Week 2: Actual Update: Growth and Learning

I figured I would hold off from posting my real update until Sunday was complete. A good, long ride...my first century of 2013. Luckily it was with a group, as yesterday's 82 miles was solo with a very solid 3 hour endurance block with +/- 1500ft that easily topped 20mph, not bad for February...I did this in May last year and my HR was 10 beats higher. Looks like the year is starting quite well!

Yesterday I rode with Adam Myerson, a long-time pro cyclist and very well known rider and 'ambassador' to the sport in the Northeast. Most of you in the cycling scene know of him as I did - tatted up, clever, 'cross guy, wins crits, gauge earring, Twitter-pro - until about two weeks ago. It's cool to ride with someone who you simply knew as "be near him on the last lap and you'll place". As one would expect, there's a hell of a lot more to him. He's been kind, patient, and happily introduced me to some gems of Tucson. We rode to the top of Lemmon, reminisced old training he did a decade ago with Dan Vaillancourt, and had the best chance encounter on a ride that I have ever had. Spending 3+ hours at a time on a bike with someone you didn't know one bit is probably the best way to get to know someone. I rode with him a bunch that past 2 weeks, but 6.5 hours yesterday was pretty awesome. 3.5 hours of absolutely miserable headwind that makes most people want to quit biking altogether. We were going under 15mph for the full 3.5 hours. A one hour climb where Adam taught me the the difference between being fast and being fast when it counts, hours into a ride/race/workout...all without the exchanging of a single word. He calls it Old Man Power. I call it 'painful glory'. Towards the end of the ride we talked training, coaching, and all the skills you need across the board. I had written the rest of this post prior to the ride - and the stress Adam put on communication and learning only strengthened how important those things are in sport and life.

Here's some shots from my longest duration ride ever - due to elevation and winds it wasn't my longest ride ever, but it was easily my best long ride ever. And it was only 50F in Arizona.

As Adam said: "No Girls Allowed"

Yeah. Wind.

Flavors of the Southwest!

Beer #1 of Tucson.

This marks the first 20+ hour week of 2013 as well. By this time last year I had (foolishly and unstructured-ly) put in 3 and just hit mini-burnout #1. Luckily, I am a year wiser and have guidance that is more intelligent than "raw excitement and fun". I'm also more involved in the process behind my training than I ever have been.

I'm happy about my fitness, there is no doubt about that. But what I am much more pleased with is my understanding, both of myself and my training.

Now for a little insight into "Growth and Learning":

My involvement in my training is greater this year - when I have a coach - than last year when I was 'coaching' myself. How does that make sense? Communication. Which is the first thing I would tell anyone is the first key to finding a coach. It doesn't matter if that person coached an Olympic medalist or what their credentials are if you don't have good communication! My second key is be involved. If you're new to a sport, this might just be listening and absorbing ("knowing the work") rather than simply "doing the work". If you've been involved in the sport, you should be learning the "why" of each workout, then the "how" of progress, then begin to understand "what" the specific gains of each workout, block, or period. Once you have the understanding down, the next big (huge) step is "feel". This is the concept of learning one's own body; if learning things is an endless process (answer: it is!), then learning your body is an endless process that yields exponentially more powerful results.

Just like life, sport is a continuum of growth and learning. And the more you grow and learn, the more powerful your knowledge becomes - especially because you are now able to share that knowledge!

Share your life, sport, joy, and knowledge. Not only will you benefit from growth and learning, but someone will benefit from your teaching.

Yours in Glory,

Travis

If you want a bit more to read about a pretty cool Pro athlete who also has one heck of a crazy busy life, check this out. Otherwise, see you next time!

(As an addition to my above statements: I stayed with a guy in Tennessee (Craig Evans - self dubbed "Endurance Daddy") who can only be described in a LOT of words: Husband, father of two, medical device manager (his job is massively demanding), local cycling ambassador,  owner of triathlon shop, and - oh yeah - Pro Triathlete. The night I spent at his house, I didn't see him until the morning, known as 5AM for him, because he got home at 1AM from work...in Cleveland! Due to this busy lifestyle, Craig's former coach, who I am sure is a great coach, couldn't relate to him and wasn't able to work with his schedule. Clearly, this led to a gap in communication. Once he was able to find a great coach who could also communicate on his level, great things happened. He got second at the World Championships in Offroad ITU Triathlon...to a guy named Conrad Stoltz. Communication led to growth and progress, led to a silver at Worlds. The coach that had this great communication just happens to be my coach as well and he's very skilled at communicating with a 20-something starting out and a busy father, who is professional in many things aside from sport. To see an adrenaline pumping video about Craig, his lifestyle, and season go here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LRU_Bzgygjw&feature=youtube_gdata_player)

Ultimate Cycling Food/Daily Snack - take your pick!

It's been a long hiatus. And how better to get back to it than by talking about food & cycling? You probably can think of a lot of ways, but you'll definitely enjoy this one.

One natural food bar that I absolutely love is PROBAR - if you haven't tried one, do it! They're an extremely tasty, well balanced, and energy-filled bar. I first saw this when Doug (a damn good coach of all endurance sports) and I were on a ride and he got one. A new recipe I found from Neil Bedzek's Homemade Cycling Bars is awesome and reminds me a lot of PROBARs but you get to eat the "batter" while you make them. They're an amazing bar for cycling, up to a moderate intensity. On a long, easy ride you could pretty much intake more Calories than you burn if you have enough of these with you...they're that good. I've been twisting it around a few different ways to test out different fat-carb-protein ratios. The base recipe binds so well that even in your sweaty back pocket (inside a plastic bag) it stays in a block!

So here it is - super easy to make GF/Vegan.

