Blueberry Cove Half Marathon 2022

Blueberry Cove Half Marathon; August 28th, 2022. Small, homey race in Tenant’s Harbor, for 4-H Blueberry Cove - raised $25K!! They like to keep it homey, so entries are capped at 250ish so it was a pretty full year. The week leading up to it represented the first real break in the heat, the humidity as well but less so. I was happy to take a start temp under 70F, despite the humidity staying fairly high.

Small races always present opportunity. Simple race mornings, easy coordination with race pals, cleaner fields, and - most of all - GREAT people. From Steve (the race director), to the couple who offered to take a picture of Zack and me at the start, to Susan Davis (who deserves a post in her own right!), to the home made pottery awards and finisher ‘medals’.

The Set Up: I’ve had a good run (heh) of races lately and the momentum was strong, but training had gotten between overreaching and “training through”. I was planning 20mi for the day alongside a super tough course (750ft of elevation up/down) to cap off a big build up training cycle. I wasn’t expecting a PR, but intended to run within 10sec/mi of my PR from 2019 (Old Port HM, 1:21:47). Given that, If I PR’d it would be a stunning but not totally out of question after 5K/10K best times within the last month. We opted to stay the night up in Rockland before the race, which was wise versus a day trip (2hour drive). It also fueled us nicely at Ada’s (Eat Pasta, Run Fasta!) & Sammy’s Deluxe (highly recommend) - see previous post.

Our flat personas for the race.
Exact same shorts and shoe models, all thanks to Zack's incredible market research and showing me the light! I was all Nike in the shoe category (but Pegasus & Peg Turbo)...and wasn't too keen on Nike half tights until the Aeroswift.

Having the “guys' weekend” also be our big pre-marathon race was perfect. Zack is very much been an inspiration as I’ve worked to make my own progress in running, which is trivial in comparison to what he’s done and the leaps and bounds. Lucky for me, he’s also probably the best hype-man out there. He’d been working through a bit of an injury, barely running the last 2 weeks, and he did an incredible job focusing on success “today” vs what was the plan when we signed up…something we all say we want to be good at, but usually end up throwing caution to the wind and paying for it even worse later. 

Race Morning: Awake at 4:40 AM and luckily Zack likes to be on the same timing so I didn’t have to be quiet with lights out. I put some water on my thrown together oatmeal and use the ice room’s microwave. When that was ready I started sipping on the coffee elixir from Sammy‘s Deluxe. That was some power fuel and the Chaga element was a little too much that early in the morning, so I put down half of it and then poured a nitro cold brew can of coffee to calm down the rest of it. I think on a regular morning or afternoon that would have gone down on its own. But I don’t like doing too much new on race day.

Started to do some self-massage and rolling on the legs, focusing on my left foot, which had been somewhat of a limiting factor over the past few weeks - ever since the beer mile (obligatory eyeball). Everything felt pretty spritely and alive, finished up the oatmeal while doing a quick 30 minute NormaTec session (level 5, not 7). After that it was a handoff of Normas to Zack and quick shower then final pack and off to the race. We got in the car a little bit later than we desired, but with plenty of time to spare, especially given the small town nature of the race. 

The drive from Rockland to Tenant’s Harbor had cool air, no need for A/C for once, and was an enjoyable drive with minimal traffic. My race-morning anticipation (anxiety??) showed when it was almost 7AM and there was a line of cars for this small race. It passed and we got a fine parking spot - between the start and finish, which were only like 0.25mi apart. I went straight into a warmup, thankfully having no need for the bathroom…I wanted 20 on the day, so needed 2-3 on the warmup (which was also a need for running a hard HM from the getgo).

Warm up: good hydration and a shot blok around 7:10, with 1+ miles in the Pegasus+compression socks, where a shoe switch may not be a convenience to be offered at other events. I didn’t want to stress timing, so I put on my regular socks (honestly, the lightweight Feetures have seriously taken top step well beyond everything I’ve worn previously) and the Alpha Flys. The immediate comical change in gait and step was present and I was a little thankful to calibrate to them for a mile before the race began. A couple 20-30 second surges to ~6min/mi and I was feeling primed but, as always, not quite physically ready for what was to come but in a really good mental state…nonetheless the hills worried me and it was gonna be a game of effort vs pace.

