Break Free: The Trail to Ale 10K Report

There are few things quite as painful as a 10K.

No, really: this is a distance that just flat-out sucks. There is no better way to describe it. It's too short of a race to really attempt a more disciplined approach, but it's too long to attempt to go balls to the wall. The best way I've heard it described, from my buddy Seth, is that "it's 5K intensity, doubled, and you're praying to hold on."

I've raced a lot this season; a marathon, three half-Revs, the Friday Night Fights series, among others. This little 10K here in Portland was one of the harder events of the year. But it also taught me a valuable lesson:

I can run pretty darn fast, when I just let my mind relax.

Now, for the actual race report:

Gearing Up: The Week Before
Unlike Rev3 Maine, where I was a hurtin' unit for the week afterwards, coming off of Cedar Point I felt good. I was contemplating signing up for another race in the Rev3 series (note: nope, not happening. You'll find out why when I reveal the 2013 race schedule next week.)

I had eased my way back into training with some light-duty stuff, all non-impact: hour long bike, a swim, some weight training. I was tired from the couple of half-distance efforts, but otherwise the body felt very strong, and very good.

I went for my first run following Cedar Point the day before the race, just a nice 30-minute cruise with a couple sets of striders. I didn't know what to expect. I felt a bit tight, especially in the hips. Ruh-roh, Scooby.

So going in, I had absolutely no expectations.

Except, well, there was a matter of pride on the line. In one of my more creative moments, I decided to create a Facebook contest for the store. There were six of us from Maine Running Company involved in the event, including Adam, my friendly rival. The concept was simple: you picked which one of the six you thought would win, and their finishing time. Whoever came closest would win a gift certificate for the store.

I knew there was no chance in hell of me winning, unless I tied the shoe laces of the speedsters together. I mean, I'm not running a 36:XX 10K out of the box. I might be improving, but that just wasn't going to happen.

So my goal was simple: beat Adam.

You see, Adam and I have had a friendly rivalry for a while. It helps push each other to new heights. This started with an open 10K training run last April. Then it stretched into our Beach to Beacon last year, where (depending on who you ask), he beat me, or I beat him. He then proceeded to crush me at Timberman last year, definitively, by nearly 45 minutes. I then returned the favor in the first CompuTrainer battle at Maine Running Company.

We unfortunately didn't get to race each other all that much this year; Adam spent his winter last year in Hawaii that effectively killed his racing budget for the year. (Pity party for the poor fellow, right?) He focused on some running events, whereas I went to town racing triathlons.

It just so happened that there were slots available for Trail to Ale. We both jumped at the opportunity, and the trash talking began.

Well, guess I needed to put up or shut up.

Race Morning
I woke up early, just like I always do on race morning. I consumed my normal breakfast for race day: rice, eggs, and maple syrup (salt and pepper to taste) with my regular 32 ounces of liquid gold known as iced coffee. I'd estimate it at about 450 calories, for those wondering. (1.25 cups of rice, three eggs, 1 tbsp of syrup, coffee is black.)

I snagged a bottle of water, threw on the Rev3 team kit, and headed on out the door. My weaponry of choice for the day:

• Pearl Izumi Elite Tri Top (Rev3 Kit)
• Pearl Izumi Elite Tri Short (no matter what, I'm wearing tri shorts under my running shorts. Anti-chafe mechanism)
• I forget what running short it was
• Rev3 Black Visor (my favorite one of the visors)
• Tifosi Roubaix sunglasses
• Maine Running Company race number belt
• Swiftwick Aspire One socks, size XL (technically, I should be a L. But I like the slight extra forefoot splay from the size up)
• Pearl Izumi IsoTransition (I switched out the insoles in these to the ones from a pair of Mizuno's, just to give a touch of extra arch height underfoot.)

I had thought about my PowerBar Team Elite arm warmers, but made the call to go without about fifteen minutes before the start.

We met Adam down at the Ocean Gateway terminal. We headed out for a warm-up run of about two miles, just to shake the cobwebs out. I still felt tight, but things seemed to be improving the more I moved. I also did a set of striders, and that's when I felt the best, so I started getting some confidence that I'd be able to run decently.

Made it to the top of the hill at the start line around quarter to 9 (gun time). Ran into fellow MRCers Jon, Joey, Nick, and Maggie, who all were part of the six-pack challenge. Jon and Joey lined up on the start line. Adam, Nick, and I were about four rows back. Maggie was mid-pack.

