300 not on 100. How to jump into what you may not be ready for.

So, most of you know that I rode the #300noton100 ride with the very well known Ted King (TK) and Tim Johnson (TJ), and the lesser known but gloriously entertaining Ryan T Kelly (rTK)...where I remain as the unknown other TK. Much like my days at Rochester, where Tyler Kieft preceded me on the XC team.

The past iterations of the ride, 200mi rides in one day, have been growing in popularity and participation. This one was no different - a 2day/300mile party. I decided (late) that I was going to do the ride. Ted kindly offered to provide hotel shelter for anyone daring to do the full monty, which need be listed in bullet form due to high volume:

• Me 

So I was the lone ranger, hopping aboard with the well-acquainted three amigos. Fortunately, I knew Ryan from racing and have a few overlapping contacts with Ted. Tim, however, remained unknown to me aside from the guy who has won so many CX Nats I lost count....and is sponsored by Red Bull (thank goodness). I quickly knew I'd like Tim as he gave us the safety/etiquette chat @ D^2 Java, which was very kindly paid for by LOCO Cycling (thank goodness, again). I've never met a rider more dedicated to safe group riding and a mutual responsibility for keeping the road safe for all users. I bet VW is very happy to have him as a sponsored rider.

Another bonus was Andy Levine, Chad Jacobs, and Stephane Dumont of Duvine Adventures. Want an amazing luxury cycling trip? Do this. And no, Andy didn't pay me to say that...although he did provide much amusement to all except himself over the 300 miles!

Anyway, we took off from D^2 (not DD!!) with a hefty group, which slowly dwindled as we approached the Maine-NH line...where we saw A BRIDGE!!! If you'd like to LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF, open the link then immediately open in a second tab. Or click here then here. I rode 125 miles without putting my nose in the wind, which is about 10 times longer than I've ever done that. Well, except I took lead navigator through Portland...but bike paths at 15mph doesn't count as a pull. Speaking of Portland...SCRATCH BAKING CO. Go there. They are awesome and they love bikes too. And they support Healthy Kids Happy Kids (so should you)! Speaking of which, there was a massive gathering that met us at Scratch and more people joined on between Portland and Brunswick. After Bath it was just TK, TJ, rTK, Me, Andy, and Eliot Pitney (who joined at Scratch, went to Boothbay, then rode solo home to Brunswick).We say ANOTHER BRIDGE!

After 125mi: RED BULL (Thanks Tim Johnson fueled by Tim Johnson). Then I took 3 pulls...although I think Tim remembers only one as I recall him saying "You had a good pull there Travis." Maybe 2 were just that weak?

I hung out with our wicked cool support crew Chad & Stephane, met Lyne Bessette, and cleaned the $25,000 beauts of engineering prowess. 4 Cdale's and 1 awesome Giant.

Day 2: I'm a bit tired. Yesterday was my longest ride ever and despite barely doing any work...it was still tough. Luckily I took no chances on refueling. I likely gained a little weight Tuesday. But if it meant surviving Wednesday, then it was necessary. Wednesday started off hard - 1700ft in the first hour, and being warned by Tim "plan for the whole day" when I took some early pulls. The first couple felt GREAT, then my legs felt like they should have, so I smartened up and sat in.

This happened:

Then THIS, which was followed by more RED BULL then a double espresso after 600m of riding.

Poutine @ Duckfat

Lastly, this:

Old Man Sweat, AKA Bike Killer.

It was awesome to do the full event, and I definitely appreciate Tim, Ted, and Ryan for so happily having me partake in the journey. Next year I'll be in much better shape and very much hope to participate in the full once again...whatever crazy adventure arises. I was thoroughly impressed how long Andy held on, Ryan (an expert on acknowledging when a person cracks) estimated a minimum of 4 consecutive cracks on Day 2. An impressive number, to say the least. Andy held on with a valiant death grip and made it farther than anyone anticipated, chapeau!

I definitely learned a lot (mostly intellectual and not physical) on the ride and that was by far my biggest takeaway. Mostly how respectful Ted and Tim are, on and off the roads...and how friggen funny Ryan is when he cracks...or when bridges happen...

Here's the Teaser Video and Ted's Blog.

The Man Who Made Arizona Happen

You'd think that going to Arizona to train was simply a matter of having a little cash on hand, finding a cheap place to stay, and getting work to allow me to go. Those were the least of my concerns. The only thing that actually mattered was if everything at home would go okay while I was gone.