Binder - heat up in a pan until it starts to bubble, make sure you stir it consistently or it can burn/caramelize.
1 Cup sweetener (Agave Nectar, Honey, Maple Syrup, Brown Rice Syrup, or the 'financially efficient way' with Corn Syrup)
1/2 Cup Nut Butter (Almond, Peanut, Cashew, etc)

Dry Ingredients:
2 C Rolled Oats - not quick oats
2 C Cereal - I love Mesa Sunrise Cereal (GF) by Nature's Pride Organics
1/2 to 1 C of whatever mix-ins you desire (Raisins, Craisins, other dried fruit, Sunflower Seeds, Nuts, Chocolate Chips)
Salt for taste, if desired (or extra sodium if you sweat as heavy as I do)

Mix Dry Ingredients in a large bowl until evenly distributed...once that binder goes in the mixing isn't nearly as easy. Pour the hot binder over the dry ingredients and mix until everything is soaked up. Always, always (!!!) taste the 'batter': A) It's yummy and B) you can fine tune the mix-ins or add more binder before finishing. Once it's glorious, press into a 13x9 or large pan so it is 1 inch thick. It doesn't matter if you don't fill the whole pan, it's gooey enough that it won't spread once you form it. Toss it in the fridge for 30mins to solidify the binder and you have a glorious set of homemade bars for cycling or snack. I hope once I get my food processor back up and running I'll be able to get some dates finely ground up (a big part of PROBARs) and toss those in to top it off.

EDIT For Advanced Progress of bars, inspired but oncoming summer and warmer temperatures (3/10/2013): Recently I've been trialing these bars in a better "heat-friendly" form. I bake these on 350F for 10-15mins, just until the edges very slightly brown. You want the heat to bind them more strongly, but not make them brittle. There is a fine line here...especially when I start posting amended recipes where I reduce fat content in the bars. I botched a batch last week, and the were brittle enough that eating them with one hand while riding was doable but difficult - bumps knocked pieces loose :(...which is not fun when a piece could be 50-100kcal!!

Not enlarged to show texture - false advertising not necessary here.
(Test batch in the pan, ready to be cut into squares or simply eaten with a fork.)

My test recipe from last night (to be unveiled next week) was a huge hit at the SMR group ride this morning. Jeff, who in particular is tough to please with homemade stuff, was a big fan...that's how I know I really did it right.

Hope you enjoy! Feel free to post the variations you make that work best. I'll post a few variations of this recipe next week once I do more experimenting.

EDIT #2: Here's the "Nutrition Label" for 1/12 batch. A medium sized (I'd say 2.5"x3" bar). A BIG bar is 1/9 batch and is 3.25"x3.25". I have to go ride my bike now. 4.5 hours, 86 miles, and I will be bringing a BIG bar with me (and a PBJ sandwich and a sweet potato muffin). 200kcal/hour, kids.
Cost: Price per bar. Yes. they are ~$0.45 EACH. Beats a store bought item by, say 400%?

Tour of Washington County 2012 Stage Race Report

Stage Races: There are epic ones like Le Tour, Giro, Vuelta, ATOC, etc. Then there are the ones the rest of us call stage races, which are awesome in their own right...just don't think about any of the big ones when you're tired and sore on day 2 of 2! My first ever stage race was this past weekend, the Tour of Washington County (hereafter TOWC) in the towns of Smithsburg, Boonsboro, and Williamsport in Maryland. It was a 2 day set up of a Saturday Road Race (43mi) and Sunday TT (10mi) & Crit (20mi). All in all this is pretty short for a Category 3 stage race, but it made for a good first go at stage racing. As a 'kicker' and because I was making the 10+ hour trek, I added in the TOWC Kick-Off Criterium on Friday night in Hagerstown, MD - seen here.

Friday Night. Double fisting and in the 23lb of Ice Bath in order to prepare for the stage race ahead.  (Note: Don't try this before doing a stage race. Especially if you are under 21 - and I mean AGE, not RACE AGE!)

Road Race: Smithsburg
Friday tired me out a little, it was faster than expected to say the least...but it went well enough that it was worth it. Saturday came along and I headed to the race. I met Tim Durrin at Midas to get my car fixed while we raced. During warm-up I was on the phone with Midas and paid for the work order! The course was a rolling 6mi circuit, with some hills and one 'wall'-ish hill. As the race went on, it slowly and unknowingly beat my legs down...we tried some attacks and burnt those matches to no avail whatsoever - it stayed completely together. On the last lap I started to get pings (like many others I later discovered) and on the last wall - 2 miles to go - I got full hamstrings crap on the left side. I was able to sag the climb and survive, using the downhill to reposition. Coming into the finishing mile I was positioned top 10, gained a few slots and was 5th going into the last up-down before the finishing kicker/hill. This time it fully seized up. I was in third position, gaining on 1 & 2. I had to stop pedaling and use my right leg to downshift. I survived, edging out a gaining 4th place by a half wheel! Got the 4 second time bonus (note: this comes into HUGE play later on!!). Even more importantly, after the 14 points in 2 days I have officially rounded out my Category 2 upgrade. Time to hammer away on the TT and get a GC slot!

ICE BATH!! We emptied the hotel's ice machine. Baller status.

Time Trial: Boonsboro
First ever TT, second ever time on the TT bike (Thanks Ralph!!). First time in a speed suit (Thanks Jon) and first time with a TT helmet (Thanks Adam). I didn't realize it until the race started, but the rear brake was rubbing every time the frame flexed from standing/accelerating/climbing. I pushed it from my mind as best as I could and just hammered away. Legs were not happy, I couldn't get my HR to my 185 "sweet spot" that I hold steady for 20-30mins on breaks, but I was moving. I ended up 4th in the TT, 25 seconds out of first place.

The weekend's fuel of choice. Homemade no-bake granola bars!

Crit - 20 Miles 14 Miles: Williamsport
We didn't know the TT/GC status until we arrived. I was in third, 21 seconds out of first...and just 4 seconds out of 2nd. The two guys ahead of me were on the same team...not fun at all! The guy who was in 2nd place was the guy I edged out in the road race. Had I not held on with the cramp, I would be 12 seconds out of 2nd place GC - a near impossible feat to overcome. The time bonuses were 3-2-1 seconds @ 25%, 50%, 75% completion of race, and then 6-4-2 seconds at the finish. It was clear, I needed to crush this race and had no time to relax...I would be going all in for every single sprint. I could handle sprinting every 5 miles, thanks to my repetitive sprinting training. But the race was shortened to 14 miles due to an ugly crash in the masters race. Now I would be sprint every 5 laps, or 3.5 miles....on an uphill 150m drag. Uh ohhh. There was no alternative, so I stuck to the plan: 2nd place GC.