A couple selfies, and kind peeps taking pictures of Zack and me at the start and it was game time. I didn’t see anyone who I immediately recognized (no big names from the greater Portland area), and no one who looked Uber-pro. This observation came with equal parts comfort and fear, but I tried not to allow this to give me comfort. I came to run MY race. If I was within 2mins of my PR, that’s good. Within 1min was the A-goal. Anything more was fluff and a product of good form and execution! 

Deuces all around. 223 & 224 & the one and only 22!

The Race: Pleasant, low key start. A little girl (didn’t catch her name, but maybe one who goes to the 4-H camp?) rang the start bell after some instructions from Steve Cartwright, the Race Director. The ring was not your classic start gun or cannon, and left us briefly confused before we took off. Immediately I worked to find pace, low 6 or so, to stabilize and get a feel as we started flat into a bit of a downhill…talking down the good ol’ John Izzo yelling “The first 400m is FREE!!!” in my ear from UR.

It was quickly relevant that at 6:05 pace and having a gap, there weren’t any immediate really fast runners targeting sub-80, at least from the gun. This gave me a sense of concern, not ease and comfort - a good thing, in my opinion. I kept looking around, seeing a duo form about 20m behind, then a couple others behind them. I’m not sure the last time or EVER if I led a race and I’ve never won a race. In 2013 I was first male but second overall, as my check of Athlinks verifies that I never have finished a running race in first place.

Mile 1: 6:05. Spot on for the loss in elevation, and it felt so SO good. Heart rate was comfy in the low 160s. It was weird leading a race, especially at an effort that was comfortable and commensurate with the distance of the half marathon for me! I didn’t let that bubble over into (over)confidence. I came to race the Travis from 2019 and 2010, the eras of all my PRs….not to try to claim victory. If the two things coincided, that’s a bonus and if I had a chance to win, I’d throw down all I have to make it happen…but that was 12 miles away still.

Mile 2: 6:21. First hills coming. The downhills were sharp and awkward, as usual for me. At the end of mile 2, Henry Pehr caught me on a downhill and got a shot of adrenaline that I had to suppress, too early to “race” or worry about place. We reminisced in the old college running days in different calibers: he at UNC Chapel Hill, me at Rochester. He was mid distance and definitely a bit faster than I was, fear rising.

Miles 3-7: 6:20, :27, :15, :30, :31. This was a bit of a blur, in a good way. Henry and I chatted pretty constantly. Sometimes it resulted in losing focus on the pace, but we kept the pressure on pretty solidly - uphills were aggressive and strong, downhills I had to keep up with Henry’s long stride. I ate and drank at every planned time, adjusting around some of the harder sections. Water was approximately every 2 miles, but water was at ~4&5 then not until 8.

We had some tough constant hills from 3.25-7, sea level to 100ft a few times over. Definitely started to set in some substantial fatigue and took some oomph out of my stride. My heart rate started to slip into the 180s at this point, which is approaching redline. That’s a bit early in the race for me, but keeping pace with a competitor without digging too deep was the priority for the time being.

Mile 8: 6:16. The most beautiful and classic part of the race! Port Clyde and then off towards the historic (go ahead and watch Forrest Gump) Marshall Point lighthouse, which is very unassuming. We worked this section as there were actually some people in town cheering for the race! I told Henry about the Marshall Point lighthouse - thanks to Zack’s reading about the race.

Obligatory Forrest Gump/Marshall Point Lighthouse selfie. Zack's beard is themed well!

Mile 9: 6:23. The turnaround at the lighthouse was SUPER tight, the Alpha Flys were displeased but I didn’t roll my ankle. The turn was so aggressive that I said “Shit! I didn’t even look at the lighthouse”. It was too far behind us that we couldn’t see it.

Henry said "Well, we've only gotta do 2 miles twice at this point!"