Short Answer: Not a chance.

Long Answer: Jason Kroot. He wouldn't let me not go. We got in an argument over Christmas, which resulted in me (edited) saying "I'm not going to Arizona, it can't work." He immediately stopped everything and told me that I would be going, even if it meant shipping me out there against my will (also possibly edited). Everyone told him that I needed to come back, especially because it came to be that we would be needing to put the house on the market a month earlier than planned - which essentially meant that I wouldn't be able to do a thing in preparation for listing (I'd say I got like 2-3% of the work in...if we're being generous).

So on top of his own work, running Northeastern Graphic Supply (with a huge amount happening up to and through the start of April), the dogs, my grandfather, training for the Boston Marathon, and fundraising over $8,000. By the way - if you haven't donated to him or Team Kroot's endeavors please visit his fundraiser page @ http://www.rundfmc.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=1039390&supid=253151052. Oh yeah, and having a life of his own. He's clearly been doing more than double his share in recent months...and I'm only divulging the half of it.

Anyone else I know of in the world (maybe 1 or 2 others might) would have folded as soon as March turned the corner...a mere 3 weeks after I left for AZ. However, he kept everything moving forward without my help for a whole other month. And, to boot, didn't want me coming back until I spent Easter in DC with Alexis, and our 'family'.

Now, I am known by many to have a pretty impressive tolerance for working hard when it comes to athletics. But what Jason has done makes me look like a wuss. I honestly have zero idea of how he survived intact and is still doing so much. He just ran the Boston Marathon in an INSANE time of 3:32:59. Last year he was 4:15:26. That's an improvement of over 42 minutes, something that most people will never even consider as a possibility. Fortunately he finished prior to the explosions and was well on his way to meeting us and his amazing fan crew (of which I am very proud - and jealous :p) when he heard the successive "boom"s. Instantly he knew it was something bad and thankfully continued straight to seeing us - we saw Jason before we heard reports of the explosions.

Final Mile! I was running like a freak trying to get ahead of him and snap a photo...and he said he was slowing up a bit. (Seriously my legs legitimately hurt today from the chase)

His normal routine would have been:

• Lots of hugs
• Quick chats
• Humbly receive congratulations on his amazing time
• Find out how other people did
• Hop into the Dana Farber team Recovery Zone for some serious massage and refueling

Yesterday it was:

• Lots of Hugs
• Hear the news
• Find out about everyone we knew
• Comfort other runners
• Comfort families who awaited their loved ones' arrivals (the DFMC team had 550 runners - most of whom do not run qualifying times...which put the bulk of the team behind the explosions)
• Grab a quick bite
• Make sure all his friends/supporters were set with their plans

The majority of the AWESOME Fan Base at Marathon Monday Home Base (The Yardhouse)

Then Jason tells Alexis to go back to her apartment so she can relax and tells me to stay close because he didn't want me getting near my car as it was near the course (in his loving concern - over a half mile was 'way too close'). I walked Alexis back when Jason went to recovery - well over an hour after his finish. At this point he was too tight to get any real benefit from massage...which meant getting out of the area was going to be a long limp to where we could find a taxi or get a ride. He refused to 'inconvenience' his friends and ask for a ride. So we slowly walked/hobbled a freezing cold mile (post-marathon and 75 degrees gets cold quickly...so 50's and windy is no good) until we found a place that was easily able to be reached by driving.

A year ago Jason was running in honor of Mom and support of Dad (and so many others). This year, it was sadly in honor of both. He got paired with a young cancer patient at Dana Farber, Colin, and ran in special support of this young fighter. Sadly, due to the events, Jason was unable to reunite with Colin after the race. Colin and his family were on their way over when the explosions happened, so they immediately left the city and headed home.

2012 Post-Marathon with our Dad

Jason and Colin Sunday night at the DFMC Dinner.
(photo from: Danielle Horn, Grafton Patch, http://grafton.patch.com)

A couple articles that Jason was mentioned in for his support of Colin: http://grafton.patch.com/articles/grafton-family-near-finish-line-when-bombs-explode &

http://thegraftonnews.com/blog/?p=2402

Battenkill Category 2 Race Report, BBS Style

Here's the race report you will see for BBS & our fans. Check out the squad at http://bostonbicycleschool.org/, things will be updated over the next week or two with team camp coming up woohoo! This was written on the trip home from Battenkill with Andrew, the mechanic/rider/driver manning the 'team car'.