The race started. My legs were fried, my left hammy was toast, and the course was such that I couldn't avoid standing after turns and on the hill. This was going to be interesting, but I made my plan and if my hammy blew up and I pulled out...so be it. I came all this way to break legs, I wasn't leaving without it happening even if it meant breaking myself. The pack held together pretty much entirely (thank goodness!).


I must say that if you were in this race or watching, I raced this 100% textbook - I could not have positioned or raced barely any better (and I almost never say anything like this). I was ready and more willing to go deep than any other person in the race. I knew it, too. And I was on fire. Sprint 1: Positioning, excellent. Result, 2nd place. 2 seconds down, I'm now 2 seconds back and didn't see #334 or #332 in the mix (1st & 2nd place GC guys). Good. Sprint 2: Positioning, textbook again. I attempted to seated sprint this one in order to save my hamstrings/legs for the final 2 sprints. Seated I still pulled off 3rd place, gaining 1 second. Now I was 1 second down. Sprint 3: Decent positioning...5th wheel into a 120deg turn and people going on your inside is okay but not great. I went hard. I needed this one. I dug deep and got 2nd, sighing as I crossed the prime. I was not virtually in 2nd place GC. "All" I had to do was beat #334 on the final sprint. No cakewalk there. Last lap: I am burning all over. Worse than Friday, at least muscularly. I hold position and am 4th wheel. No sight of #334, I refused to look back. 2nd place was laying 0.7 miles ahead of me. Final turn! Some A-HOLE decides to dangerously cut inside of me (likely cause of that ugly masters crash). I couldn't crash now. I took the turn so wide I was riding the outside curb, with no draft and a 10m gap! I started my sprint, accelerating well considering the cumulative toll on my legs. I slipped into one guy's draft and was instantly out the other side. Only 1 man in front of me now...gaining, gaining, I needed more distance! The final turn killed it for me. I had 2nd bagged and would have had first given just a little more road (as the winner informed me). On this day I was okay with being second...but only because it pushed me into 2nd GC :p haha. I ended up placing in every sprint gaining a huge 9 seconds out of a maximum 15, something even I didn't know if I was capable of doing. I guess the toll of the heat and the stage race hit everyone.

If you're not first, you're last! At least I managed to split up the teammates.

It was an AWESOME experience. I am so pumped from this stage race I want another ASAP, but likely will be waiting until Green Mountain for it. Over the whole weekend (including Friday) I got 25 points, which is kind of crazy...as I planned on getting 11 in the races. I'll take it, and on Thursday I received my Cat 2 upgrade. Time to rock out with the big(ger) dogs! I have so so many people to thank that I will be doing a separate post to thank all of you! But still, THANKS - you know who you are.

Tour of Washington County 2012 Kick-Off Criterium (Cat 3/4) Race Report

This whole 'plan' was decided on Tuesday, I drove to DC to stay with my buddy Rob Thursday, and raced Friday through Sunday. Jeff suggested I add in the Kick-Off Crit on Friday because I was making the trip anyway. I was worried that this would take too much out of my legs for the weekend, but he advised me to trust the race to stay together and, if it did, go for the sprint. My drive to DC was miserable. I got stuck in traffic in NYC on midday Thursday for 2 hours, nearly running out of gas so I shut off my AC and was pouring sweat as I got fried in my car. In traffic an 18 wheeler kept rolling backwards as we were on a slight uphill...it very very nearly rolled right into my hood. Thankfully another 18 wheeler saw this and laid on his horn. Just when I had used up all the area of reversing towards the car behind me the driver decided it'd be a good time to put on his brakes. I was freaking out as there was absolutely nothing at all I could do to get out of his way, except back into the vehicle behind me! The drive took a miserable 12 hours (with water/pee breaks and gas). Luckily I brought all my food with me or it would have added even more time.


Arriving to the outskirts of DC at 8:45PM, I picked up Rob at work. We hit the grocery store (Rob has seriously gained some cooking capacity/knowledge since he's been in DC - I was pleased) and got home before 10PM. I had talked to someone through a friend about selling my Trek in DC, so I headed out on the 2 mile drive to sell it quick before eating dinner. I met Sam at his house. As we walked to his apartment - Trek in hand - I realized I locked my keys in my car. I called AAA ASAP. They said 40 minutes, which is reasonable. It took 95 minutes, which is excessively unreasonable. I had to call 3 extra times to figure out what the heck went wrong. This was my first ever bad experience with AAA...excellent timing, now I was going to eat dinner at midnight the night before my biggest ever weekend of bike racing (I am very specific about food/timing around cycling). I sold the bike and had some delicious dinner at Rob's (thanks Rob!!).

Fuel for the fire.

Friday comes along, the race at 6:30PM. I left Rob's at 3P to pick him up at work. DC traffic is hideous even during the day. The race was about 1.5 hours away from his apartment, so with traffic we were expecting a 5PM arrival time. Traffic was far worse and out ETA dropped back to 5:30PM, which was still comfortable for me. Until my car "broke down". Being in traffic and with the heat, my driver's front brake locked up. I didn't notice at first as we were in traffic, but as the traffic subsided it was immediately apparent that something was wrong...I couldn't exceed 25mph. Luckily I pulled over, because when I did the wheel well was smoking - tasty, black smoke. It tasted like brakes (not really, but it was nasty). I looked at the clock - 5:05 - and our ETA - 5:35. Making the race was going to be extremely tight!! Even if the director permitted me checking in after 6PM (registration usually closes at 30min before the race). I called my Dad to see what I should do (get towed to the race, then deal with the car later...or get towed to DC and bag the race). He said that as I had come all this way to race my bike, I should at least see about getting to the race. Basically I needed his OK so if I got Rob and I stranded in Hagerstown, then I could say it wasn't just me blindly wanting to race and nothing else. I called AAA (second time in 24 hours!) - they would be able to reach me for towing at 5:45 at latest. Uh oh...that means getting to the race at 6:15 - enough time to make it to the start line without a warm up (I was planning on warming up in the race anyway to save for the weekend). While on the phone with AAA I was talking to Rob - I told him we were likely bagging the race and just going to DC as there were no shops near Hagerstown that were open even after 6PM. I considered getting a taxi from the highway to the race...but then my car, with $$$$ of bikes was sitting on the side of the road. While on the phone with AAA I told them to cancel the call to Hagerstown and just bring me back to DC, I had officially mentally bailed 100% on the race, which was pretty crappy...there was just no way I was going to make it. Now, if I'm going into this much stupid detail about a race I didn't race that'd be weird, right? Right after I edited the AAA call to go to DC I turned on the car and prayed to whatever gods of cycling may or may not exist. I shifted into Drive and released the brake. The brake was not rubbing!! It had cooled off enough! I told AAA to cancel the entire call and that they would hopefully not be hearing back from me in 5 minutes. Rob asked "How are you going to use your brakes?". I told him I wasn't. Haha! I was going to use the E-Brake foot pedal and hold the Brake release lever to slow the car. Our ETA to the race was now 5:50. It was going to be tight even without traffic anymore. I kept distance from other cars and drove with the most efficiency I have ever in my life!