Everything queued up, the race clock was readied, and we were ready to fly. Weird to not have a countdown to start. Just a runners set, *BOOM*, and time to go!

Race Breakdown: The Quick Hits
Gun Time: 41:15
Net Time: 41:13
Pace: 6:38/mile
Overall Place: 65th
Age-Group Place: 6th
MRC Competition Place: 4th

This year, they moved the course around a little bit at Trail to Ale. It started on top of the Eastern Promenade, went uphill a bit, then screamed downhill towards Back Cove. You completed one lap around Back Cove Trail, then looped back by East End Beach for the finish line.

This meant that you'd start out super fast, have some slight uphill around the Cove at mile 4, then uphill on the I-295 overpass until the end of mile 5, roll by the sewage treatment plant right around the same time you wanted to vomit anyways from the effort and the hill right there, and then have a big downhill to find your stride into the finish.

The gun went off, and immediately Nick, Jon, Joey, and Adam dropped me like a bad habit. I went to keep the gap for the first tenth of a mile. I then tried to take account of how I felt.

Damn, this feels fast! was all I remember thinking. So I glanced at my watch really quickly: 5:22/mi pace.

UH OH.

I immediately backed off the throttle. I couldn't sustain that kind of effort. I might've been able to crank out a mile, mile and a half, and then would have blown up so spectacularly I would've been scattered all over greater Portland.

I settled into a good groove, heard that a couple people around me were looking for around 42 minutes, and just hung in there. Considering all of my speedwork for the year had been focused more for longer distance events, I didn't think anything much faster than 6:50/mile pace would be happening.

Even with me settling in, the first mile went by in 6:11. That's a lot of downhill to work with. OK, no biggie.

Adam was a good 200 meters up the road. I just said to myself, "reel him in, each and every mile. No need to go and get him at mile 2." This was in opposite of our Beach to Beacon experience last year, where I went out and made a move at mile 2, had a lead, and he caught me with less than a mile to go, and we sprinted together for the finish. Later on, Adam told me his game plan was "out of sight, out of mind."

The first water stop was also the last one. I went to reach for water, but they were using the tiny Dixie cups. It just exploded in my hand. Note to self: needed to pinch the cups from the top. Adam was still hauling tail in front of me.

I could still see him as we got into mile 2. The person next to me was saying he didn't see the mile 1 sign before, so he felt really good seeing the two sign early. Works for me!

We made the curve at the soccer fields by Back Cove. I saw that Adam's gap on me had shrunk, so at the turn I counted out his lead: eleven seconds. Cool, I just need to go three seconds a mile faster than him and I can get him around mile 5.5, and may the best man win there.

Apparently, I went through the next mile a bit quicker than he did, as all of a sudden I was right behind him. I panicked for a second: have I gone too early again? I made the call to settle in again, let him lead for a little bit. I don't know if he knew it was me that was five steps behind him, but the pace quickened slightly again.

We ran together for the next mile, him just ahead of me on the right side. We then started a slight rise on the back side of Back Cove, which is about 4 miles into the race. This is where I said, you know, I don't want to turn this into a sprint finish at the end. He's been doing track work all year. He's got better top end speed than me. I need to go here and now.

I swung out a little wide, ran with three strides side-by-side, and then just kicked as we went over the rise and slight downhill. I ran scared; I didn't know where he was and I wasn't looking back. I just wanted to push through this surge. Came through the next water stop, got a quick cup of water, and started plugging away again.

The Cove then rises again. If there's one thing I need to really work on, it's being able to keep top-end speed going uphill. I've gotten better, but there's still room for some massive improvement. It was here that I figured if my move hadn't worked well, Adam was going to catch up again.

There were some friendly faces on the side of the road right here, and they started cheering for me. I kept waiting for them to say something to Adam, but they never did. Huh. He's either the feet right behind me in full on stealth mode, or the move stuck. I fought the urge to look behind me; the course was about to make a hair-pin turn and I'd be able to find out where he was anyways.

I went onto the overpass, trying to ignore my hamstring, which wanted to fall apart. Around the corner I went, and looked up.

Holy shit. He's just cresting! I've got a whole bunch of room!

I threw on the jets then and there. No way was I giving in now.

The course then rounded by the sewage treatment plan, and oh yes, it reeked to high heaven. There's also the last hill of the course to contend with, and the combination is vomit-worthy. I fought back the urge.

Bounding down the hill, I didn't realize that the finishing chute was so short away from there. I kicked as hard as I could. I thought it was further than it was, but hey, whatever! I blasted through the finish line.

