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.

One Crappy Day

Stepping away from product reviews for a few minutes...

Things have been going extremely well around these parts. Almost too well. My sneaking suspicion had been something would wind up taking us down a peg or three soon. Typically, that's something easy like Sallie Mae wanting some student loan money. You know, hard at the time, but in the grand scheme of things nothing all that bad.

Well, my instinct was right. It was just the scale that was wrong.

On Tuesday evening, one of our upstairs neighbors knocked on our door. This was unusual if only because we all tend to keep to ourselves and it was 9 PM. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hey, what's up?
Jon (neighbor): Have you been downstairs lately?
Me: No, why?
Jon: Your storage unit faces Brighton Ave, right?
Me: Yes. (sense of dread building).
Jon: You're going to want to go downstairs.
Me: Why, what's going on?
Jon: Fishman (property managers) were downstairs, found some nasty stuff in my storage. They couldn't get a hold of you to check on yours, so I said I'd tell you.
Me: Alright...I'll check.
Jon: Just, don't shoot the messenger when you get down there.

That never sounds promising, but I still held out hope that it couldn't be that bad.

I was wrong.

Yes, that is all what you think it is.

Almost half a foot deep across the majority of our storage unit was a putrid mess. The stench was horrifying. And it covered everything in its path.

I'll save you the pictures of how it covered all of the stuff that was down there. Out of everything that we had in the storage unit, only our Christmas stuff and a set of snow tires survived.

*************
Now, here's the thing: I don't like asking for help. I hate asking for help. I'm a "pull yourself up from your bootstraps" kind of guy. I'd rather look around for something on my own, not ask for directions, etc. You know the drill. Typical "I know better and will figure it out!" male.

We lost everything. My brewing kit (apologies to the Team Rev3 mates, but there's no way in hell I can make that Revolution Rye Pale Ale now), bottles, sports equipment, electronics, all my old law notebooks (we might consider that a plus...depending on how much sarcasm I'm feeling at a particular moment), some old photos, on and on...

My insurance is not covering the losses, as this is considered a "flood." One could make the argument that sewage does not equal a flood, but knowing my insurance law like I do (hey, that law degree does pay off!), I'm not going to win that battle. As an aside: do you think I just added flood insurance to my policy? If you just nodded your head, congratulations: you're correct. No prizes, though, because...

We can't replace anything that we lost. Nothing. There's just no way for us to do it.

I don't know what exactly it is I'm asking for. Whether that's sympathy, help re-building what it is we lost, or what. I just know one thing: we can't do it alone.

**************
I want to take a time-out to thank the folks at Fishman, our property managers, for doing the best they can with this; our landlord, Jon, who's been checking in with us to see what the situation was; and Greg over at the Bier Cellar, who helped pick out some killer brews to help dull the ache of yesterday.

Today was "throw everything out" day, and was the first time I really lost it. In some cases there's 15-20 years of life that just, quite literally, got crapped on. It's heartbreaking to have things you worked so hard for to have to be tossed into a dumpster, never to be seen again.

We'll be OK, eventually. Just really not sure how to get there.

Gear Review: blueseventy Helix Wetsuit

Wetsuits are one of the larger gear investments a budding triathlete can make; behind a bike and/or race wheels (if, of course, you fall into USAT's median income range of approximately $108,000), it is likely a wetsuit will be your most expensive piece of gear.

With that kind of money on the line, then, it stands to be prudent when it comes to selection. Much like when it comes to proper triathlon bikes and running shoes, fit comes first. Then you can start worrying about the features of a particular suit versus another. This means that if you are part of the crowd screaming, "I can only wear a sleeveless," it is more likely that you either have an abnormally shaped torso (there are indeed certain people who just can't fit into a sleeved suit), or you have never had a sleeved suit that fit you properly.

But, what if you enjoy the feel of the water against your arms, or simply prefer a thinner feel to the sleeves of the suit? Most wetsuit companies really build up the forearms of their suits to create catch panels, with the theory that they will help move more water.

Enter the blueseventy Helix.

blueseventy Helix Men's 2012 Wetsuit. (image courtesy of blueseventy).