First off, I’m pumped to be on BBS this year and to be authoring my first report. The crew for this venture to the infamous Battenkill was Andrew and myself (Travis). We learned that the Stan’s NoTubes team smartened up this year and is now riding Giant Bikes as well. The plot was going to be a “Northern Spring Classic” savage smashfest. The competition would be prepared and the field was pretty much as stacked as you can make a northeast 2 field. We drove over Friday morning and watched, with teary eyes, as our amazing roof-mounted bicycles became layered in 1/4 inch of ice. Yes. In April. Also, the roads were treacherous (33MPH on highway and a cornucopia of cars off the road) and so bad that if the weather was in Cambridge, NY like it was in Western NH it’d be a possible cancellation. Fortunately this was not the case, and it turned out to be well-packed dirt with some muddy parts and more potholes than desired.

He is quite a ways off the road. But was not close to alone.

In theory, this race was shaping up to be an “unleash BBS 2013 on the world”: Andrew is coming off a very impressive high-octane winter work ethic and I am coming off of solid Arizona base mileage. In reality, this was not the case as Andrew had a junk week thanks to a flared up left hamstrings tendon and I had trouble coming back from the 45 hours of driving from AZ & cleaning out my house to put on the market. We headed to Battenkill with knowledge it would not be optimal, but that we would rely on the previous months of work, and not the recent weeks of misfortune. This was capped off with 7 hours of driving and an extra hour of standing to clean our bikes that were properly thrashed by the elements on said drive.

The race: 83 miles, 6000ft, 20mi+ dirt (well…15 dirt & 4 mud & 1 potholes), 38F start temp. AKA Classic Battenkill. The race started off slowly and before we knew it a break had a 2:00 gap. On the field’s second turn up Juniper Swamp (600m, 18% max, dirt) an ambulance had to pass. We were neutralized for 10 minutes due to a nasty Pro/1 crash on a sweeping dirt descent. Shortly after resuming, the break had upwards of 3:00 which held for quite some time. The next 30 miles was a mix of dirt, rolling hills, and a couple solid climbs…all which slowly shimmed the 150-man field to under 100. There was an impressive moment where Andrew hit a deep pothole, got dangerously bucked, and somehow recovered. I was hoping A) he landed on grass and B) his fork didn’t shatter. Neither was the case, and his bike stayed happily together and wheels in perfect true. We caught fragments of the 12 or so man break, but 4 guys held it strong. By 55 miles both Andrew and I were confused at the leg cramps that were hitting us…we had trained well, but training only goes so far for an early race such as this. Coming into the two “selection” climbs – Meeting House Rd & Stage Rd, our field was still fairly large. Gaps, big gaps, started to open. Having course knowledge I was a bit better positioned for the first one than Andrew. I was in the first group and Andrew was quick to help bring the second group back up. Field status: 50. Into Stage Rd I had Andrew move up with me and we were well into the front half of the field. Note: since mile 40, Andrew’s tendon was really flared up and was heavily pedaling ‘righty’. This one slip up the right side sealed my fate. We both hit Stage Rd, completely locked up, and had an enlightening first experience of overcoming the leg cramps that plagued us earlier. Closing a couple big gaps I was able to make group 2. Hammering the descent and flat with 5K to go, my group merged with the leaders to make the final selection of 25. Andrew and Dean “the robot” Phillips worked to claw their group back in the final K’s. They would finish 30 seconds back and Andrew 4^th in the group into a 29^th place. Coming into the finish any punchy effort triggered cramps. I was able to grab 15^th place and $50 in the dodgy sprint finish.

The Bikes, Battenkilled. Or, in Andrew’s words, Batten-thrashed.

Andrew's Steed that survived a heavy blow.

Phoenix got a bit dirty on this gig.

It was a great kickoff for the Northeast racing season and a nice way to clear out the last 2 weeks of rubbish from our legs. Time to hit the reset button, recover, enjoy our team camp, and get ready Tour of Dragons. Can’t wait to spend next weekend in Beantown with Boys looking forward to the months ahead.

Tuscon Bike Classic: Multi-Level Sufferfest

Early season races are always a thing of interest in the world of the athlete: from the borderline-recreational amateurs in the fast local group ride to the WorldTour Pro at Tour Down Under...and every one of us in between.