Hey, who's that guy in the Rev3 kit who ran that quick?

Boom. Stick.

Adam came across the line 30 seconds later. We had pushed each other to brand new heights: this was nearly a five minute race PR for me (2:35 faster than any 10K I've run, race or training), and a 1:40 PR for Adam.

We had our rear ends handed to us by our co-workers, as Jon ran 36:20, Joey 38:15, Nick 39:45. But hey, a good day all-around.

The reward for such an effort? Free pizza and beer.

Later that day, I really got tired. I mean, nap during football games tired. If you know me, I don't fall asleep when I get the opportunity to watch football. So I was beat. Hence part of the concept of ending the race season here.

I'd like to, as always, thank all of the sponsors, friends, family, etc. that help get me on through!

Great way to cap off a banner year. I've taken an hour off of my half-distance time. I've taken five minutes off my 10K PR. What a season.

What does next year hold? Check back later this week!

The Dreaming Tree

Editorial Note: I'd like to apologize for the lack of blogging around these parts as of late. We've still been having a hell of a time getting any kind of settlement regarding the Great Poo Flood, as I've taken to calling it. So my spare time has been limited to dealing with a lot of insurance companies, in between training and work obligations. 

There are a lot of product reviews that are due in the next couple of weeks: Pearl Izumi Tri Fly IV Carbon bike shoes, Blue Triad EX bike, and a race report from the Falmouth Road Race. Those will all probably appear following Rev3 Maine this weekend.

Before we get going into my mindset heading into Rev3 Maine, I'd like to thank everybody who's been incredibly supportive throughout this adventurous summer. First and foremost, my friends, family, and adoring wife: couldn't do it all without you guys. Secondly, team Rev3: really, I could lump you all into the first category. But I thought you deserved an additional shout-out.

I'd also like to thank all of my sponsors, as you've all been fantastic: Rev3 Triathlon, who I owe an awful lot to; Pearl Izumi; Swiftwick; PowerBar; NormaTec; QuintanaRoo; BlueSeventy; SBR Sports; and I'm probably missing somebody in there somewhere. But I can't thank any of you enough for everything that you've done for me individually, Team Rev3 as a group, and just in general putting out fantastic products that I've had the privilege of using throughout this year. I can only hope that I've been a help in getting the word out about how awesome each and every one of you are.

With that all in mind, here we go.

Race Week. Time to go again.

I've been awaiting this moment for a long time. Probably since the weekend after Rev3 Quassy, I've been wanting to hit a race. But I also knew that I wanted to really peak, and targeted this and Cedar Point as my two biggest races of the year.

As I've been going throughout the year, I've been noticing a massive improvement on my outlook on things, and the corresponding impact on how that outlook has had on my training. Joe Friel advocates an awful lot on each workout having a purpose behind it: whether aerobic endurance, muscular endurance, etc.

I would also posit the theory that there needs to be an additional piece added to each and every thing involved: it needs to be something that you're enjoying doing.

If you aren't enjoying it, why the hell are you beating yourself up doing it? What are you trying to prove? Who are you trying to impress?

There should be only one person that you're trying to impress: yourself. It is your own desire, your own enjoyment of the activity, that should be the reward for what it is that you're attempting. If you lose sight of that, you're just slogging through. You're not gaining anything beyond having spent time outdoors. (Which isn't to say that alone is a bad thing, but just that you need to be having some type of enjoyment of that activity during it.)

Which is to say that, I've been having a hell of a lot of fun out there. I've discovered that the more I'm relaxed, the more smiling I'm doing despite the work I'm doing, the more fun that I'm having, the faster and faster I'm going. It's a bit of a breakthrough, and it's resulting in impressive times during workouts, which is giving me a bunch of confidence heading into Rev3 Maine.

"The Dreaming Tree," by Dave Matthews Band, is allegedly two stories of people suffering through, and their respective lament to God about how "if I had the strength, I would leave you up to your own devices..." But I instead focus on The Dreaming Tree itself.

Chasing my dream of what it is I want out of life has really become a focus this year; understanding who I am, what I do best, and enjoying each and every second of it. I really love my job, and the new activity that I've got there. Training is FUN. I'm learning so much about how my body responds to things, and how to use my mind to help overcome some of the blocks that can come up.

