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.

If Tomorrow Wasn't Promised, What Would You Give for Today?

This video's been making the rounds over at Slowtwitch, following Jordan Rapp's disclosure that it helped propel him to his victory at Ironman Texas a couple of weeks back. Go ahead, watch it. I'll wait.

...

...back yet?

So, I've been thinking a lot about this speech as we go into race week again here, with the Rev3 Quassy half on Sunday. And particularly these couple of lines from Mr. Lewis:

Leave your legacy. And it is found through effort. Wins and losses come a dime a dozen. But effort? Nobody can judge effort.

Effort. It's the one thing that is controllable. Other variables will stand in the way, whether we are talking about racing or life in general: the decisions of others; the circumstances that will arise; varying conditions throughout the day, week, etc.

But your effort? Well, you can always give effort. You can always pour your heart and soul into something, give every fiber of your existence to what it is you are trying to accomplish. Whether that will translate into something greater than that is, often times, beyond your control: in racing, your best effort may not result in a high finish simply due to genetics, training volume, injuries, and others; in life, you may still fail in an endeavor because you did not have sufficient knowledge, circumstances beyond your control, etc. But you can always be proud of what you DID accomplish, which comes through how much you give.

This is much like being able to step into the proverbial pain cave: are you going to be willing to suffer, to push yourself to your limits, to not falter despite your body telling you, please, please no. You'll need to soldier on, no matter how hard it is, in order to give your best effort on that particular day. You can control what you can control, and no more. This might result in a phenomenal time. It might take execution through some of the worst circumstances imaginable. But it all remains the same.

It all took effort to get there.

One of the final lines of the video is, "I'm pissed off for greatness. 'Cause if you ain't pissed off for greatness, then you're OK with being mediocre. And there's no man in this room that's OK with being just basic."

How do you get there? Effort. You only achieve greatness by being able to give that effort, to be willing to give all you have, no matter how much nor how little that may be. Greatness is a relative term in an individual sport; a 6-hour effort will be a spectacular failure for an athlete capable of more, but a smashing success for another who has given all that they had to give.

So, to all of my fellow Rev3 Quassy athletes: be pissed off for greatness. Because if you're not pissed off for greatness, then you're OK with being mediocre. And there's not a soul toeing that line Saturday or Sunday morning that is going to be OK with being mediocre. Your efforts will result in greatness.

See you out there.

Drivers, Cyclists, and Data Collection

As you've heard in this space before, I've been hit by a car twice, and had my fair share of near misses out there. As such, what I'd like to do is try and help improve the relationship between cyclists and drivers.

In the case, I have a brief survey going regarding the law and best practices for drivers and cyclists alike. 10 questions. Super short.

Please take the survey, and be honest. I'm going to report back with my findings next week.

I Swear I'll Never Give In, No I Refuse...

Just some tough sledding around the Crashing the Boards offices as of late...

With all of the stress that I'd accumulated over the past couple of weeks, factor in an increased training load and partnered with plenty of work as well...I've earned myself a lovely head cold. It was one of those inevitable moments; in the back of my head, I knew that I'd probably wind up either sick or overtrained just with everything that's been going on. So once this settled in, I decided to take today off from training. Just needed to back off, settle down, let the body heal up.

As much as I'd like to say that this meant that my mind did some healing too...well, you don't know me very well. I typically thrive on situations that require lots of juggling. I'm a logistics person, so having the entire day to kill has been...well, me just crawling inside my own head to attempt to deal with everything that's been going on.

And well, the cruelest blow of 'em all: there's two cracks in Kermit the Felt. One's in the non-driveside chainstay, the other in the driveside seatstay. Not a good place to be when you've got Rev3 Quassy in a couple of weeks. So the past few days have been novel attempts to figure out how to get finances in order for a new race whip. (The insurance that was allegedly going to cover this type of thing? Well, let's just say that the policy was about as valuable as the piece of paper that I printed it out on.)

One way or another, though...I'll find a way to make it work. It always seems to come together. Hence the title, from (yet another) Foo Fighters song...I will find a way.

Gear Review: Swiftwick Aspire Zero Socks

My feet are finicky.

No, seriously: I have some serious issues when it comes to footwear. I think it's partially due to working in the running business: I'm almost hyper-aware of anything when it comes to things that go on board.

This is particularly true with socks. I've had very limited success with most running socks. Whether it's a tighter or looser fitting brand, or an acrylic versus merino wool sock, or single-layer to double-layer variety, it's been an issue to be comfortable. I'd pretty much relegated myself to the fact that no matter what I have on my feet, I'll probably have a blister somewhere while running.

And that brings us to Swiftwick socks, and my experience with them.

The TechnoBabble
Swiftwick is an interesting company in the performance apparel industry. By that, I mean that 100% of the work for their products is done in the United States. To wit, they put it pretty bluntly on their website:

We decided to make all our products in the USA. Not some. Not most. All.

If you are a proponent of "Buying Local" or "Buying in the US," well, I'd argue you can't do much better than that.

Swiftwick's socks feature 200 needle stitching. What does that mean? Well, it's the highest density that you can get into a performance sock. This gives you an extremely tight-woven pattern to the sock. This, Swiftwick claims, will prevent debris from penetrating through the sock layer and creating a friction point that could, coupled with moisture, cause a blister.

This stitching also gives an extremely tight, almost second-skin feeling to their socks. The closer something is to the body, the better job it can do at moving moisture away. But also, this will prevent the sock from potentially bunching and generating friction in that manner. Less friction and less moisture means less blistering for feet.