It gets more interesting when your race is at a point you are supposed to not yet be at race fitness levels, something you desire weeks or months down the road. I, like all of you back in Maine, are not in race season fitness and don't expect to be cleaning house...yet!! However, these guys and gals in Tucson are in the middle of their season and flying. I first experienced this when I got crushed on the Saturday Shootout ride. I experienced it again the weekend before TBC at a crit, where I did not have the sprint legs I thought I "should" have against other Cat 2 & 3 riders.

Here's a sweet shot from a crit two weekends ago. (No pics from the stage race yet...)

Breaking in Phoenix for her first couple races. 2 crits, spent some time off the front but didn't get anything good for results. Good thing is she got very ready for the stage race! ...still need to cut all that extra stem...

Nevertheless, TBC was an early season stage race - only my second ever - and my first real 'test' since a power test prior to my departure to Tucson. I would have my first race on my new, pretty TT bike, my first 'big time' road race (80 miles), and my first complete stage race. (My first stage race was 3 stages crammed into 2 days, and the RR was 45mi with the crit being about 14mi).

One of my goals for 2013 is "No Goals": to not focus on a singular end result, but to focus on small things that lead to big things. This was first introduced to me in its raw power by my Track coach @ NYA, Coach Mazzurco - a man I still call "Coach". If I talk about "Coach" it is Mazzurco, if I talk about "My Coach" it is my cycling coach, Kurt. So, in the process of planning out the race goals - Kurt made me step back and essentially one goal was there: Be Smart. This is extremely challenging to me, in cycling strength is not strength; intelligence is strength. Intelligence + strength increases result quality. I digress.

Friday: Time Trial: a 3.2 mile downhill/uphill 1-2 punch. Overall it gains some elevation and is quite difficult, with the bonus of headwind and dust being blown deep into your lungs.

The TT warm up on the road bike went fairly well. Hot, but well. Switched it to the TT bike for a few start efforts and was going to head to the line. Except something wasn't right. I shortly found out my cassette was jingling like Santa's Sleigh. I had to loop wayyy around to get back to the parking lot (one way roads). Time was now super tight. Thank goodness for the Optum team mechanic, who let me borrow his cassette tool!! I TT'd the 1 mile to the start and got to the line literally 3 seconds before my start and had to start from the flat, not the TT ramp. I came to a complete stop, heard the beep, and was off - not good. I went crazy to try to make up for a bad start. I was already blowing up. Pushing though, I somehow caught the guy in front of me (30 sec) as the course shifted uphill and realized this wouldn't be a good gauge...I aimed to drop as much time into this guy as possible and look for the next man up the road. I cracked, had to leave the big ring, and pushed again - trying to regain some speed after the sharp uphill. I felt like a brick. Crossing the line I nearly "lost my lunch" and my mouth was dried beyond my imagination for not having water for a mere 8 minutes. I finished in 11th place, 34" back from the leader...but only 10" out of 6th place. The next two days were going to be chalked up as "ride smart" and aiming for a good stage result, which could lead to a good swing in the GC standings.

Saturday: 82 miles, 4x20mi laps, 4000 feet total climbing, uphill (non-climbing) finish.

Oh, it was going to be 90F+ yet again. I was not happy, yet again. I do well in the "Belgian Classic" weather, with a record of 3-0 [yes 3 wins, 0 losses] in rainy/cold races (under 50 with rain). I've never raced in above 85 for more than 40 minutes, where you don't even really need water. Anyways, I came prepared as I could - but I learned that level of preparation only gets you 3 laps of 'comfort'....not 4. I was well suited for the fuel demands of a hard 80 mile race, but only 3 water bottles did not suffice! I had about 1500kcal on me: 1 homemade gel flask, a couple homemade bars, and my trusty PROBAR. I'd eat the bars early, then save the gel for when the effort got super high and chewing becomes less enjoyable.