That's the thing that draws me to triathlon, skiing, and what I do for work: they are all incredibly mental by their nature. You really need to THINK, and using your mind you can really excel. I've improved so much in all three things (tri, ski, work) this year and I attribute much of it to my outlook on life itself. Just staying positive, learning from mistakes (and being OK to make said mistakes every once in a while), and keep moving forward.

Jordan Rapp put out a Tweet the other day, which was a quote to a philosopher. Forget who it was, but the quote went something like this:

It is not what we get but what we become by our endeavours that makes them worthwhile.

He was using it in the context of triathletes being able to relate to it. I think anybody can.

So with that, it's time to gear up. Tune things up. Be ready to go. Come Sunday, I'll take everything I've learned and bring it to the course. I've got my dreams. I know what I'm capable of. It's time to be the best that I can be, and see where it lands me.

In effect, it's time to chase the dream again.

2012 Rev3 Quassy HalfRev Race Report

Alternative Title: Leave your legacy through effort.


There is something magical about this place. I don't know if it's the fact that this is the site of my first triathlon, something in the water, or what have you. But there is a special vibe that is alive in Quassy the first weekend of June. You see it on the faces of the volunteers, the workers, the athletes, and the families. It just feels right.


As always with race weekend reports, we'll go through the full run down of pre-race, the race, and post-race moments.

Thursday: The Driving Day
We packed up our car on Thursday morning, knowing that when I got out of work Thursday evening we'd be heading on down to Connecticut. We made the mistake the previous year, as well as Boston this year, of traveling on the 2nd day before the race. It doesn't do much to put my mind at ease when you are doing all that scrambling around, so we decided instead to move travel up an evening. It wound up working perfectly, as we missed a lot of traffic as well as having little to no anxiety about what I needed to do the following day.

Hannah, being the amazing woman that she is, picked me up a burrito from our Whole Foods (mmmm...steak burritos), and away we went on down. We drove to Harem House, the code-name for Sam and Matt's place in Ellington. Sam and Matt are our wonderful friends who put on a phenomenal tailgate at the Hartford Dave Matthews Band shows. We don't see them enough, so we decided to invade their place for an evening. It put us 30 minutes outside of Newington (where we'd be staying for the full weekend), and only an hour from Quassy.

Friday: New Bike Day
Yes, you are reading a race weekend report. And yes, you are reading that correctly.

New Bike Day.

Kermit the Felt unfortunately has two carbon issues; one on a chainstay, the other on the opposing seatstay. I'm guessing that one went first (I'm thinking the chainstay, just based on my estimation of how and why) and the seatstay started to go due to the increased loading. He's heading off for repair soon enough, and when he comes back odds are I will be turning him into an aero road bike.

So, Friday we headed to Thomas and Janet's place in Newington, to invade them for the second weekend in a row. (We stayed with them over Memorial Day weekend.) Why invade again and stay that far outside of the race venue?

Being able to cook your own meals. I am pretty particular when it comes to my food pre-race, so I wasn't about to start changing routine now. So we did our grocery shopping, unpacked a little bit, and then headed on down to Quassy.

We arrived to find things already in full-swing: packet-pickup for the Olympic distance race on Saturday; volunteer check-in; bike racking; expo taking place. Lots of positive and nervous energy from everyone involved. It's electric.

Right out of the gate, started running into some of the Team Rev3 crew. Found Jen Small in the parking lot, Laura Mount patrolling on the golf cart, Alex and Jill Poon at the expo, Jamie Bull and Jaime Dix chatting away...just to name a few instances!

I then ran into Charlie, aka the Boss. We chatted for a few, and then he directed me on over to the Blue Competition Cycles area, where I met Scott. Scott fit me aboard the new whip, tinkering with a few fit parameters, and after a little bit of riding, checking angles, etc., we were done.

Meet Wallace:

Let's get the SlowTwitch joke out of the way: Yes, my seat's too high.

Why Wallace? Well, much like how Kermit was named, it was another one of those things that ties into some back story with my late father-in-law, Peter. A big fan of Wallace and Gromit, one year I drew Peter for Secret Santa. To make a long story short, I got him a gag gift of a Wallace figurine. And considering Wallace is such a cheese fan, and the Blue is yellow...you get the idea.

With that out of the way, we then headed over to the volunteer tent, to get our positions for the following day. Hannah and I were both course marshals for the Olympic. We did this for two reasons: one, to help out for a race series that has done so much for me personally; two, we wanted to get used to the whole "wake up at 0 dark thirty, get on the road to Quassy ASAP" routine.