We made it to Hagerstown at 5:48. I ran to registration, got my bib, and ran back to the car. I changed up while Rob mixed up my bike racing cocktails, and was on my bike a little after 6:00. I ditched the idea of throwing on the GoPRO that Jamie @ GBS lent me...I needed to focus on the task and get my head into the race. I usually am emotionally prepared to race many hours before a race. Today, I had bagged the race just over 1 hour before the start time...and now 20 minutes before the race I had finally gotten into my place of Zen - saddled up on Slice of Life.


The crit course was PACKED! It was an event that was more populated than the Clam Fest here in Maine. People were cheering, out on restaurant patios, etc - it was going to be a fun race. Too bad I wasn't ready and had the stage race on my mind. Two laps of noodling around the course and m head was in it. I was ecstatic to be here and the car troubles and midnight dinner last night were a thing of an entirely different existence. I was in Hagerstown to race; nothing more, nothing less. I had a quick chat with Rob during my warm up as I traded out a half-empty bottle and kept 2 full bottles on the rig (gotta keep in the fluid for the weekend). One sprint on the finishing straightaway and a 2 minute steady effort and I was primed! We waited 50m from the start/finish for some weird reason. Then someone called my name to see if I was present...not sure why though. Then they started announcing riders' names. I realized I was getting a call up, woohoo! The top 12 ranked riders were called up, I think I was 8th or so out of ~100...not bad, but I definitely didn't come here to get 8th place!

0.8mi/1.3K. Races clockwise.
4 Right turns and the left-hand chicane into a quick steep pitch. Finish is just slightly uphill even though it says flat.

The race went off, the tempo was much faster than I expected as I had heard that New England crit racing outdoes most of the country. My first experience was to the contrary...we were hauling and there were pretty regular attacks. My plan was to sit in and let it stay together. I did my very best to not cover any moves, but when 4 guys started to get distance my instincts took over. I jumped the gap. We held only a lap or two. It was almost definitely going to stay together. "Good" I thought "Save it for the sprint". All was well until some guy went hard off the front at 8 to go. I took a short pull in the process to not disrupt the pack's chase. He had a good gap and not much was happening. Finally some people got anxious and it shrunk. We were Gruppo Compacto at 3 to go...yesssss it was playing out just as Jeff had hoped for me in order to save my legs for the weekend. Although the base effort was much higher than expected. 2 to go. On the last 2 corners a couple guys jump. I'm now second wheel and they're gaining. No choice but to close. With less than a mile to go I was going to blow my saved energy. I reeled it in by the start line and it was clear it'd be a tight group finish. On the back stretch I was 4th wheel, one guy paced it for about the past half lap and started to lag - reasonably so. I stayed alert and kept access to respond to anything at all, knowing a move had to happen. My legs and lungs were close to red-lined from staying up front after pulling back the attack only a minute before. It was the classic way Jeff describes a crit finish: if your lungs should feel like they're going to bleed, then you're in the right position...stay calm, it's supposed to feel like that. At this point you have two choices: give in to the intensity, burn, and give in to the idea that you can't sprint off of fiery legs and burning lungs...or trust in your fitness, training, and capabilities.


I heard a click 10-15 feet off my back to the right (we were lined up on the left side for the upcoming right turn in 300m). Before looking I knew it was a serious acceleration, so before looking for it I jumped, accelerating for a few seconds. I looked right and sure enough one guy (Luis) was blazing up the right side. Another acceleration and I was nearly on his wheel. Now it was seriously burning. If he laid down much more wattage I would be using my final sprint just to hold his wheel. The turn came and we hit it crazy fast, but smooth. The guys stood out of the turn and sprinted. Only one thing was clear at this point: hold that damn wheel and it's your express ticket to a win...nobody was going to be making moves past us before the final 90 degree turn to the 150m finish. There's only one thing I like more than a 400m drag race, and this was it: I knew everyone was going insanely deep just to be in it for the finish. Which meant sprinting off burning legs and out of breath. As we came into the turn (which had brick through the corner) my wheel bounced around - as expected - but held okay. Luis had a good 5-10m on me due to a better corner. I hammered, when you get a perfect gear into a sprint it is a beautiful thing...in this case it was also known as invincibility. Sometimes you don't even know when you're 1 inch from the line, other times you are pretty damn sure over 100m away. This was of the latter type. I was already gaining on Luis fast and had no concern of those behind me - it was up to me and the white line to settle this battle. I finished strong, accelerating or maintaining all the way through the line. With closing the gap just before the final lap and the way Luis attacked it was the most I've ever been cooked at the end of a crit. It was completely worth it.


It was apparently a big deal winning this race. The townspeople and the crowed were both awesome - totally into the race, and surprisingly excited to have been there! A couple people came up to me a little later and congratulated me. One guy asked if I had a pen, I said 'sorry I do not I was just in the bike race' and asked him why. He said for an autograph. I laughed and said "you're kidding me, right?". He was dead serious. He never did get a pen, luckily for him as he would've had some useless scribbles on his hat!