We finally saw other runners on the out/back section here. There was a really good race for 3rd-7th, which was fun to see. 

Mile 10-11: 6:11, :06. This is where it started to get seriously hard, and where I forced my effort to stay deliberate and high. The major hills were behind us but these ones definitely hurt equally or more despite being gentler and shorter. The pavement was new and comfortable.

When you get into a place race at this point - whether it’s for 100th or 1st…you start assessing your edge, the advantage you have or those nearby and how to capitalize if possible. Maybe it’s just a tactic to give yourself focus on how to find success. I found my focal point: Henry had (and probably still has) faster leg speed…so slowing it down and leaving it to a sprint was not Plan A through D. I’m glad I fueled and drank well and it started setting in that this might be my key point of advantage over Henry. He didn’t take any food for the race and only grabbed water twice. I was happy to use my energy to ensure we kept the throttle on hard and we’re burning the absolute maximum energy without cracking myself. 

Mile 12: 6:12. HR now 185 for the mile. Spicy. My plan to make it harder for myself was working. Hopefully he felt as badly. Then I found another possible edge. Henry asked my age. I told him 33. He said he was 27, he seemed relieved that this guaranteed us each a victory of sorts. 1 overall, 1 age group. The age group part wasn’t a comforting thing for me, my brain in its miserable and stressed state wanted to snatch it up as a perfect scenario - you get a “top step” either way! The recent effort I’d put into running and life lately wasn’t going to feel worth it if I didn’t at least TRY TO lay it all down for the win.

I started to get little chills, not excitement chills but physiological ones. It meant that the effort was approaching absolute maximum. Chills when pouring sweat, at 185bpm, in 75F with 90%+ humidity. I thought of a Pre quote, and in hindsight realize that in comparison I’m ridiculously soft. But it made for a nice moment in extremis. I know damn well that when one of those comes by, you appreciate it, cherish it, let it fuel you until it eventually it is overridden by the brain in danger mode.

Mile 13 "Well, we only gotta do 2x800m at this point!" It got a very light chuckle, which may have been mistaken as a grunt or grimace to any onlooker of the race. Boom. 5:54. Net flat mile, downhill in the first half, uphill in the second. A small flat section in the middle. We were not backing off a bit into the final mile, heck we both said let’s make it out fastest. I don’t think either of us were ready for it to be only marginally the fastest. You always have this hope in a good race that you can really slam the last mile and come in ripping and looking/feeling badass.

We flew downhill, under 6 flat pace. I was hurting, I wanted to be tactical but at redline coming into an uphill half mile there isn’t a lot except when to burn that final match or two in the book. Henry hit the gas into the uphill. I pushed and got right behind him. He swerved and as I got up to speed it felt painfully labored. A huge side stitch ripped below my right rib cage, immediately my breathing was super audible and nearly gasping. I got it under control after digging my fingers into it and started on dragging back the 10-15 feet he gapped me. If he kept up this speed I was not likely to have a chance in hell at beating him, but I refused to let my body back off and accept the age group win.

I got back up to him and took the left position. Inside line for the dirt finish. Run the tangents, take the shortest and fastest line. Bike racing engrained some of these tactics that are oft missed in running, because such a lapse in judgement in cycling can give your opponent a free win. He made it clear he thought we were closer to the end and as I was reeling from the recent effort, saw my chance coming up when he was still regretting his attack and we both were hurting from it. If I hurt like hell, so does he. Like Jeff Dixon told me: “if you can’t taste iron/blood then you’re probably not in a good enough position for the finish”. I doubled down on making the race as miserable as possible and started to burn it all once we were around 400m to go. I wanted to have a gap before the dirt, because I don’t fully trust these shoes on such surface and feared it’d feel like going through mud for both of us and every meter of space was painful separation to claw back. I checked over my shoulder and a solid gap opened. I looked dead ahead for the finish line between the canopy and turn in the road, but made sure I had quality footing. I threw it all down not taking a modicum of comfort from the last gap I saw. 

Holy shit. A first place happened. Fully aware it was in part due to the field that day (thank god no one running last years 1:12 showed up!), I was still overwhelmed with the feeling I had never had before in a running race.