The race started with a break 4 miles in. I told myself WAIT TRAVIS incessantly. It stuck, I didn't go with the break. By two laps they were 2 minutes up (I was sitting in just eating and drinking). I started to get anxious at 1.5 laps. I knew another racer, Clayton, was going to be making a move - he's SUPER strong. We apparently thought to move at the same time. We attacked into the cross/headwind. It looked like we had it stuck with a group of 4. Nope. Clayton attacked again, I wasn't recovered enough. He and another riding got away...and they got away FAST!! The lead group was now between 8-12 riders, some couldn't hold the tempo after 40+ miles off the front. After 3 laps the lead was up to 2:30. Hope seemed nearly lost, excluding an all out and well organized chase with strong riders. Through the start/finish things picked up. A LOT. Soon we were strung out and the feed zone became a death zone. It split. I made the cut. We went to WORK. The other group was chasing us and we didn't want to drag the whole peloton. TriSports guy, other TCR SL 2 ISP rider (Anthony?), and I did the bulk of the surge - but the others helped enough to solidify our standing as the lone chasers. Now it came to one thing and one thing alone: everyone work, or all effort be a waste. Luckily only one guy didn't put work in. We had a decent rotation: 3 working hard, 3 putting in "whatever they could" (or secretly conserving). Luckily we did put this massive effort in. We were absolutely flying. We blew past groups dropped from the Pro/1 race, we tore up those who couldn't hold onto the breakaway. Our descents were 53x11 @ 120rpm on a fast rotation. It was clear. Crush it or be crushed. with about 8K to go, we caught the break. It had dwindled to 6 or so riders. I was cramping. Really really badly. Full locking up of my right leg, partial of my left. I sagged off the group, trying to hide my sheer weakness. Our select group would yield 13 racers. Only 4 were ahead of me in GC. HOLY CRAP! This was working out. If I stayed in it I'm 5th GC. It took nearly all I had to cover an attack that was being left unchased. I considered throwing in the towel for fear of causing a legitimate muscular injury and not even starting on Sunday (it was that bad).

I figured that I worked this hard, I had to stick it out. And if I was going to stick it out, I might as well try for a stage placing. I can't believe with my cramps I pulled off 4th place on the day! Upgrade points woohoo! I was aware everyone else was sufferring. Luckily my sprint capacity outweighed my cramps and weakness in the heat. I was now sitting, uncomfortably, in 5th GC. 4 seconds better, I'd be in 3rd...3 seconds worse, I'd be in 8th. It was very, very tight....

Circuit Race: 45mi, 8x5.6mi laps, Prime (time bonus) @ lap 3.

This is what I looked like after the circuit race. FRIED.
Please note the awesomeness of the hair forming to the helmet vents!

My plan was to, yet again, ride smart and see if I could gain more places in GC. Third place was in range, so was 8th. I'd be 'okay' with 5th because I was in rough shape after Saturday.I'd sit in, go for the prime and finish, and hope things stayed together (which was likely given teams and individual GC standings). If I could snag the 1st place on lap 3 I'd be tied in 3rd. If I could get more I'd have 3rd place solid. Headwind, uphill sprint usually would play into my strengths. However, I was toasted. My ability to sustain three hard days in a row was not having any of it...but I really need that in September, so I have time. No worries.

I stuck in the race, it stayed together. Lap three came around, I accelerated for the sprint, but I didn't realllyyy accelerate and wasn'teven well positioned. No chance on the prime. Big bummer: guy 1 second behind me got the prime. I was now into 6th place and didn't have much for legs. With 1.5 laps to go, I saw 227 (the guy who passed me) put his hand up for having a flat tire. As he slid back, I told him it was a bummer and he did a good job getting the prime. Yes, a flat is unfortunate but that's life. Given that the pace had elevated I knew he was toast. I was back into 5th. With half a lap to go, things got fast up the climb. It was totally strung out up the climb (and feed zone). The guy in 4th went for a bottle, hit a pot hole, and went down - fairly hard. By the time I came by he was still stumbling to get back up. To his misfortune, the pace was very hot. He was out the back and my assumption was right that he would miss catching back on. Things were sketchy as normal coming into the last turn - everyone stupidly dive-bombing in on the inside. I stayed patient and didn't do anything stupid, which set me up horribly (read: last 3 wheels into the final kilometer). I moved up, burning whatever crappy low-octane matches were remaining in my book. With about 400m to go, the group formed far on the left side of the road and I went with it as the right side was quite packed. Sadly the train died pretty quick and it was blasting nearly solo into the wind...until that kid cut me off. I pulled the full on stop pedal and hit the brakes...which sucks even more on an uphill with a headwind than anywhere else. I saved it and made 6th place, one place out of an additional upgrade point...but I made 4th place GC!

Here's a nice shot of the climb of the circuit race. Never too tired or shelled to rock out with the awesomest bike in the whole wide world - name Phoenix. Plus it was a pretty view, which I am pretty sure I totally ruined.