The podium presentation was awesome. They gave me a bottle of champagne to pop on the podium. The guy who ended up in second asked if the director had just given alcohol to a minor; I assured him that I was in fact 23 (both real age and racing age :p haha).

Cat 3/4 Podium. Perfectly timed picture by Rob!

This race was great all around. I finally raced somewhat "smart" for a crit and didn't blow myself up during the race. It's amazing how good of a finish you can have if you don't waste energy foolishly or uselessly. The awareness and preparedness I had for the final attack on the last half lap while red-lined definitely shows that I am gaining skills mentally when racing. All-around I'm very pleased about the race. And, don't worry, I saved the Champagne bottle! It's now hanging out next to the Witches' Cup Criterium trophy from 2011 (my very similar big win last summer).

The End of a Glorious Age

I knew it was going to happen as soon as I sat upon Slice of Life - my Giant TCR Advanced SL 2. My 2006 Trek Madone 5.2 was going to be a machine of the past. I considered keeping it around as a training bike, but the feel was so different I knew that training on it at all would inhibit my capacity on the new bike. So it was set aside and eventually up for sale. Last month, I sold the SRM that was my trusty training partner. Then I got really lucky. I was going down to DC to stay with my buddy Rob for a stage race in Maryland, and another friend down in DC knew someone who was looking for a bike! How about them apples! And it was the right size. So I eventually met with him last night and did the old money/bike switcheroo. It was nice to finally sell something I hadn't used, but I can honestly say it was a little sad to part with Lamia.

Not just because I spent so many hours riding, or the races I did (and the many during which I was so fortunate to actually cross that pretty white line first), or the people I met in the community. But the main reason I was saddened was because that chunk of well-aligned carbon fiber and efficient drivetrain was where I began to love cycling. Before Lamia cycling was much less a "sport" than "cross training", a method of maintaining fitness during my injuries as a runner. But all that changed on Lamia, which was intended as my entry into the world of triathlon in 2010. I fully decided that I was going to focus primarily on cycling just one year ago when I was living in Boston at my brother's apartment after graduating; in part due to my lack of spring swimming and in part due to my joy of cycling. And now - a year later - I am within striking distance of my Category 2 upgrade within less than 2 months of Category 3 racing.

I'm racing the Tour of Washington County, which was initially going to be a solo race with no one I knew. Luckily, Tim Durrin was easily convinced into racing with me this weekend. While we are both going to be racing for GC contention, it will be good to have a strong athlete with whom I am comfortable racing and in whose abilities I am confident. It's going to be a slugfest...especially because I'm throwing in a crit tonight on top of the stage race. Let's hope the body is recovered after last weekend! I'll find out in 7 hours' time.

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.

Battenkill 2012 Race Report

Battenkill 2012 Race Report: Travis Kroot, Category 4 (Yellow) - Pictures to be added as they surface!

Note: this is my individual race report - I hope to do a report that encompasses Jon's race and notes the excellent performances of all the other great Maine cyclists who took on the Battenkill. Likely to be placed on the Base-36 cycling blog. Stay tuned!

I will give a quick lead-in to this…I ambitiously signed up for Battenkill in December as a Category 3 while I was still Cat 4. I was hoping to get early season race points before Battenkill and upgrade. However, I was only able to manage hitting a couple pre-season crits and did get some good places (two firsts, a 5^th, and a 4^th). Nevertheless, they don’t count as upgrade points and the kind race directors of Battenkill switched me into the Cat 4 field. I was very excited to race Battenkill, regardless of the field I was in…it was going to be EPIC!

Race week was amongst us and Jon and I spent our last preparations for Battenkill doing “way too little” riding this past week. But we both had great legs today! We drove out Friday (yesterday) AM and got to Cambridge, NY before noon. Hit pre-reg and the (boring) expo, then headed off to pre-ride the first 15 miles of the course (including hill #1, Juniper). The hillier than expected sections before and after Juniper resulted in a slightly hard than intended day before race ride, but it was good to shake our one-day cobwebs out! We stretched out then drove the course and took very diligent notes on all aspects – not just the hills. After the drive we ate a sufficient but not at all spectacular meal at the Cambridge Hotel (it was good! Just with the Battenkill being so epic our expectations were rather high). Following dinner we settled into our respective places of rest and hit the hay.

Race Day: 100km, 62.25 miles, 3950ft +/- elevation gain/loss. 10 dirt sections totaling ~25% of the net mileage.

Boom baby!

We headed into the hustle and bustle of Cambridge at 8:30AM – 2500 cyclists and the spectators and volunteers that come with it shake up a little town/village like Cambridge. It was an EVENT. Not just a race. It was well run, beautiful, and epic. My race started at 11:00AM sharp, Jon’s at 1:50PM! He was going to be anxiously waiting around quite a while before his race…and I would pay my dues on the back end, excitedly awaiting his finish. I started my warm up, and after checking both my sets of wheels in my bike (gotta have extras in case of a flat) I had somehow altered my shifting and could not access the three large cogs on my cassette – BIG PROBLEM! The fellows at the Mavic support tent got it figured out, but I later discovered that my shifting was still shifty…but was OK for racing, it definitely made me nervous about shifting if it came down to a sprint (recalling my broken collarbone). I’m not sure how it got messed up because it was shifting beautifully on Friday’s pre-ride. Looks like I need to get bike mechanic skills ASAP. I got warmed up (20 mins nice and easy) saw the OA/CycleMania guys and we gave one another our regards for a safe and strong 100 kilometers. Then it was to line up at 10:50 and it was gametime.