All in all, it was basically tied for a PR - far better than I anticipated. My PR was from 2019 @ 1:21:47. This race I finished at 1:21:12, but it was a little short (13.04mi by my watch). Extrapolated to 13.11, that is a 1:21:38 - so, just barely but courses often run a little long, so it was basically a "tie" from 2019, but on a much harder course! So it met my goals very clearly. I added on the last 0.07mi but it was SLUGGISH, totaling about 1:22:20.

The sprint for glory!

Post: I gave Henry a hug or pound or something and congratulated him on a hard earned race. I thanked him for being a companion and fighter that kept me running scared until the very end of the race. He kept me far more accountable and stronger than I would have without him. He definitely was a big part of the approximate PR time at the distance. We grabbed water (I added on 0.07mi so my Garmin would properly accept the HM distance), chatted, and talked to a few people as the trickled in for the top ten. 

Henry and I with our spoils, well earned from 11 hard miles side-by-side. 

I called Bailey from the car and told her all about the race. There’s nothing better than sharing a peak day with the people you love. Whether it’s in person (with Zack) or recounting the thrill and joy on the phone (with Bailey). I had to get moving before I tightened up further and had to also go see Zack out on the course…I would’ve hung it up after a short jog if it wasn’t for him being here so I was thankful for the external motivation to close out my bonus miles on the day.

I headed out backtracking the course after switching out my shoes and jersey. I was pretty wrecked. The first mile I stopped 4 times to stretch/rest and it was sluggish at very best. By the time I saw Zack at 2 miles, I was able to move pretty well and spun around alongside him. In classic Zack fashion he was more interested in how I did than how his race was going. “You won didn’t you?!” He had seen me at the 0.75mi mark solo and that was all he needed to be sure I’d execute, I’m glad one of us was sure! I beamed in joy that he was right but also that he was a billion times more confident in me making it happen than I was. I told him my race was over and it was now his turn to bring it home and focus the next two miles. He multitasked on getting the work done and being proud of me, as he told many people we passed that I had won (as I covered my face). It was the best victory lap imaginable for the day. Finishing a race, then getting to celebrate a close friend’s accomplishment alongside him immediately after. I was even able to grab some quality content for him with a few photos and videos.

Zack finished strong and happily without the pain he’d had the week before. While it wasn’t his fastest half, it was in all levels a huge success. By the time I caught up to him he had started running again - a man of principle!! He had to get the extra distance to round out a complete half marathon distance after realizing his watch was a few hundredths of a mile shy 💪.

The rest of the post race was awesome. Some great conversation, exceptional spread of food and drink, and a relaxing close knit atmosphere. I already knew I’d have to plan to come back in 2023. The awards ceremony was great and I was able to get a pretty awesome handmade coffee mug, which is my new go to at home. 

Top tier snacks, Zack approved.

We left after the awards with a great deal of hype and energy to keep a great day going…but thank god for Cumberland Farms any size iced coffee for 99 cents. That saved the both of us on the drive. I’m very much of the NEXT mentality, but it felt really good to come away with a hard-fought win.

At this point, the race was a week ago and I’m fully focused on the Chicago marathon; my real, singular focus of the running season. It’s been a continually good series of events and one is bound to be a bad day, but I’ll ride this wave as long as I can. Often I look back at where I was 6-9months ago and see what feels like entirely different version of myself, at least athletically. I also see it in my dedication and work ethic generally in life. I realize that every future improvement will be smaller and tougher earned than every previous one, but I’m excited to keep working harder and more deliberately than ever. NEXT. I’m only as good as my next race. 

Beach to Beacon 2022 Race Report

Beach to Beacon; August 6th, 2022. Classic day. Seems like it might be cooler than recent and manageable. But it’s even more humid and the temp may be lower than the day before, but it’s still tough. Some wind on the course provided mild reprieve.

The set up. Really stressful work week, coming off a 5K PR last weekend and some hard efforts, lots of excitement for the weekend (friends’ wedding + hosting 4 guests + hosting the day after wedding brunch for 50 people), and I finally put a PR target on a race so the pressure was seriously on...