The Tech Babble
Wetsuits, at their core, have been using the same kind of material for decades: neoprene. Regardless of brand or fit, you'll be buying a suit made of this material, much like how in running shoes, you'll for the most part be buying an ethylene vinyl acetate product.

Neoprene, due to its smoothness, helps reduce drag in the water. However, because there are air molecules trapped in the rubber (much like how air molecules trapped in the midsole of a running shoe provide the cushioning), the air helps to provide lift, and therefore buoyancy.

Of course, having a whole bunch of rubber surrounding your skin in the water also helps keep you warm. Too warm, in some instances. This is why there are temperature cut-offs for wetsuits: because you run the risk of severe overheating if the water temperature is high to begin with. The suit will only make it warmer! For Rev3 events, the water temperature cut-off for awards is 78 degrees; nobody is permitted to wear a wetsuit when the water is warmer than 84 degrees. For those planning on racing say, Rev3 Maine or Rev3 Cedar Point with me: I think we have nothing to worry about. We'll be wearing wetsuits.

There is also a limit to the thickness of the wetsuit: 5 millimeters at its maximum. This is, again, to limit overheating due to the suit being too thick, and also too much buoyancy help from a wetsuit. As it is, wearing a suit with 5 millimeter thickness is impossibly buoyant; you basically need only scull with your pinkies in order to stay afloat.

That is not to say, though, that all suits with 5 millimeter thickness in them are made the same. Nor should all of the suit necessarily be made to this thickness; sure, we want the buoyancy, but we also need to be able to move in the suit! If you can't move your arms well enough to take an effective swim stroke, then you haven't made any sort of improvement by putting on a wetsuit.

Furthermore, although buoyancy can help out any swimmer, there are different types of buoyancy needed for different people. If you are like most triathletes who come from a cycling or running background, the mass will be in your legs, and you have a difficult time raising the hips to avoid the dreaded "swimming uphill" position: pushing water down with your torso, legs behind you sinking towards the bottom. However, if you have more of a swimming background, your body positioning tends to be better; you want the suit to give you some of the sleekness and buoyancy, but to some degree get out of the way.

blueseventy, named for the fact that water (blue) covers seventy percent of the Earth's surface, recognized this as well. There are two product ranges that blueseventy manufactures: the neutral buoyancy line, and the positive buoyancy line. The neutral buoyancy products are thicker in the torso and core, whereas the positive buoyancy suits focus more on buoyancy through the core, hips, and legs, much like swimming with a permanent pull buoy.

The Helix slats in as the top-of-the-line neutral buoyancy suit. It tiers the maximum thickness of the suit as 5-5-4, with the first section through the torso, the middle section as the core and hips, and the final section throughout the legs. So, the legs are a touch thinner than the top two sections. This isn't to say that they will sink when in the water; instead, blueseventy's research suggests that because the legs are constantly in motion (read: work on your kick, buster, because you're supposed to be kicking in a triathlon swim...), this thickness provides the best balance of buoyancy and freedom of motion.

The core and hips are also constructed slightly differently from the torso. The suit features what are called Aerodome panels in the midsection. Remember above how we talked about the rubber having air molecules trapped in the matrix? Well, increase the volume of those air molecules, and you have Aerodome: same thickness, more buoyancy. This is to help promote that downhill swimming position.

But what of the arms and shoulders, the part of the suit that makes people cringe? This is where blueseventy takes a completely different course as compared to other suit manufacturers. Most suits will feature a butterfly panel, opening up the shoulders and arms, before building to large "catch panels" in the forearm, designed to help move more water during the swim stroke. The problem? These catch panels also create drag in the water, particularly if you have a longer glide before initiating the pull. Also, if you don't get the suit just right in the shoulder, it will feel as if it is pulling down on the arm.

blueseventy's solution? Let's go all minimal up top! The suit has some of the butterfly in the shoulder and back, with 2 millimeter thickness there. But then there are 1.5 and 1 millimeter panels all throughout the arms. And they're not even neoprene; it's fabric! The result: supreme freedom of motion. But it also can help out from a form standpoint; it will allow you to take that swim stroke you've been honing in the pool and bring it directly into the open-water; no form modifications necessary. This can help reduce injury-risk, but also increase awareness of what is working and what's not working; it's easy to make modifications in technique when the suit is so flexible.