The race started out easy (neutral 1K start) and stayed easy for a few miles. After mile 4 it picked up to get position for the covered bridge – turn @ mile 5.1 and bridge @ mile 5.3. Made it through in the top 10 and we were into the first dirt section @ mile 6.0. Everything was pretty relaxed for a while, I helped push the pace a little on the climb @ mile 8 or so to try to feel out the field…but nothing was happening yet. I was able to scout 3 of the guys who eventually were in the last group of 8 – so I had 50% of the strong guys marked. Juniper hill was nothing crazy, I led up over (seated in my 39-27) and pushed hard down the first bit of descent in effort to keep the early stragglers off. This is where I mark this race as a massive asterisk to anyone who wants to understand the Category 4 Battenkill. ***No one in this group would work together. It was a battle to get people to get out of their own way! As a reference, most of the Cat 4’s finished in 2:53 or so and we barely broke 3 hours. Not a HUGE time difference, but very surprising considering the strength the field showed from miles 40 and on.*** No one really made an effort to work the tempo and we were rejoined with a massive field (ugh). I stayed up front for most of the next sections to stay safe and waste some energy like I am so well known to do – oops. Rich Rd @ mile 14.6 was nice and clean and the dirt was good riding. Nothing interesting really happened for a long while, randomly coming off of a pull I found myself and another guy with a 15m gap. He kept rolling and we got a small gap. I was well aware he was not the type of guy I would even consider breaking with, but he was a nice guy and we took it easy and chatted it up for a bit. Through Feed Zone #1 @ mile 22.4 and we were caught by 23.0, which was nice because I was no longer stuck out front. I finished my bottle by mile 22 and switched my spare from my pocket into my cage – the ol’ self-sufficient feed zone.

Another few miles of easy riding and we came to Carney Cassidy @ mile 26.0, which is a dirt section with an early stiff climb and then another stiff section @ 27.2 (but neither were anything crazy – the group pretty much stayed intact until Wrights Rd and Meeting House Rd in the 45ish mile range). I crested the pavement section of Carney with some really solid pace and looked around, a few of us had separated the field slightly. Then I got blasted with a headwind over the crest. The guy on my wheel said, “That’s a bummer, had we not gotten hit with wind I would’ve made a go at it with you.” Agreed, sir…but alas we were stuck with the most frustrating race field with whom I had ever been placed. Miles 30-34 were once again easy-ish going (ate and drank here). Then @ mile 34.0 we hit Safford Rd, which was the most gravel covered climb so far and the descent was definitely a bit shaky – tight turns off camber, and not a great surface. Up over Safford we still had a group sized around 40 or so. Clearly, we had a lot of guys with a minimum of “good fitness”…but soon we would find out those who were “fit”! On the descent of Safford I gapped the group a little as I spaced out on the really sketchy turn on the descent…luckily I held tight and once the group rejoined one guy said “Man! You really crushed that and handled it well.” I quickly informed him that I was thankful the rear panel of my bibs were black rather than white (in a less formal and PC manner, of course).

Then @ mile 39.1 we hit Cheesecake Factory Rd – a really rough section of gravel road that had no “good” line you could take. Plus, we had started over-taking a lot of the earlier races’ stragglers and thus did not have much choice of line. A few of us took some hefty pulls here, but as Cheesecake was pretty darn flat nothing really happened…maybe we shed a couple guys who had poor handling or low confidence? 41.5 to 44 was easy, as the group once again did not want to work with each other and were awaiting the glory of Meeting House Rd!

Wrights Rd came along @ mile 44.6 and we were back on dirt – good dirt this time. Up the climb, probably the smoothest climb I had of the day in spite of my calves already experiencing pretty steady spasms! I was NOT AT ALL pleased at this fact and couldn’t figure out why this was happening. I shrugged it off and accepted that it was going to continue. If I had a full muscle cramp/seize, then I would consider it. Then came the most unexpected part of the race: after the small uphill on Wrights Rd the surface turned absolutely horrendous. I was not the least bit prepared – neither in skill nor mentally – for this section. It was very deep, very loose gravel and sand. Fishtailing was more common than line-holding and things got quite jittery. I actually was emotionally prepared to crash and then chase back onto the group right after. I have decent handling but this was something for the cyclocross and mountain bike guys! Every time I had to put effort into stabilization and pedaling simultaneously I was getting more and more calf and anterior tibialis spasms…I wasn’t sure how things were going to hold up but was committed to not letting anyone get away from me.

Through Wrights Rd without any issues and we were very quickly approaching Meeting House Rd, still with 40 men in tow. This is where my frustration with this group was released. We hit Meeting House @ mile 48.6. I sat 3^rd wheel to start the climb onto the dirt but very soon found myself on the front and laying down the hammer. I wanted to shed everyone I could without blowing myself up. It was time to create the separation: those who were prepared to win, and those who couldn’t. I worked it hard up the first part, then @ mile 49.5 it quickly kicks hard and I ramped right though it at pace. I didn’t look anywhere but forward and down. After a good time on the front another guy (Chris, a professional triathlete in ITU racing – yes, a PRO) took over and continued the dishing of the hurt. Once we crested Meeting House onto pavement I dropped back. There were about 8 guys in front of me so I looked back to find a place to settle in. There was one guy to my left…one to my right…and only one more behind me. We were officially down to 12 riders! I smiled at the notion that minutes before we had nearly four times as many riders in our group. J.

Shredding the field on the front...and clearly going very deep to do so. Just speaks that much more of the final group we had.

 The one thing I did not smile at was the spasms that had steadily developed over Meeting House Rd in my quads. Things were starting to go for some reason, even though I felt strong still. As long as no seizing happened in my calves or quads, I was all set. Spasms are completely manageable.

It was off to the races…finally we had a group who knew what the hell they were doing in a race! We HAMMERED downhill, blasting through and taking pulls. It was clear everyone in the group had no intent of anyone returning to our separated group of 12. From 51.5-54 it is very fast, then smooth until 56. Once it was pretty clear the riders behind us were completely shattered, the pace relaxed and the paceline SUCKED. Some guys would pull through then it would stop. This inconveniently kept happening for Chris – the pro tri guy. So I let him pull ahead of me, then I took his wheel and pulled through for him. I found myself stuck on the front. Clearly someone was messing up pretty seriously and sucking wheel…imagine if we all did that! We could have a group of 20 annoying wheelsuckers in no time as the shattered souls regained life upon rejoining the leader’s pack.