After 4th of July 10K (36:49) I said the goal was a PR at B2B. I honestly wasn’t even sure if sub36 would be doable as nearly 1 minute in a month is a lot more than a lot to ask for!

Race day. Food and coffee, check. A little light NormaTec while watching some recent worlds 10K races. Stretch. Hydrate. Prep is good. Legs are okay, not bad but not feeling fully primed. I’ve come to realize this part is not a complete tell, and as long as you’re prepared you can perform through a lot of what FEELS sluggish.

Bailey kindly chauffeured a full car to the start - and home - while only managing a couple miles herself due to painful traffic routing. We got to the start line before 7:30 - start time 8:12. Bathroom was really calling. Too much to ignore. Not so bad it was do or die. Picked the wrong line (actually, because Danielle was in and out 5mins faster!).

Warm up: Untapped Maple Coffee @ 7:40!! 1.25mi, little sweat, couple surges to 6 pace. Not the 2mi I wanted but plenty. Then came the battle through the crowd, holy crap thousands of people really crammed up hard to run sub7 😒 . I got to about the 7:00/mi spot, got a photo with Neff wooooot for my troubles.

Race start: shit show (my fault because of timing), but people were going sub 5 blowing by me and legit people WALKING off the starting line. Others yelled at them to get off the road. After 45 seconds I felt like I was more or less running versus doing slalom or plyos jumping through people. Quickly hit a stride of 5:35/mi. Fast, yes, but downhill and very controlled. Hit the mile in 5:42, after that it was still a lot of passing but the road was usable - just not perfect tangents (there’s my 3 seconds?! My fault, again!).

Mile 2 my HR was already into the 180s. Humidity and some heat. This would make 4th of July 10K look light, I knew that already. Not as easy of a mile as it looks, false flat all the way. 5:49. After this I knew it was a matter of steady as we go, hovering this pace. The challenges would come from 2.8-3.75 and all of mile 6.

Mile 3. Clicked it off quick, not easy. 5:46 even with some downhill that’s my style. Coming up the hill closing out I knew maintaining pace into mile 4 was key.

Mile 4. Woof. Self doubt hits hard in the sun on the uphill drag past Cape High. The race - at least against myself - at B2B is won on the two harder sections. If you can hold strong, you can “recover” into mile 5, then after mile 6…we’ll, you finish harder and are done. Luckily amidst the doubt, I came alongside Jacob Brady. We exchanged a few quips, whatever we could manage and he told me I’d been running super well lately and clearly once again having a good day. I told him honestly it was really a struggle here and the smart racer told me there was the downhill ahead to prep for the next beating. 5:43.

Mile 5: on a better day this would feel like some mixed of turnover and gravity propelling a runner to an easy faster mile. It was nothing of the sort. The downhills were clunky and the flats were without rhythm…I just wanted to go back uphill where I at least felt I was outputting relatively well. I took a moment and let myself back down from the effort, a mental lapse that I was able to suppress and regain focus. Not easy, but we’ve been there before and we’ll all be there again. The pace was good (enough) versus the feel, and that’s mostly what mattered. 5:55, thanks to the downhill - no thanks to me. 😰 and the heart rate barely dropped. As expected the B2B for me came down to execution on mile 6. It was a 1.25 mile race. Just 5 laps, not bad right?! Lol

Then it FUCKING HIT ME. I was pretty much immediately cross eyed. Harry Nelson was there guiding finishers. I said “Hey Harry ! It’s Travis Kroot!” This seemed to worry him because of course we know each other. He asked if I needed help as I inhaled useless hot damp air that continued to leave my lungs begging for sustenance. I wobbled, pretty considerably, because the next person asked multiple times if I needed to go into the Med tent. I asked if I could just have an IV without the hubbub, but said others would absolutely need it way more. Surprisingly that reassured the woman and off I went to wobble and plop in my soaked shoes towards the grassy knoll best known as “the actual final test of B2B”. Ruth (16yo) walked by me, clearly more expert at this racing deal. We exchanged pleasantries. As always with young athletes who are fast as fuck, I have a deep curiosity if there is joy in it or if it already feels like a job. I got some strong sense of the former, despite my lack of function.