It was now high time to head on down to the team dinner. We meet up with Ryan, Jamie, Anthony, Elaine, Jordan, and respective significant others at an Italian place in Woodbury. This place has phenomenal pizza. Hannah and I split a clams casino pizza that was divine. It was great to hang out, chat with everybody, get to know these folks that we've been chatting back and forth via e-mail since October, and really just relax.

We headed on back to Newington, and settled on down. Got all of the gear that I would need for the following day packed up, and then crashed for the evening.

Saturday: The Deluge Day
We woke up Saturday morning to discover the skies had opened. It was pouring. As in, it hurt to walk outside pouring.

We somehow managed to convince Thomas that he, too, should volunteer for the Olympic. And it was a good thing; there were spots that needed to be covered! Thomas wound up working transition. We headed over to our location: the exit of the park onto Route 64.

Every single racer would be passing by us three times: once to make the left out onto the bike course; another time taking a right back into transition; and finally, heading out onto the run course. So we were going to need to be loud, enthusiastic, and emphatic.

My goal with this turn was to make sure nobody ate it at the start or the end of their ride. There were a couple of massive potholes concealed by the overnight rain, so we set out a couple of cones heading out of transition. We had our racers head out by keeping the cones to the left of them heading out, ensuring they wouldn't hit this massive hole on the way out and up to a pretty significant hill.

Then, on the way back in, you would descend this very hill before making the hard right into the park again. I decided to sacrifice my own voice for both tasks: I took the lead position out in front of each turn to be able to warn athletes of what was coming. Heading out of town, it was "OUT AROUND THE CONE, THEN LEFT!" Coming down, everyone heard "SLOW! CHECK YOUR BRAKES, DOWN THE HILL, THEN RIGHT!"

It was cold and wet, but we tried to keep it fun. The police officers there were a hoot to chat with. The toughest part was not keeping the athletes on path and upright, but instead making sure the shuttles and pedestrians weren't cutting into where the race was taking place. I got a few glares for asking people to head down the hill to use the crosswalk into the park, but outside of that it was pretty simple to get the task done.

And nobody fell! That was my biggest positive for a job well done: no injuries at our corner. On a day with those conditions, I felt like it was our biggest victory.

After volunteer shifts ended, I made my way around the park again to start my preparations for Sunday. I needed to pick up my packet, get my timing chip settled away, and then see if team kits had made it to the park. I went two for three; unfortunately, no kits made it. But hey, it happens. And I was still rocking the big blue R on my visor; I wore Pearl Izumi's; had my Swiftwick socks;  did a swim test in a blueseventy Helix (amazing!); used PowerBar products; checked out the NormaTec boots (I cannot wait for these...)...all of our sponsors were absolutely fantastic this weekend.

I then set out on a quick pre-race brick: a nice light spin, followed by a quick run involving three pace efforts faster than race pace. I did the spin on the first/last five miles of the bike course, and then the run I did basically mile 9, 12, and 13 of the run course. I just wanted to run recon of knowing where I'd be able to push, when I'd need to settle in, etc.

Once we got Wallace checked into my spot (#950, right by the bike entry/exit, almost next to the pro racks) it was time to head on up to Newington, enjoy my pasta dinner, pack my gear bags, and get ready to go.

Sunday: Game time.
One of the last minute decisions I had made on Saturday night was that I was going to tape a message onto the bike. I opted for two lines: one for pacing purposes, the other from the Ray Lewis video I posted in the pre-race report.

I'm pissed off for greatness.

Hour 1: Easy. Hour 2: Push. Hour 3: GO!

Going into a long-course race on a difficult course, I knew that I was capable of really improving on my 6:14 from the year before. I also knew that it'd be tough to go an hour faster than the year before, but I thought it was within reach. Also knowing with where I was fitness wise, that a 5 hour race was capable if everything went "as planned." Of course, nothing EVER goes to plan in an event like this. So heading out on Sunday, I presumed that my finishing range would be 5:12-5:27.

Heading into transition Sunday morning, I ran into Charlie again.

Charlie: "Hey, where's your race kit?"
Me: *sigh*
Charlie: "KIDDING!"
Me: "You know, I feel really relaxed..."
Charlie: "It's how we roll...got my mind on my money and my money on my mind..."
Me: *laughing*...ah, man...what a weekend.

It was weird; normally on race mornings I am a nervous wreck. But I was focused, calm this year. I had some things to do (threw a cage on the aerobars, rather than on the downtube of the bike; wiped Wallace off, lubed the chain, inflated tires, taped down my message, etc.). My stomach is also normally a nightmare race morning, but it too was calm. 