Next up: @ mile 56.1 – Stage road. The final test; a solid dirt hill that is pretty outright relentless 56 miles into a tough race. I knew my fitness was fine to stick this out no matter what. My quads had started to experience some serious spasms on the last part of Meeting House Rd and I didn’t know what unkind words they would be shouting at me as we hit Stage Rd. Frankly, I didn’t care – I’ll insert the classic “Shut up legs” here. Stage Rd hit the group hard. No one was too keen on pulling. One guy surged up the left and quickly changed his mind on attempting to lead the pack. I decided it was time to just go with the pack and not dictate the pace on a hill (finally, eh?!). Another guy (whom I later found out was a professional athlete) finally made his showing of strength. Mike started working Stage Rd pretty good – I asked him what his PowerTap was showing for Stage and he said we didn’t let up on 500W for it and pushed over 600W at some points, but “settled” into 550W or so. Settle was right! We only lost 3 or 4 of the group of 12 by the time we crested Stage Rd.

This was it. I (we) had long awaited to be in the small group of riders who would eventually make the go for the win and deserve the glory that one gets by finishing Battenkill in the lead pack. We were the top 5% of this field of 125. The previous 57.8 miles separated the men from the boys…but the last 4.4 miles would separate 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd…all the way through 8^th. I had no intent to be anything but #1 in spite of my legs wanting to give out for some reason. I still had strength, but for some reason things were giving out. Now was no time to be concerned with that though.

We hit the 5k, 4k, 3k. People stopped wanting to work, but there was still a little paceline going on – just not hard. I took one pull (which I planned to be my second to last pull) and awaited my next pull through to bring me up towards the front with 1500m to go. 1K is a HUGE point here – the road is completely close from 1K to go and we would have free use of the road, but no one would want to be nose into the wind. My pull never came. The group let up and I was STUCK! Last wheel – literally. I didn’t panic, I tried passing on the left, but the cones leading into the 1K to go were on our left and I was blocked on the right. 

After the road opened up @ 1K, I moved up left and was able to half tuck in, sharing 4^th wheel. The bulk of the group was sticking right to take the corner on the inside. I had planned this out, I was going to stay slightly left…and when the group swung fast around the right turn with 400m to go I would hold my line and slip into 2^nd or 3^rd wheel. However, Chris laid it down! With 550m to go he started pulling as if he would rip the cranks off of his bike. I am not exaggerating one bit. I WISHED I had been 2^nd wheel to him…I would be invincible. I shit you not, he ramped up the pace to something I had never experienced in a leadout, he was in full TT mode – going to the gutter with every last drop of gas his professionally tuned legs had (he can run a 14:13 5K). And here I was, stuck out in the wind, holding pace with him. I quickly decided I would be waiting on the sprint with the power he was putting out – he did not let up one bit.

Finally, with about 150-200m to go, Mike moved out from third wheel and started for the line. The guy on second wheel did not do a damn thing. I pulled up on Chris’ left and laid it down. I had already made my fatal mistake. I overgeared. I didn’t have the acceleration I should have – ESPECIALLY on a sprint of such a short distance. Part of it was my concern of the gearing slipping as my bike wasn’t shifting perfectly throughout the race – I had noticed the most issue in my smallest 3 cogs, conveniently the places where I would start and end my sprint! So I hit it, dropping everything I could – I was only hitting 80’s in rpm – but I passed Chris and it was clear to me with 50m to go I was not getting anything worse than second place. I wanted first. I needed first. I didn’t get it. Mike held out just enough and I just couldn’t get that last bit of top end acceleration due to the wear and tear of the Battenkill and my own two tactical errors. Mike had a killer sprint. He beat me in a sprint that I should have had and was very confident in well before the race started. He deserved that victory. Mike, well done…you got me!

Overall, I am extremely pleased with how the race went. I fought through cramps for the first time in my cycling career, traveled dirt sections that I didn't think were possibly navigable, and rode a beautiful race that is completely unparalleled in both uniqueness and epicness. My only regrets were the two lapses in execution that led to a second place finish: not being able to get a spot in the lead-out train and overgearing for the final sprint. My greatest pleasure was Meeting House Rd when I led the charge to churn a group of 40+ cyclists into a pack of 12.

I hadn't had dairy in about a week, but I couldn't pass on this delicious stuff (it was seriously REALLY good).

To say that it was just a race should be deemed illegal (if you've done it as you moved up the categories and are finally racing Cat 2 or PRO/1 - then you can treat it purely like a race...but you damn well better remember how amazing of an experience it was all the times you did it before!). To call it an event is reasonable. To call it purely epic and glorious is spot on. My greatest respects to everyone who dared put his or her wheel on the line, my regards to those whose races were shunted or faltered by flats and crashes, and my wishes to those who had injury to a speedy recovery! To the 20 or so winners of the individual races, amazing work - don't take your wins lightly. Only a couple times have I gone so deep in races. I have never had 7 other guys with me when going that deep. And I have never been so pleased with finishing second in my life - that is a massive tribute to the race and the racers. (If you know me well at all then you will understand how massive that is).

It looks like this will lead me into my Category 3 upgrade, then it's a quest to pick off some points before stage races - where I will seriously test the potential within myself to bring up the level once more. I couldn't possibly be looking forward to it one bit more.

While it was an amazing race, there is always work to be done and meters to be gained.

"Disappointment to a noble soul is what cold water is to burning metal; it strengthens, tempers, intensifies, but never destroys it."

Slice of Life. Officially Unveiled. (Post 2A of 3 post series)

So, I had this post completely written out. It was about 3 times as long...and went to post it via the mobile app today and it deleted most of the post.

Thus, I will have to completely re-write the post (~3 hours solid work) where I talk about the bike itself, the technology behind it, and the wonderful feel of riding it. This is now the "naming" post for my new bike, because that is the only part that was not cut off and deleted. Enjoy!!