PR!!!

Up the hill and BAILEYYY!!! Oh man what a joy to see that woman. Even now it brings a tear to my eye (as I wrote at 1am and she’s doing a night shift at Maine Med). She’s really carried a lot for me - emotionally and physically - through this transition back into fitness.

Even better than the PR!

LL Bean 4th of July 10K 2022 Race Report

 4th of July 10K Race Report notes, not a full report, but a worthy share:

Top goal was sub37. Acceptable would have been anything under 38 honestly!
First formal 10K since....2010 (???!!!) when I PR'd at 36:11. I knew the PR wasn't in range, but feel like I'm approaching slowly. Last week's workout showed a lot better fitness than I expected after the 5K a few weeks ago, so I figured a mix of going out by feel but also a LITTLE relaxed was critical. Toughish course and one to test you well, especially on the 5th mile!

After about 2.5, settled in next to a sophomore at Stonehill (Jace Hollenback). Good dude, great conversation for heartrates over 170->190! We worked the 3-6mile range, really chewing up the people in front of us. We didn't let catching them be a reason for backing off the gas.

Mile 5 was where mental effort seriously peaked. After that it was just about finishing fast as I could. Mile 4 was hard and very very physical, but we still managed 6:00 pace for 4-5 (marginally). Mile 6 started with a nice slight descent where we were averaging around 5:40, it was clear we both were going to finish with our fastest mile....a rarity it seems that you must cherish deeply despite the suffering that ensues.

Despite the bit of climbing in mile 6, came through 5:43 and started to push for the last 400m flat to use it up. Managed a quarter in sub-75, something that has felt "woooof fast" on the track so far.

Didn't really focus on "time" during the race. Jace and I talked about managing a possible sub 37 if we held it together past mile 4, we in fact needed to step it up - gaining 17 seconds on Mile 6 was the key to get us under 37!! Feeling a little like an old version of my past self lately, brings a few tears to the eyes.

Next Level, unlocked. B2B goal: PR.

Shoe "choice" (it's not a choice at this point): Nike AlphaFly. Phenomenal running shoe, feels glorious and manages to let me go downhills hard without feeling like I'm breaking my foot bones. After mile 5, when that uphill section should have had me crying...I still had some good bounce and push. I wouldn't say I "recovered" mid race but definitely bounced back to hammer home the last 2K!

My processing of the race and recent build up:

Running has really reached that fulfilling state in recent months. The initial catalyst was running alongside Bailey at the Newmarket Marathon as she BQ’d last fall. It was also a really REALLY great race for me even though my focus was being a pacer. It showed me how to work and deliver on a plan, that sometimes what one feels is not achievable is truly within reach. I hadn’t been there myself for quite a while.

What I didn’t know was how hard it’d be to get traction off of a hamstring that hamstrung my training off of that race. I relinquished the effort, getting back to what has become “my winter weight” - 30 pounds over 2019 race weight - and generally was discouraged. But I was(and still am) loving work so it was manageable. My laziness and lack of motivation started to hit my overall drive and I had to make a change; there was also the upcoming Mt Whitney summit attempt and the Vermont City Marathon. Two events I told myself I’d be ready for, once again alongside Bailey.

I kicked it into high gear, with the help of family, friends, Whoop (thanks, Jason!), and IDEXX having Noom as a benefit. Today I’m at a race weight not seen since 2013 and gaining strength/speed what seems like daily. Lately, I smile at the joy of being able to go faster when I’m exhausted and feel spent. Suffering in a race is heavily rewarded by speed and near-PR times, a combination not to be taken lightly as in the long term such things are ephemeral. Here’s to keeping it going.

Chicago 2022. I see you.

Purgatory RR: In bullet points.