As I was gearing up, I got a quick tap on my shoulder, asking to use my pump. I turn around and see Tim DeBoom, two-time Ironman World Champion. "Sure! Go right ahead!"

Yes, that really happened. Photo courtesy of Rev3Tri.

(As a side note...he left his crack pipe in my pump. So, Tim, if you're reading this...a mailing address and I can get that back to you.)

Once Tim was done, it was time to pack it all on up, give the last of the unneeded gear to Hannah, and head down to the waterfront for the swim start. Got a quick practice swim in of about 40-50 strokes out and back, just to get comfortable, and be ready for my wave. We were going early this year, so not a super crowd to have to swim through. And then it was go time.

Shuffling on down to the swim start. 1056 athletes hit the water today.

Toes on the water's edge.

One minute. You can hear your heartbeat in your head. Calm. You've been here before.

Thirty seconds. Deep breath. Get your googles on.

Fifteen seconds. You've done the work. Trust it. You got this!

GO!!!

Quick Hits:

5:25:59

17th in AG, 204th Overall

Swim Time: 36:19

Place in Division: 26

It was a quick dash into the water. One of the cool things about Quassy is how quickly the water gets deep. You might dolphin dive twice before you're swimming like hell. 

I sprinted out for the first 200 meters or so, just trying to find a little clear water, but nothing was to be had. I took a foot to the face early that knocked my googles off. Had to take a second to let them settle, and then took off again. The left one never wound up sealing quite right so I was going to contend with a little water in my sight. No matter.

One of the things I had noticed from the beach was that the swim had changed a bit from the previous year; it was much further out to the first turn buoy than it was the year before, then a shorter stretch into the sun before turning back for home. It felt like it was a long, long way. But I felt like I was swimming well; passing many swim caps of the previous waves while not seeing any of the waves coming up through me.

I turned for home and just buried the throttle a little bit. I wanted to try and make sure I was in good position coming into transition. The year before almost all of the bikes in my racking area were already gone by the time I came back. So when I came out of the water, looked at my watch, and saw 36:02 staring me in the face, I could only say one thing:

SHIT!

I sprinted up the hill, grabbed a cup of Gatorade, and got into gear.

T1: 2:51

I had my wetsuit halfway off by the time I had run to my spot in transition. I felt a little bit better when seeing so many bikes still on the rack from my AG. 

I got my wetsuit down to my calves, then used my hand to pull it off over my foot. Helmet had my sunglasses and gel flask in it. Helmet on, shades on, put my bike shoes on. I am piss-poor at performing a flying mount; it's faster for me to run out of transition with the bike shoes on, get over the mount line, get to the side, step over, and clip in once. Two crank revs get me up to enough speed to clip the left one on; quick pedal, and off on the bike course we go!

Bike: 2:46:42, 20.13 MPH

Place After Bike: 9th

As we said before, we had that pacing piece stuck on the bike. Last year's mistakes were not going to be repeated. I also knew that my stomach needed to settle down a little more before starting to hit the nutrition. So for the first 20-30 minutes it was just being smart; don't cook too hard out of the gate. Passed one Rev3 teammate (I think it was Ryan, but not sure...) by the time we hit the first turn, and then just started to settle in.

The first 23 miles of the bike course here roll a fair bit. You also get the steepest climb of the whole day out of the way right quick at about mile 10 or so. So then you just keep rolling along. One thing that I noticed was that the road surfaces were pretty good, with the occasional couple of pieces of glass on the far, far right of the lane. I just kept an eye out for it and made adjustments as necessary. As long as you were about a foot off the edge of the shoulder, you were fine.

You then get an absolutely screaming descent into Thomaston. This is where I had my nutrition issues the year before. Nothing today. Still sipping away on my combination of PowerBar Perform and Gels. I went with two bike bottles mixed to regular concentration (approx. 340 calories combined between the two of them), along with four gels in a flask with a bit of water. I went with three Kona Punch and one Tangerine, just for a mix in the taste as well as a little bit of caffeine. This gave me a total of 780 calories for the ride to use as I saw fit.

I took water at each aid station, with a little bit going into my mouth and then a fair bit over the head and on the legs to make sure we were keeping cool. I was feeling pretty good.