Swiftwick uses both acrylics and merino wool for their socks. Acrylic socks feature, generally, a 75% to 25% ratio of water soluble and water proof materials. This allows the sock to gather moisture off of your foot, and then expel it into the moisture-management system of your shoe. Acrylics also provide the elasticity to wrap the foot well and create seams that you can barely feel. Merino wool, on the other hand, is a natural thermal regulator, attempting to keep your body temperature constant. Merino is also naturally anti-microbial (less bacteria, less stink!), and can move moisture while it's still a vapor.

Swiftwick has an extremely extensive product line. Your personal preference on material thickness and tightness will determine which of their line you would prefer. The Aspire tested here is their tightest fitting and thinnest sock; the Vibe is slightly thicker and looser (and far more colorful); the Pursuit is their merino wool product line; and the Performance is their original sock. Swiftwick also manufactures custom compression lines with their Vision product line. (Yes, this is the brand with the awesome argyle compression socks.)

Each product line also has a couple of different heights to the sock, denoted as Zero, One, Two, Four, Seven, and Twelve (referring to the length of the sock above the ankle). The Zero here is the lowest sock of the line.

Swiftwick Aspire Zero (image courtesy of Swiftwick)

The Run: How do they work?
How can I put this without it seeming a little, well, over-the-top...

They're, simply put, amazing.


The first thing you notice when you receive a pair of Swiftwick's is how small they look. I took a look at the sock, and then my foot, and went: uh-oh, did I get the wrong size? Fear not. There's so much elasticity to the sock that it gets on quite well.

Once you get the sock on, it's immediately noticeable how that 200 needle stitching worked out. These are extremely plush, wrapping the foot in a pillowy-soft material. Generally, this would lead to a pretty loose-fitting sock on the foot. But instead, these sit exactly true and contour to your foot. There's no gaps of material between your foot and the sock; it just seats true.

Out on the run, it's more of the same. The elasticity of the sock still allows your foot to properly splay out, unlike some other tighter-fitting sock vendors. There's a plushness that eliminates any seaming issue from the interior of the shoe; it makes up for a deficient interior of a shoe. Shoes that I have traditionally always blistered in? Nothing with the Swiftwick's.

The true test? This is the sock I ran Boston in. I ran in a pair of shoes that, traditionally, I'd always get a blister just forward of the arch on my left foot, especially if there was some extra moisture involved. Well, there was PLENTY of extra water kicking around, given the approximate 8 gallons of water that I dumped over my head during the course of getting from Hopkinton to Boston.

When I got to Copley Square and meet up with my family post-race, I kicked off my shoes and socks to get ready for my favorite post-race shoe: Birkenstock Arizonas. I had figured that, with the amount of pain in my legs, that I'd simply ignored any issues with my feet. After all, with that much water, something had to have been wrong with a blister, or something.

I inspected my feet closely, and was absolutely astounded:

No blisters. Not one. NOTHING.

Whoa.

The only tip from a purchasing standpoint: just ensure that whatever height you purchase will come above the heel collar of the shoe. This wasn't a problem with my Aspire Zeros and the particular pair of shoes that I ran Boston in, but it could be depending on your shoe. I'll be keeping a mix of Zeros, Ones, and Twos kicking around, just to make sure I have a pair that can be worn with any of my running shoes.

All my other run socks? Relegated to work sock status. I'm never going back. Well done, Swiftwick.

Like the Sun We Will Live and Die, and Then Ignite Again...

My apologies for a lack of updating in this space as of late. Lots of stuff going on in life.

You know the saying, "if it weren't for bad luck, you'd have no luck at all?" This has been an adequate description of the past few weeks around the Crashing the Boards offices.

I'd been delivered some relatively frustrating news just before Boston, but with all of the training that was involved with doing the race, I don't think I had taken the time to actually process any of it. It hit me out of left field and just knocked me on my rear end. Coupled with the physical and mental toll of the race itself, and well, you've got a recipe for emotional burn-out.

Mind you, this is all before the more recent developments around these parts. I'm not going to dive into the heart of the issues, mostly because a.) it's really, really close to me and considering the way that I pour myself into these things...it's not something I can do yet and b.) well, it's a family thing. Couple that with loss, a couple other things on the plate, and well...

I just haven't had the space to write yet. I have things I want to do; I have a review of Swiftwick socks on the horizon, as well as some other topics of choice regarding training and retailing. But I also need to put myself first, too.

This is where the title of this has been coming from. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm a bit of a 90s alternative geek, so having Soundgarden back is kind of...well...awesome. "Live to Rise," although a bit derivative and having some cohesion issues (the intro, and other parts of the song, just don't seem to co-exist well with one another; perhaps tension purposely developed for The Avengers), has an absolutely clutch Chris Cornell chorus:

Like the sun we will live to rise
Like the sun we will live and die,
And then, ignite again
Like the sun we will live to rise again...again...


It's truth. You have control only over the things that you can control; try and do those things that put you in the best position to succeed whatever the circumstances that may arise and throw you for a loop. It's a tough lesson for me, personally, because I always feel like you can control everything when, in fact, you can't. But I can control the reactions to such circumstances; I can control the things that I do in those situations. It's how you respond to adversity. It's igniting, sparking, moving forward.

But without a doubt, it's continuing to plug along, move forward, and do what I can to be the best I can on any given day. For that, I'd like to thank anybody and everybody who reads this page. All the friends, the family, the co-workers, the sponsors, the entirety of Revolution3...I can't thank any of you enough for standing alongside, being a part of my life, helping me along. You're all more than I could ever ask for.