The Race: Attack, fail, more attacks, fail, break got away, attack extremely hard, get pulled back, assume position of "pack filler" with no more attacks left. Feel like shit on climb #2. Sit in middle of pack. Miss big crash, smell lots of burning rubber/carbon, thank myself that I wasn't up there in the attacking this lap. Fell like crap on climb #3. Work with fellow stragglers to rejoin pack. Sit in literally the back of the pack. Feel okay on climb #4. Feel good after climb #5...three guys get away through the start/finish. Take a BIG pull on the downhill, someone (John Harris) attacks just before the feed zone, somehow I match the attack with one other.

The three of us (Harris, Eric Follen, and I) go balls out (at least I was going that hard) and separate from field. I say "oh crap" just before the finish of the feed zone hill because I thought I had imploded. Muster strength to get on wheels of the other two. Work our asses off to catch the 3 who got away 1K before us. Catch those 3. Establish lead over field, catch remnants of break and immediately drop them...except Keith Kelly (who cramped horribly) who is beast enough to survive with us despite said cramps.

Only 4 guys up the road (they would place 1-4), with our group of 7 in a clear gap of the peloton to take 5th-11th...until, when I was feeling absolutely pumped about the final climb - the first time in the race when I wasn't concerned about how I'd get up it, 4K to go when suddenly (while pedaling totally steady and not hard at all) my groin locked up horribly. I had to jump off my bike. Tried stretching, couldn't even clip in, stretched again, no dice, stretched again (knowing the pack was coming soon), tried pedaling single leg, no dice. Tried walking, no dice. Field passes me. Stragglers pass me. Still can't do anything to rid myself of cramps. DNF.

Got a ride back from a kind gentleman...who offered me a beer to which I kindly declined, he had a road beer - that lifted my spirits and made me chuckle. Internally, of course.

My take: I rode an aggressive race to start - and simply missed the break because I was in between attacks and not because I was away from the front of the race. I was extremely patient and recovered once I knew that bridging to the break was out of the question. Slowly, I regained strength, and put it ALL on the line when the moment seemed right. It was. I put myself in position for a great result in a very strong field. I rode smart in the chase group, not overexerting and not covering gaps that opened. I had never ridden like that (intelligent) in my life. For some reason, without a major stimulus (I didn't do anything to spark it) and simply from the wear and tear of the race, I cramped up like never before: in Tucson and Battenkill I had really bad cramps but was able to land 4th and 15th (top group) in those races.

I'm happy with Purgatory this year - especially with how dumb I was last year. Just didn't quite have it in me. I'm quite bummed about how it ended, I would've understood if I exploded to my demise on the last climb. But not on an easy false flat. I proved a few things to myself yesterday and, for that, I am pleased.

Time to train it up and prep the body (and mind) for the next race...whenever it may be.

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.

Inadventent Reflection: Looking Back to June

It's interesting to look back on your thoughts from months ago, when things go entirely different than you ever anticipated. Well, here's a fine example of that. I wrote this on Tuesday morning, June 26th, 2012 - the day of the Exeter Crit. When I wrote this up planning to put myself in great position for the finish as I did at Keith Berger on Sunday the 24th. It was great - my positioning could have been slightly better...going into the sprint I was in 7th, but too far back on the top three to get up there. I was already into 6th place, and was next to a younger rider - he was about 3 feet to my left so I had a real clean lane - when out of nowhere someone completely cleaned out my front wheel. He came from behind me and on my right side, where no one was when I started the sprint so I was focused forward and to the left - working to pick off a couple final guys. Had my acceleration been typical to me, I would've given a really great battle for 4th place. But that was long gone when I hit the ground at a touch over 38 miles per hour. It would have been my best ever race. Even if I ended up in 5th, it would've outweighed anything: 2nd at Washington County GC, Winning the 4/5 Witches' Cup, controlling an entire crit - placing in all 3 primes and 2nd in the finish. Would've put all those to shame. But some ignorant and foolish rider took me out...I could never find a video of the finish to figure out who did it, because I didn't see a damn thing when it happened.