It was at about the hour mark that I finished the descent into Thomaston. A bunch of us reached for nutrition, and I called out, "Let's get it in now, boys, we've got a long climb ahead of us! Time to do some work!" A few of us were ready to start the climbing so we moved ahead, while others were dropping back, either grumbling about the guy in the good mood about the climb, or how they were going to have to run after this.

Miles 23 to 30 of the bike course are pretty unrelenting. This is why I've put in a lot of work going up and over Dutton Hill, or Blackstrap Road, or anywhere else I could find some climbing. I knew I would need it here. My biggest fear was the new gearing on Wallace: he featured an 11-26 cassette, versus the 12-25 that I'd been used to. Would I want those gears that are on the 12-25 that aren't there on the 26?

Nope. The shifting was absolutely flawless. One thing I had to get used to was the heavy action on the SRAM TT900 shifters, and the loud, crisp pop of a shift in the rear. But it worked perfectly. So when we got to climbing, there was no flexing; there was no issue. It was just time to go and put in the work. This was hour two, after all: it's time to make a push.

About halfway up the climb is when fellow Rev3 team member Tim Andrus showed up. This was exactly where I thought he'd get me based on his and my projected swim and bike times. The kit is pretty recognizable, as is his Shiv. As it turns out, Tim's Shiv wouldn't shift at all in the rear. So his choice for gears were either 50/13 or 34/13. Not good on this course!

We had a brief conversation as we climbed together. He started to pull away a touch, and I wished him luck in his race. (He wound up going 4:44, the turd. Guess I need to put in some serious work before Maine.) As soon as it flattened out, he was gone.


I finished the climb up over at mile 30, and started to really feel like I was in a good groove; kept the nutrition flowing, effort still feeling pretty easy. Wanted to keep the effort to a point where it didn't feel like I was pushing all that hard; just a good, comfortable pace that was sustainable. I never really looked at the Garmin; I just used the overall time clock I had on my Timex pushing me a bit.

Miles 35-40 are on an out-and-back stretch. This is where I started to pour it on a little bit. A fellow athlete named Keith and I seemed to keep trading spots back and forth; he'd get away on the downhills and flats, but I'd reel him back in on the uphills. Not because I was pushing the uphills, mind you, but simply due to momentum; he revealed he had 15 pounds on me. It helped keep the pace honest between the two of us, as we'd follow the drafting rules and just keep on moving along. There weren't many athletes near us; just the two of us, trading back and forth in spots. He'd be up for a couple of minutes, then I would be, and vice versa. The drafting official came by us three or four times, and we'd check over, he'd wave on the driver, and away we went. He nailed a pack in front of us about a minute later, though, so drafting was definitely enforced.

At about mile 50 I stomped on the gas. I wanted to get some distance on some people behind me. (As it turns out, Keith was also in my age group. Had I known, I would've mirrored him heading into transition.) Saw fellow Sustainable Athlete Brett Helstedt out on the run already. He was COOKING. (He wound up well under five hours as well.)

I made my way up the hill, got out of my Tri Fly IV Carbon's, and dismounted the bike quickly, and ran into transition again.

T2: 1:57
I made sure to be quick. Re-racked the bike. Got my SwiftWick socks on, and then my shoes. Stuffed my two flasks into my pockets: one full of flat Coke, the other with the same gel combination. Nabbed a water at the first aid station, and was running with my race number belt, putting it on as I went. Time to move!

Run: 1:58:10 (8:48/mile)
Position: 17th in Age Group
I blew out of transition, feeling really good. I wanted to get out of there with some good miles under my belt at a comfortable pace. The last few runs I had done I'd been averaging well under 7:30 pace off the bike, so I wanted to try and run about 7:50 here.

I wound up blowing through the first 5K in 21:40. Oops.

I had frozen my Coke flask overnight in the hopes that when I picked it up for the run, it'd still be cold. Not so. It was hot, hot, hot. Not good. I was also trying to take in the gels and my stomach had had enough of that. At the third aid station I dumped both of the flasks. No point.

So I was going to hit every aid station, go for Coke and water, and just go like hell when I could. The problem, of course, is not being a great running climber. It's frustrating, because you see these people making these hills out to be nothing, where it feels like you are stuck in quicksand. This isn't a "you overcooked the bike" thing, because even when completely fresh running hills is problematic. I'm just not quite there yet. I will get there.

Anyways, I knew I had banked some reserve time up with the way I ran the first few miles. So the middle miles, when it was so tough climbing, I tried to just preserve my legs for the forthcoming downhills, flats, and the monster that is the last mile. I made sure I got my nutrition in. I made sure to get myself cooled off. I saw some 25-29 legs go by, but I also knew I'd be able to reel a couple of them back in later on.