The Helix was designed with triathlete's in mind, as there are some answers to common problems that we tend to face. Take, for instance, the run into the water for beach starts, or the run from the water to transition. The Helix has a thinner panel behind the knee to allow you to be able to run easily with the suit on. Also, the zipper works in reverse: when putting the suit on, it zips from the neck down. To remove, pull the cord up. This makes sure that if somebody gets a hold on that pull cord during the course of the swim, it's not pulling the zipper down off your suit and letting a whole bunch of water in.

The Swim: How's It Work
This suit is FAST. As in, holy crap.

As we reviewed before, I swam in the Orca Sonar last season, and another Orca suit for part of the year this year. You would think that, being 6'3" and 158 lb., I would fit well into a suit that is pretty narrow.

And you'd be wrong: the Orca line is designed with folks who fit onto the Felt's and Cervelo's of the bicycle world in mind: long torso, shorter to average length legs. I am, of course, built the opposite way: super long legs, next to no torso. To give you an idea, when doing the Rev3 Maine bike course preview with Jen Small, her response to attempting to draft off of me while on board Wallace the Blue: "You're all legs! No draft comes off of you!"

So, in other words: the Orca line was a poor match. It resulted in some shoulder impingement, simply because I could never get the suit's torso to really match up. Orca also was a little narrower in the shoulders and chest overall. In sum: I should've gone with something different.

This is the suit.

First off, the rubber in this suit simply works. To test it out for yourself, just go for a standard beach start, run in, dive in (please, in a familiar area where you know where you won't hit your head...), and just take off.

You are GONE.

Seriously, this thing just up to speed wants to stay up at speed. And you feel that speed, too. If this is the first time you've worn a wetsuit, the phrase "this is cheating" will probably come to mind. And that's OK. It's not cheating. But it is speedy!

As you start moving into your swim stroke, you'll notice how easy it is to keep your hips high in the water. One thing that I noticed was that this suit really likes to have your head "buried," so to speak: relax your neck to allow your chin to point towards your chest. It really gets you into that downhill swimming position. The two panels on the sides of the front chest will also prevent you from jacknifing at the midsection while you turn to breather, giving you a much more effective position and forcing you into proper torso rotation.

Your legs will float behind you, but again due to some of the torso panels you will have less of the fishtail action that is incredibly common in poorer swimmers (often due to core strength issues). It's really attempting to streamline you and move you towards the direction that you want to be moving in.

And then the arms: what a difference! You really get a good idea as to where you are in the swim stroke, and also knowledge of how small changes in turnover rate and forearm placement will impact your speed in the water. It's incredible how flexible and easy it is to move in this suit. For those who have shorter torsos and have had issues with sleeved suits in the past, stop looking. Go try on a Helix.

For the rest of us, this suit will really make some improvements for you. It is a blazing fast suit that, considering the attention to small details, really pays off in the end. I couldn't be happier to have found this suit out. It makes me a better swimmer.

And when you're paying for a wetsuit, isn't that what we're looking for?

Retail: $649.99
Rental at Rev3 Events Available for $75

Shoe Review: Pearl Izumi isoTransition

I've been a bad, bad product reviewer.

Two months have passed since our last gear test around the CtB offices (the SwiftWick Aspire sock review). Far, far too long.

As a make-up, though, we'll be featuring at least a product review a week for the remainder of July. There's a lot to get through: Pearl Izumi Tri Fly Carbon IVs, blueseventy Helix wetsuit, Blue Triad EX,  XPS Baking Company X-Series Cookies, as well as this review here.

So, let's get down to business, shall we?

Men's Pearl Izumi isoTransition

The Tech Babble
The first thing that generally comes to mind when you think "Pearl Izumi" is cycling, and for good reason: together with parent company Shimano, PI covers 85% of the market. To put that in perspective, the current leader in the running footwear business (Brooks) has a market share of 18%. It's a staggering number!

To no surprise, as triathlon took off Pearl Izumi went headfirst into it, creating numerous apparel and cycling shoe options. And options they have: three different product lines for apparel, three distinct options on the cycling shoe front.