So here I am, almost 5 months later, and nothing for the rest of summer went according to plan. Actually, it went quite a lot worse. I did a few smaller races, but never returned to the fitness I had back in June. I've flat out missed over 4 whole weeks training since that crash (only a few days due to injury). I probably missed 4 weeks in the previous 4 years. I'm getting back into riding consistently...not feeling perfect, but much better is for sure. After this weekend I'll be into my 2013 training and getting set to run my 24 Miler birthday run in January.

Here's my write-up that was from June 26th...which was effectively the end of my 2012 season:

Title: Self-punishment to yield self-benefit

"Everyone knows that in order to grow you need to challenge yourself and work your ass off, sometimes to a point that is seemingly beyond your capacity (but really you just learn that your capabilities are greater than you ever imagined). That's what cycling has been to me. Ever since I really started racing bike last spring and declared myself a cyclist a year ago, I have been growing so fast my only rationalization of it is to soak up every bit of it. For a while I just accepted it and loved it, as naturally as anyone would. But a couple months ago, when I was a Category 4 racer and I wanted to race Green Mountain Stage Race as a Cat 2, I realized that accepting improvement was not nearly enough anymore. I was going to have to embrace every little component of cycling in order to grow as I needed for myself: making sure my body position is stable and smooth, knowing how to race and not merely racing, knowing every last strength extremely well...and knowing my weaknesses even more, and on and on. There is a theme in cycling when it comes to getting better: knowledge is absolute power.

A teammate and good friend, Jeff, has been guiding me through this process and with excellent effectiveness. He might know my capabilities - both intellectual and physical - even more than I do. I am slowing gaining progress on learning how to race well, something that is borderline subconscious for Jeff after his years of high level racing. It is extremely hard to learn to race when your focus is jumping categories quickly. When you upgrade really quickly you don't have time to test yourself with attacks, bold moves, igniting a breakaway, and drilling the hills so hard you think you're going to explode (with the hopes that everyone is even worse off than you by the summit). You learn to race just smart enough and just strong enough to ensure those upgrade points keep coming - but by doing this you merely learn to race in a comfort zone that results in...well...a result, regardless of how good or bad it is. You get many top 10's and not so many wins, where a couple more months in the category would yield big wins. Along the way you're bound to get a W here or there but while your focus is winning, the strategy is getting yourself to the next level. In order to ensure this, you sacrifice a little bit of that top end of the potential that is needed to yield a win.

Now that I am Category 2, something I desired to complete at the end of the season, it is an entirely different sport. I was beautifully positioned on Sunday at the Keith Berger Crit for at very worst a top 10 (my head was 100% on a top 5 as we went down the back straightaway), and it fell apart in milliseconds. And I couldn't do a damn thing about it. All of Monday I was struggling to focus on anything else, I wanted to find where I failed to adapt to the situation and give myself the edge above everyone else. I couldn't find it. I was ready to give an amazing effort at a top finish, and it disappeared in front of me and I was hopeless in doing so. As much as I hate failing at a goal because I made a mistake, I learn so much from these things: I have had few situations in which I made an error that was fatal to my finish. At the Nutmeg crit, I foolishly went on a massive bridging effort and then breakaway for half of the race. I got sucked back into the pack despite trying to stay away. I recovered enough for a 4th place in the end. No longer will I get such chances, every little thing you do to waste energy will cut you down in the finish. If that wasn't enough, the guys I am racing for cash and upgrade points are amazing atheltes. They are guys who write off people like me as 'not worth the worry' and cruise seemingly effortlessly to victory."

It was interesting reading this after going back through past drafted, but not posted blogs. I think that should be the key reason many people write their own diaries (whether public or private), so you can put yourself back in time to when you wrote it.

It's nice to see a little flicker of the excitement I had within me back in such prime fitness this summer (even though I wasn't even close to where I could have ended up in 2012). That excitement about my current fitness is no longer there, but it is not a bad thing as I know I am sitting in what I would like to describe, mathematically, as a 'local minimum'. Not sure if that has ever been used in actual endurance sport terminology, but here is my definition: The time point that signifies the lowest fitness on a periodic or seasonal  scale.

My excitement about my fitness may no longer be present, but it has been replaced by the raging fire that will ensure great levels of improvement.

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).