I don't even know how to write this post. I've put so much time and effort into thinking about purchasing a bike that verbalizing the actual culmination of physically having and riding THE bike is difficult. All I can say is that I could not be one bit more pleased with going through on buying the bike. I had a couple points of "unsure-ness" along the way: 1) When I had my Madone tuned at Gorham Bike and it felt like a completely new bike. So good that I considered I might not actually need a new one - but then at the end of my first ride on it, a mechanical issue occurred that was inherent with the bike itself. This once again clarified how much of a step up getting a new bike would truly be. 2) When I first was on the new bike, it felt weird. The best analogy I can come up with is like an exponential form of how a first time customer at Maine Running Company feels when he or she wears an actual running shoe that is properly fit for the first time ever: it feels so different the individual is not sure it is 'right'. But as soon as he or she gets a few minutes on it or goes for the first run, it makes whatever they felt previous to this new shoe like a completely different activity than running.

This is what I felt once I had a few miles on the bike. It was a world of difference. But every single difference was a massive improvement. So much so that at first the bike even felt awkward to turn (I'm not kidding. My first turn out of the GBS parking lot onto Congress St was sketchy at best. I'm glad no one from the shop saw or they would think they just sold this beautiful bike to someone who struggled making a simple turn!)

Now to unveil the official name of my Giant TCR Advanced SL 2: Slice of Life. I was really set on naming my bike 'Dexter' because that was my (at first) humorous cycling/athletic alter-ego that began with the CompuTrainer workouts in December. However, I was calling myself Dexter and not my bike. My Trek was named "Lamia", Latin for 'witch', 'demon', or 'child-eater'. I named her on the way down to the 2011 Witches Cup, as my plan going into that race was to win it. It was a bold move (I don't think I told a soul about the name at first). Had I not won the race, the name of my bike would have been a constant reminder of failure. Had I won, it would have been a very fitting name. As for the 'child-eater' translation: I was a Category 4 cyclist, and was still not racing with the 'big boys'. Thus, with the bike, I was not taking down the MEN with her...I was taking down the kids who look up to the Cat 3's, 2's, and 1's (whom the 4's and 5's admire).

Slice of Life is a reference to Dexter the TV show. Dexter is a blood spatter analyst at a Miami police station, and just happens to be an assassin as well. Warning: Do not think I am going "off the deep end" or getting "dark and evil" with this name. It all started because about 5 years ago when my uncle and cousins pointed out that I look A LOT like Dexter in the show. Then friends in college picked up on it pretty quickly too. The pictures below are me from Halloween 2010.

Dexter only kills people who 'deserve' it by his father's standards and moral code, and only kills when he has complete proof of the victim's wrongdoing. His boat is named "Slice of Life", which is blatantly fitting for both his profession (blood spatter analyst) and his hobby (assassinating bad human beings). This late name-change from Dexter to Slice of Life (SoL) is because Dexter is the person and Slice of Life is the boat. Also, Slice of Life is fitting because it represents both a sliver and a huge part of my life. Cycling both breaks up and completes my day, nearly every day - as I just completed a half year of not missing a single day of cardio (including the period of having a broken clavicle!) As Dexter does his work on Slice of Life, I do mine. He typically disposes of his victims on his boat, while I plan to make my competitors (victims) suffer on my bike. So it all works out pretty darn well, and I can still be 'Dexter' without naming my bike Dexter as well. My bike is Slice of Life, a beautiful and stealthy Giant TCR Advanced SL 2, and I am the assassin that operates her as we take names and (hopefully!) kick asses.

Slice of Life. Hanging out at her favorite stomping grounds...Gorham Bike and Ski!

The scary part about investing thousands of dollars into anything, especially something you "already have" to some extent, is that you don't fully know that it would all be worth it until you get that feeling: the pure feeling of completeness and perfection. When I took my first ride on my new bike, at first I felt concern. The bike felt sweet(!!!) but not insanely awesome like I expected. Then I hit bumps in the road, exceeded 30MPH, took some corners hard, hung out in the drops, did a few sprints. It was literally an out of bike and out of body experience. I was feeling something 100% different than I was used to. I was feeling a true machine that was set just right for me. The combination of a top-end bike and a great fit finally melded with me. Last fall Jamie Wright (owner of Gorham Bike and Ski (AKA GBS), and fellow teammate on the Base-36/GBS squad) told me, "We have to get you on a 'real' bike." My response, "What's wrong with my bike [Trek Madone 5.2]?" He told me the difference in stiffness alone will amaze me and, almost more importantly, my competitors. I knew he was serious, as I now have the exact same bike that he has...and he's the owner of a bike shop with access to multiple brands and every tier of bike imaginable. Obviously I didn't get this bike because it was what he had, I got it because it is the absolute best and best for me and my purposes (argue about Shimano Di2 or Campy EPS all you want...then give me $5000+ so I can upgrade to that model and I will gladly shut up...maybe...because I love my new SRAM RED soo much! By the way: SRAM RED, my new component set, is post 3 of 3 in this series). Many of you might see an apparent "conflict of interest" as he is the bike shop owner of my team's sponsor and he's telling me a new bike will make a world of difference. Well, to all you haters out there, the bike is a world of difference...and as with any team at any (decent) bike shop we get some level of a discount on purchases. Thus, Jamie was 1) advising me as a friend 2) advising me as a teammate 3) making a smaller margin of profit on my purchase than other customers 4) I was pretty obviously going to buy my next bike from GBS regardless of what he said 5) he honestly wants me to have every single possible advantage of performance, comfort, and enjoyment in cycling because as teammates we feed off of each other's energy and successes. Example: when Jamie led out for me this past fall, he was the reason I won sprints...sometimes I barely even had to work to win sprints. Once, I took the final sprint of the Saturday Morning Ride (SMR) at the cookie jar with a sprint effort I would deem about 75%. That is absolutely nothing, especially for such a strong group of cyclists in such great late-season shape. Jamie just absolutely hammered out the pace into the sprint that no one had the ability to accelerate and challenge me for the sprint. This was no way a sign of my strength, it was a display of execution on his part. Do you believe me now? I would hope so, haha!

Our first real ride together. Beasting some 20% grades :).

All I can say is that Slice of Life is a beautiful machine and we will have many wonderful miles together as a team. The bike feels amazing and has already proven itself to produce some amazing results...I'll try to get back to work on my full-fledged post regarding no only how amazing of a bike it is, but why it is such an amazing machine.

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!