However, PI's running shoes have always left something to be desired. My first experience with PI's running product line came in the form of the original SyncroSeek trail shoe. It's a shoe that makes my top 5 list of worst running shoes ever: heavy as a brick, ran a full size and a half small, and had absolutely no arch in it to speak of. It felt like PI had decided to take one of their mountain biking shoes, slapped a midsole and outsole on it, and called it good.

Not a good first impression. Hello, blacklist.

Thankfully, PI learned from these mistakes. The isoTransition still runs a little short on length, but there is an arch on the inside of the shoe, thanks to the OrthoLite insole. OrthoLite was once used by Nike and Saucony, respectively, for their insoles to their running product line.

The overall theme to the PI product line is what they call 1:1. This is, in their terms, trying to make the athlete and gear one and the same; a mating of the two that is completely natural. PI's big technology hallmark, at least for this particular shoe, is their seamless upper. There are no interior seams anywhere on the shoe. Less seams, of course, should mean less blistering, as there are fewer friction points on the interior of the shoe.

Cushioning comes from a midsole constructed solely from PI's proprietary blend of EVA. No gel pods, no Syncro cradles, no nothing extra. This is a "I'll take my meat and potatoes, thank you very much, nothing else" shoe. Don't take that as meaning that it's under-cushioned; it's just that the shoe is extremely reliant on the ability of the foam to handle the task at hand. Midsole stack heights are 19 millimeters in the heel, 10 millimeters in the forefoot, for an offset of 9 millimeters.

Drainage holes are cut through the bottom of the shoe; this has an unintended consequence which we'll get to during the running section. To complete the shoe, there is an integrated bootie tongue and elastic laces. Total weight for the shoe in a men's size 9 is 7.8 ounces; of course, my size 13 boats weigh in slightly heavier.

The Run
Well, congratulations, Pearl Izumi: you're off my blacklist.

Popping these on, the first thing you notice is, much like the K-Swiss Kwicky Blade Light, is what's not there, rather than what is: there's no impinging seams. There's no pressure points. Instead, you have a shoe that hugs around the foot before opening into a wider toebox to promote forefoot splay. It's comfortable in the same way that, say, walking around in a slide sandal is comfortable: there's only one piece really holding onto your foot, and then the rest of your foot may do as it pleases.

The isoTransition is a neutral shoe, which usually would be bad news for this esteemed author. However, there's some natural stability built in here. Some of that comes from the lowered offset and the natural splay of the forefoot (the wider your toes may spread, the larger the "tripod" your foot can become and be naturally stable). But it also comes from a relatively rigid midfoot region. A small bridge exists only on the medial side of the shoe, giving it additional structure here. It's just enough to allow me to run in it without any type of additional support. I think the best corollary might be some of your structured neutral shoes, a la Asics Nimbus: even though it's neutral, there's just a touch of stability available to those who need it.

There's some serious cushioning underfoot, especially for something with only 10 millimeters of cushioning in the forefoot. The foam has some bounce to it; I'm guessing there's a bit more rubber in the blend of EVA that Pearl Izumi engineered. But the energy return does not come at the cost of pure protection from the road. This is, in my opinion, the result of the drainage holes cut underfoot: it allows the shoe a little bit more room to spread out upon impact, dispersing energy away from the foot.

These holes also make the shoe incredibly flexible in the forefoot. This is good for someone like myself, who has an inherent lack of flexibility in my big toe: I have a hard time with shoes that are very stiff in the forefoot and getting them to respond in sync with my foot. This, on the other hand, is very easy to pick up and go.

Varying stride lengths, it seems like this is a shoe that wants a pretty high cadence. Unsurprising, given some of the athlete's that Pearl Izumi has on the roster: Tim DeBoom and Cait Snow both run with very, very high cadences. Quick turnover really makes this shoe come alive with it's mix of cushioning and energy return.

I have yet to test the drainage on the shoe, as I haven't raced in them yet and that's generally the only time you'll see me dumping gallons of water over my head. But I believe it's safe to say that it will be pretty effective, given that there is drainage from heel to toe.

Overall, it's a great riding shoe for those who like a bit more of a responsive feel underfoot, but don't want to be penalized for doing so. It's a nice mix of road feel, isolation, and fit.

It's more than a triathlon shoe: it's a great running shoe.