Overall, the stage race went better than I was expecting. I know I have pretty low amounts of intensity in my legs and came to Tucson to get into fitness and not to be fully race ready. Initially, no races were on the docket in Tucson until we realized that my fitness was starting out quite well and a little fire tossed at the legs would be good - both for getting into racing mode and seeing where I stand. Well, here it is: I have 9 upgrade points, which is 25% to the elusive Category 1 upgrade! If only there had been 8 more guys registered, I would have 18 points. It's pretty crazy how much field size plays into the value of a race.

Final GC standings:

Nevertheless, I am quite happy with my first real racing in 2013. Sorry I don't have pictures of the races - they haven't been posted online yet.

This will likely be my last (or second to last) post from Tucson. I am heading out from here on the 26th or 27th. Only a few more days of quality left. I'll be sad to leave, but excited to be home...as long as the weather is decent (rawrrr!).

2013: The Beginning

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

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

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

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

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

Suck It Up, Buttercup.

After a hiatus from the normalcy of training, nutrition, life, and work that started off the summer of 2012 as a truly amazing experience for me, it is time to get back to the basics that made me feel stronger than I ever have in my life, physically and emotionally. I'm going back to my normal diet state, which pretty much makes me a super-powered herbivore :D. I'm going back to my (essentially vegan, with some outside experimentation - I never stop experimenting) optimal dieting simply so everyone who wants to spend time or meals with me does not forget how much of a huge pain in the ass I am to be around. Or maybe it's because I'm now officially a social ambassador for PROBAR and I get amazinggg vegan whole food bars that make me so happy I want to eat nothing else (except for massive salads. And cookies. And other delicious healthy things that are so good my non-vegan friends think I'm an evil magician).

The real reason is a combination of things that leads to a singular cause: to be as fit and strong as I humanly can be when the world ends on December 21, 2012. Although if I could be as strong as a cockroach by then I'd likely outlive all humans...I'll ponder that one later. My 2012 season was going as great as I could have imagined - I'll do a season wrap up sometime soon, as it's pretty much over. Then 6 weeks of losing fitness (3 of which I didn't even touch the comforting saddle and bars of Slice of Life) kinda got in the way. Crashing in a really good position in the final lap of my last two races of the season didn't help build things back up either, so it's back to the drawing board.

Don't get me wrong when I say this (but I'm sure most people will get me wrong aside from a few who really really know me), I'm not satisfied finishing this season in category 2. It was my bare minimum goal for 2012 back in the spring when I was category 4. I finished it within 6 weeks of racing and was looking (and, more importantly, feeling) great to be hitting the upper goal of 2012. Race Mayor's Cup in the Pro/1 field, if not that then put in my upgrade request (from what I hear it sounds like it's more complicated than going pro) after a podium in the 2/3. But alas none of that is happening, I won't even racing Mayor's Cup. Now I know most people think I should be off the wall pumped that I'm cat 2...and I was amped......back in June. I have no reason to believe I should be category 1 at this point given that shortly after my upgrade everything fell apart except for my (invincible) bike itself - she held on nice and tight. I joked to my teammates/friends that TCR stands for Travis Crash Resistant. Hey, if you can't laugh at yourself stay away from me because you're no fun!

I got caught in a vicious cycle of:
1. Something problematic or interfering happens (crash, injury, travel, etc).
2. Subsequent loss in fitness due to lack of access to training or inability to train.
3. Struggle emotionally with losing fitness...fight the urge to believe hope is lost.
4. Remember that I *am* strong and it WILL come back, it just takes time.
5. Step 1 comes back along, manifesting itself in a new form...before the fitness had time to return.

This happened about 5 times over. It included 3 crashes, which were literally the best (not worst) of the problems. After June this year has absolutely sucked, and I've let my fitness and health fall off far more than it needed to given the difficulties. I believe external things can only effect an individual so much. Because no matter the negative external source, a strong and mentally tough individual will be able to find a way to either overcome said difficulties or use those difficulties as motivation. Regardless of what happened this summer, I'm not pleased that I faltered in my motivation and performance. Looks like it's time for yet another "Return to Glory", but on a whole different level.

On that note, I shall take the very wise advice from probably the most influential person in my life. It's time to stop deflecting and complaining and to "Suck It Up, Buttercup": the famous, never out of place nor uncalled for, always 'well played' words of Deb Kroot.