Still, my stomach wasn't happy with me. As we came down past the Nelson "HA HA!" sign (yes, Charlie actually put that sign out there on one of the tough hills...sick man, he is), I was having to fight back a little vomit. I just needed to keep going.

Coke. Water. No more Gatorade. No more gels.

I figured it out on Tranquility Road that the best thing for me was to take water at the first spot, tear it open, get some on me, grab a Coke at station three, water it down which also eliminated any remaining carbonation, get it down, splash a little water in my mouth, rinse, dump rest on body, and go.

As we came back onto Route 64 I ran into Scott, who had fit me for the bike on Friday. We chatted for a minute, and then I pulled away. I was still moving, and moving well. Sure, some were passing me, but I was passing others, too. And I wasn't seeing any more 25-29 calves coming up behind me; instead, I was nicking one or two off. And see, I even looked pretty good, especially compared to last year in this same spot:

Keep running, fool. Four miles. Four measly miles.

The worst part of this course, IMO, is not the last hill. No, it is the out and back you have to do before you get to go up that hill. It's hard to have to be going out that far, and knowing that you have to go back and run that same aspect again. I think it'd be mentally less challenging to not have to do that loop so late in the game. But, it's that challenge that is part of the experience.

Last aid station I got my little bit of calories in, and it was time to go. Make the move. Leave your legacy through effort. I'm pissed off for greatness. I saw at the last aid marker that I was at 5:17 total time. I made the call there that I would not let that watch see 5:26. So I had 9 minutes to make that climb happen, and sprint it on home.

The climb is gentle slope at first, and then it turns, gets steep, and then flattens out as you head back to Quassy. I took it easy at the start, made it halfway, gave it more gas, felt I had more to give, and then just stomped on it. I was GOING. And there was no way in hell anybody else was getting past me.

It was hellacious footing coming down the finishing chute due to all of the rain from the day before. But it made it fun coming home.

Watch stopped: 5:25:59. Made it.

Remember, the time above my head is time from the pro start...so not my time.
But man, oh man, is it awesome to get over that line...

Glory. There is nothing, NOTHING like finishing a race like this.

Post-Race
I met up with Tim, Anthony, and Ryan...sounded like everyone had had a good race. I needed to lie down and cool off a bit more, so I headed for the picnic tables in the shade. I changed out of my racing gear, and got into some clean clothes. After hanging around the expo for a bit, we said our goodbyes and headed on out.

We picked everything up, got into the car, and away we went. The car ride did NOT. FEEL. GOOD. Stomach was still pretty unhappy with me. We got to Newington, and as we were headed inside I felt that familiar, "Yep, you're not going to like this" moment from my stomach. I made it to the sewer grate before promptly vomiting out the combination of Coke, Perform, and whatever else was in my stomach.

No, I didn't take photos. But it did happen.

I immediately felt about 20 times better. We hung out for a bit, got some dinner (my traditional entire pizza, order of wings, and cheesy bread consumed). We had to pack the car, and somehow manage to get two bikes, and all our luggage, inside our car.

Two bikes. four suitcases, four other bags. SUCCESS!

We then drove home, listening to the Celtics win, and I got my beer when we got home.

Conclusion
Overall, I am incredibly happy with how this weekend went.

First and foremost, I can't believe I'm a part of such a caring, welcoming organization. It's truly an honor and a privilege to be representing Rev3, Pearl Izumi, NormaTec, blueseventy, PowerBar, Blue Cycles, SwiftWick, SBR Sports...I'm incredibly grateful. And to all of my teammates, some of whom I didn't even get to meet when we were here! Guess I'll have to see some of you here in Maine! (And yes, we still have space available if you want it...)

Secondly, I need to thank my coach, Doug, for putting in my in a position to shave 49 minutes off of my previous time here. 49 MINUTES. That's insane. In one year!

Thirdly, to my lovely wife: gosh, I can't believe you put up with me...you have by far a tougher job and you do such an amazing job at it. I love you.

As for the race itself: well, to put that time together is a feat, me thinks. I know that there's still work to be done. But I am damn proud of executing that race the way I wanted to. I put it together. I had a complete race. The chips fell where they did. I couldn't have gone any faster on Sunday than I did. Which means I left all my effort out there. I'm feeling it, too: sleeping 9-10 hours each night. I earned that time.

Damn, what a rush. Can't wait to do it again.