Rev3 Maine Bike Course Review

Living in Portland gives me a bit of an advantage when it comes to Rev3 Maine: I can head out onto some part of the course, whenever I want. It's just a short drive from Portland down to Old Orchard Beach, so I can swim, ride, or run the course whenever I find the time.

It just so happens that an opportunity arose to do a full bike course recon-mission with fellow Team Rev3 athlete Jen Small and a small group of recruited help. We rode the whole course at some point during the day; we actually started and finished in Saco, just outside of Old Orchard Beach.

I'm breaking this review up into the mileage for the actual bike course, and not the mileage the way that we rode the course.

Miles 0-3: Heading out of Town
This is probably the worst of the roads that you'll face all day, starting about a mile out of transition until you get to Route 1. By this, I mean it's a little pockmarked, but overall very much rideable and easy to find a clean line. It's gently rolling and generally well-shaded, so it's a good place to settle down from the swim and get ready for the work to come. Because trust me: there is work to come.

Miles 3-10: Working Time
This is where the course starts to really coming into it's own. We rode on a relatively hot day, with a decent amount of wind. You start off with a pretty flat section, minus the overpass over Interstate 95. Then you begin some of the turning on the course, as well as the starting of the rolling hills of Maine.

Here's the thing: when you hear "flat," if you are from, say, Kansas, this course will come as a shock to you. If you live in Montana, then this'll be considered pancake-flat. For the rest of us, I think the most apt descriptor would be "rolling." This course isn't like Rev3 Quassy, which is a beast to climb. But what it will do is separate those who can use their shifting to their advantage and those who attempt to go at courses with the idea of smashing it.

This course will fight back. Roads are gentle through this section, but the exposure means little reprieve if the sun is intense as well as getting to know the wind. Most of this section is parallel to the coast, so it is most likely this section should be crosswind come race day.

Miles 10-15: Route 5
It's probably the busiest stretch of road on the entire course, so if you are thinking of pre-riding, I would highly recommend a group environment in order to be visible. This road has heavy truck traffic, as a lot of farmland and construction calls this stretch of road home.

As such, it's prudent to ride in the shoulder. Expect a headwind heading away from the coast. This also features the first real climb of the course, a gentle slope heading for about a third of a mile.

Miles 15-25: The Bottom of "The Square"

Rev3 Maine Bike Course Map, courtesy of Rev3Tri

One of the more intriguing sections of this course is this "square." This is the lower left-corner of the map above on the bike course.

This square encompasses miles 15 to 35 of the course. The bottom end here turns left from Route 5, heading south, before heading for a right to Lyman and Waterboro.

The most scenic section of the course, this features some beautiful ponds, rolling farmland, and some stonework that screams "classic New England." It's probably the one section of road that makes me think of Rev3 Quassy, and some of the climbing to be done there. There's some uphill here. Nothing too severe, nor too long, but it exists. Those who can spin efficiently will be rewarded.

The back half of this ten mile stretch allows you to really open things up a little bit, as you get the downhill from a lot of that climbing that had been done, as well as some smooth pavement.

Miles 25-33: The Top of the Square
Fastest section of the course by far. According to my Garmin data, this is where I hit top speed, as well as the fastest ten-mile stretch of the day.

Do not think that it will be easy, though; far from it. This section of road moves roughly parallel to the wind, so expect some cross-breeze. This turns into a tail wind when you turn back onto Route 5, but this means that you need to be comfortable moving at a high rate of speed with a pretty stiff breeze trying to knock you on your rear. Bike handling skills and core stability work would be wise additions to your training schedule if you are not already incorporating them.

That said, those who are comfortable can just let 'er rip. There's a small false-flat uphill just before you get back onto 5, but outside of that this is flat to slightly downhill and really, really fast.

Be aware, though, that at the end of the square you'll have a very sharp left to head out onto Route 35 for the next stretch of road. You'll be flying at this point, so be ready to scrub some speed stat.

Miles 33-40: I Thought This Course Was Flat?
Again, it's not flat.

With that out of the way, this part of the course is pretty gentle throughout. Never any hills that should have you concerned if you regularly do some climbing repeats, or have raced at Quassy, this year's Portland bike course, etc.

