad at remaining still.
2. Learn Organic Chemistry: It's something I never took in college and always wanted to. Had I overloaded at the right time(s) I could have taken it without sacrificing too much. But being on a varsity team and overloading wasn't a pleasing thought. Could I have done it? Sure, but not at the sacrifice at enjoying myself. And I like the challenge of learning something thought to be so "difficult" on my own. It's exciting, kind of like building cycling workouts from scratch and seeing how they pan out. (Note: If anyone has a spare Organic Chem textbook...let me know! It'd be a massive help :p)
3. Sleep/Schedule: I will be working (hopefully full-time) in the near future...so I plan to get on a normal sleep schedule. With the training volume I plan to sustain, 5AM may become a relatively normal wake-up time. And with 14+ hours per week training alone, I like 8 hours...add work on top of that, and I'll have to be very efficient with my time scheduling. Bring on the challenge.
4. Pick Up a Hobby: Not sure where to go with this. But it will be a nice, pleasant time-filler.

Today it all begins: Nothing changes, but the focus is different...and thus everything is different, because mentality is everything (almost, haha). Go ahead and read the intro to Jack Daniel's Running Formula, it sums up athletic capacity quite well...and it applies to every aspect of life that has limiting factors and situational benefits.

I leave you with a quote from a phenomenal athlete: Mirinda Carfrae, 2010 Ironman World Champion, 2009 & 2011 Runner-up, 2005 ITU Long Course World Champion. And she's the fastest female Ironman runner out there. She's smart, strong, and whose bite rivals the level of Ali's bark. This quote is from an interview around the time of Ironman Kona 2011.

"You have to be willing to hurt to that next level. Yeah, there are people that go out there and say, you know, 'I'm just gonna go and do my best'. I think that those athletes are not ready to put everything on the line because they're scared; those athletes never win."