Pushing Through..and Finding that "Extra Gear"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On to my experience:

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

Natural Heal:
Pros:

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

Cons:

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

Surgery:

Pros:

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

Cons:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Life of a 'Professional Athlete' (ha)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My (New) Favorite Training Partner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next entry: TBD

Smart Training >> anyotherkindoftraining

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


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


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


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


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


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


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