Be prepared for another decent gust of wind when you hit Route 202 by Hollis. It quickly turns into a tail gust as you turn, and you can really fly down towards the next turn. It's easy to get into a rhythm here. Those who rode a little conservatively on the front side of the course will be able to really let things fly here.

Miles 40-44: Simpson Road
Here is the stretch of road that will eat those who rode too hard out of the gate alive. There's some climbing to be done here. It has the steepest hill of the day. Depending on how many matches you will have burnt by this point, it will be wise to carry a decent granny gear here. I rode pretty comfortably on a 11-26 cassette (53/39 standard crank), but depending on what you typically respond best to I would not be surprised to see a few compact cranks or 27 tooth cassettes.

Miles 44-51: Headed for Home
Time to hit the gas and stay on the pedal: get the calories in, do some work, and get ready to run. Mentally, this stretch is daunting because you have a few turns to navigate, and you've done some of the hardest work already. But you need to have left something for this stretch of road. It'll be very easy to wind up riding too easily here if you lose mental focus. Don't.

At this point, it's also good to start thinking about the run: keep active shifting in mind. Two seconds to let yourself come into transition with fresh legs will be well worth it, so if you find yourself grinding on the pedals, let up on the gearing. A good rule of thumb: if the muscle tension feels "perfect," it's probably one gear harder than the one you want to be in at this point.

Miles 51-56: Back to Old Orchard Beach
This sees you repeat the first five miles that we had talked about before: pretty smooth sailing, straight-forward direction. There's nothing to really bite you hard here, so it'll be good to spin out the legs a touch and get ready for the run.

Overall
I think this course is going to be very rewarding for those who focus on spin efficiency: proper gearing, good aero position, smooth-riding. Those who try instead to will the course into submission will be found survival slogging the run. It is quick; total ride time for the course was 2:44:09. (I raced Quassy in 2:46 as a point of reference.) But I think that's from riding smarter, and not harder.

It's gorgeous scenery, as smooth of a set of roads as you'll find in the state, and challenging. You can't ask for much more out of a bike course. I look forward to racing it in August.

Staying Safe: Cyclists and Drivers

Last month, I put up a survey regarding road safety for cyclists and drivers.

That post was inspired by my third "close call" of the year while riding. I was riding on Baxter Boulevard here in Portland, in the dedicated cycling lane. I was coming back into town from Veranda Street. A car made a left turn into the parking lot for Payson Park, pulled a U-turn, and came directly back out into the travel lane.

Which, if you get the hint of this story, would mean he was directly turning into my path. I swerved far left, but he kept moving out further and further into the lane. I slammed on the brakes, prayed I wouldn't eat asphalt, yelled out for him to stop. I managed to not eat it. He managed to not stop and stomped on the accelerator away. A bunch of pedestrians came over, made sure I was OK, and went on with their day.

I don't begrudge that driver; everybody makes mistakes while driving. If I were a car, the result would've been an accident; he just didn't look. Or didn't judge my speed. Or...

At the end of the day, it didn't matter that I was a cyclist, or a runner, or a vehicle. It was the lack of attention or clear judgment that was the issue.

This is why that survey was created: to see what kinds of responses I would get in terms of awareness, judgment, and knowledge of the rules of the road. I biased the questions towards the state of Maine, simply because it's where I ride.

The questions, for those that were wondering, were as follows:

• According to Maine state law, a cyclist must ride where?
• A cyclist is considered a _______ for traffic law purposes:
• To legally pass a cyclist, a driver must give this amount of room on the road:
• When approaching a stop sign or a red light, a cyclist is to:
• Which statement best describes a typical day of driving: "It was unusual because there were a lot of cyclists on the road today" -or- "It was unusual because there were no cyclists on the road today."
• What kinds of roads do you find unfit for cyclists?
• If a driver has a right-of-way in a particular traffic situation, and a cyclist approaches, what should the driver do?
• What changes to the law, or best practices, would best improve conditions for both cyclists and drivers.
• Have you, as either a driver or a cyclist, had a close call situation? If yes, describe.
• Additional feedback, if seen fit.

The Correct Answers
Please remember that these are only for the state of Maine.

According to 29-A §2063(2), a cyclist is to ride as far to the right as is practicable, except when it is unsafe to do so, or when necessary to avoid hazardous conditions. Hazardous conditions include avoiding glass, potholes, other cyclists, pedestrians, parallel parked vehicles, or if the lane does not include enough width for a vehicle or a cyclist to safely occupy the same lane. This is often why you will see cyclists not on the shoulder of the road, even if the road has a substantial width to that shoulder: if it's not safe, a cyclist will move out further into the lane of travel. Correct responses: 81.8%.

For traffic law purposes, according to §2063(5), a cyclist has all the rights, duties, and considerations as a motor vehicle, unless otherwise excepted. Correct responses: 81.8%

To legally pass a cyclist, a driver is required to give a MINIMUM of three feet to pass a cyclist. This is codified in §2070(1-A). A driver may only pass is a no passing zone when it is safe to give this amount of room to the cyclist. This is a relatively new change to the law, enacted in 2009. Correct responses: 81%.

As talked about above in §2063(5), a cyclist has all the same duties as a motor vehicle. So if you're coming to a stop sign or a red light, you must stop, just like you would in a car. This does not mean "roll through." This does not mean, "well, I'm taking a right hand turn, so I'll just keep going." This means you STOP. Sure, it's going to take an extra 15 seconds for you to accelerate back up to speed. But it's what needs to be done to keep you safe out there! Correct responses: 95.2%.

Drivers: when you have the right of way, and a bike approaches, you still have the right of way. Although I appreciate you trying to be nice by letting me go ahead of you, etc. I don't know what the car behind you is going to try and do. He may try to swerve around, wondering why you aren't going anywhere. Predictability in your actions are the key to keeping everyone safe. Correct responses: 90.9%.

The Opinion Questions
To be honest, this was the part of the survey that I was most interested in: to see what people had to say in regards to what kinds of roads they felt were unsafe, close calls, and what to do to help keep people safe.

There was a small, yet very vocal, contingency that would like to see bicycles only on dedicated pathways or for there to be taxes levied against cyclists in order to be on the roads. This was attempted previously, as I wrote about in this piece on this blog. In 2011, House Proposal 880 would have instituted an additional 2% sales tax on bicycles, for the purpose of establishing bikeways. Bikeway, though, meant "for use by cyclists and pedestrians." It received death by committee last May with a unanimous "ought not to pass" vote.

What of pedestrians on roadways? Are they, too, not paying their own way to be out on the roads? Where is the public outcry against runners or walkers on the shoulders of roads? How is riding a bike different? As somebody who drives, rides, runs, and walks on many of the same paths and roads...I would rather pay more as a driver to help subsidize healthy activities like cycling, running, and walking. And then try to make those activities as safe as we can on public roads.

Both cyclists and drivers alike have had their fair share of close calls. Awareness of the laws, on both sides, is imperative. Cyclists: do what you can to be predictable in your actions. Give hand signals. Don't act like a squirrel. Be visible. Be bright. Drivers: know the rules to pass a cyclist. Personal pet peeve: do not, do not, do NOT pass me to then make a right hand turn in front of me. Odds are I will be introduced to your bumper. I can't stop that quickly, especially on downhill slopes. Give us a fighting chance here.

I think the most telling response of all was to the "which best describes your day of driving" question. The majority of responses said that "it was unusual because there were a lot of cyclists on the road today." This means that, much like this piece on Slowtwitch noted, it is still unexpected to see a cyclist out on the roads. That's problematic when you're trying to keep everybody safe when you don't expect to see a person out there riding; you don't know how to react.

Which leads me back to the original point of awareness and paying attention: please, be aware that cyclists are out there. Cyclists, be aware that you're responsible, too. You're not entitled to act as you please out there; you're still bound by the law, too. But when you're riding within the rules of the road, you should have an expectation that drivers will take care of you, too: offering the same amount of respect as they would owe to a fellow driver.

And finally: we are all people. We make mistakes. We screw up. Drivers are going to occasionally forget to look. Cyclists are going to occasionally jump out into the road when surfaces change abruptly (I'm looking at you, Route 115 in Yarmouth.) It doesn't make either party an asshole. It means they made a mistake. Forgive a little bit. If you get to have a conversation with them about it, it helps make everybody aware. But we've all got families; we're all just trying to make it home to them. And remembering that, no matter what we're doing, will go a long way.

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.