Can't Always Know What's Coming, Can't Always Trust a Twist of Fate: 2013 Racing Schedule

Yes, I know how odd that title is up above, but it really speaks volumes: You're never going to be completely sure when you're going to be prepared for something, but you also can't just hope that it's going to be OK. You need to do what you can to give yourself the confidence in your plans. It's that sensation that led to me sitting down with Doug to review the 2012 season and to start thinking ahead towards 2013.

We settled in, and the first question was about how I personally felt about the season. The big thing, to me, was being so happy with the improvement that I've made. I hit one target goal for the year (go sub-5:15), the next goal being within reach (sub-5:00), and I proved to myself that I can run pretty damn fast if I'm smart about it.

That doesn't make me satisfied, though. I'm hungry for a lot of things in the sport, and it's going to take a lot of dedicated work to get there. I knew how much time I left on the table, for instance, at Rev3 Maine. I went as fast as I could on a given day at Rev3 Cedar Point, and now it's about dialing in the nutrition plan.

So as we sat there, chatting about what I feel like I needed to do, the first thing across the mind was closing a run out: not letting the back half of the run hit me like a ton of bricks. Some of that's nutrition, some of that's fitness, and some of that's mental; the willingness to continue to meet pain head on in the face. I've done pretty well, but I want to close it on down and hammer it home.

The goals for next season?

1. Sub 5:00 HalfRev. I think this one's right within grasp. 
2. The Reach: Sub 4:45 Half Rev. This is in my "have a perfect day" window. I'd need to execute, execute, execute, with absolutely no room for deviation from the plan. At least, on the current levels of fitness. But we'll see how close we can come...
3. Be competitive in my age group. What the hell's that mean? Well...you'll find out here soon enough.

So, what's my racing schedule looking like? Well, I'm planning on a full slate of Rev3 races. Even with the team application opening up here soon (follow Rev3 on Twitter or like them on Facebook to see when that actually launches!), I'm racing Rev3 pretty exclusively for long-course triathlon. As Hannah has said in this space, it's much easier on her events-wise. It's got a vibe that I love. And the racing is second to none. So I'm going there for my racing on a pretty permanent basis.

Without further adieu, the tentative 2013 race plan:

• Rev3 Knoxville Olympic: May 5th, 2013--I've never raced an Olympic, and looking forward to the year, we're planning on doing some speed sessions to kick off the year to carry it in to the longer efforts. 
• Waldo County Y Sprint: May 17th, 2013--Sounds like I've been roped into this one by Adam. (His mom is the race director.) Apparently, we need to continue our little feud.
• Rev3 Quassy HalfRev: June 2nd, 2013--I love this race. It's my favorite race. Everything about it stands out: the volunteers, the course, the diabolical signs on the run, the atmosphere. World-class event.
• Rev3 Maine HalfRev: August 25th, 2013--A nice last hard effort leading into the "big one."
• Rev3 Cedar Point FullRev: September 8th, 2013--Yep, now I've stepped in it. Why a Full? Well, as I was sitting there all day at Cedar Point thinking to myself, "You know, this really isn't that long..." while racing 70.3 flippin' miles probably says that you're the right kind of crazy. 

Now, if you've paid any attention to the comments over on the Rev3 Facebook page, you know that there's been some rumors floating around about a certain Maine race and a potential "filling out" of the race course, if you catch my drift. Why the hell am I going to travel out to Cedar Point?

Well, for one, where we stayed at Cedar Point this year was fantastic, and I am fully planning on staying there again. Tim, if I remember correctly, put a deposit down on the place for next year. Sign my rear end up. Where do I send the cash? In all seriousness, though, I couldn't imagine a better place to be staying the weekend of a race: right on the course, right in the middle of town, everything's pretty accessible, and it takes the stress off.

Secondly, and almost more importantly: I almost left Maine completely off my race schedule, is why. Not because I don't love the race; I do. I think that course is awesome, I think it's challenging in a way that none of the other Rev3 events I've been a part of are...it's a great event. If I weren't racing, I'd be working. And even still, I'll probably work a bit too!

The problem, for me, is that racing at home is way more stressful than racing at a destination. You see, when you're at a destination, you have to plan. You have to get everything together, so you find it all. No stress the weekend of the race, because it's all there. You don't need to frantically search for it.

When I'm at home, I don't worry about planning as much. Where's my spare stuff? "Oh, it's in the house, I'll find it." So then you're panicking the Saturday before the race trying to find all of your crap because you didn't need to pack it and put it somewhere.

Nope, no thanks. If I'm going to be racing 140.6 miles, I need to have my plan. I need to execute my plan. Can't always trust a twist of fate...(see what I did there?)

So no, I will race Maine...just another HalfRev day to test things out before going and doing something silly at Cedar Point.

With all that in mind, time to hit the road. Goals set. There's work to be done.

Break Free: The Trail to Ale 10K Report

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

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

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

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

Now, for the actual race report:

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

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

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

So going in, I had absolutely no expectations.

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

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

So my goal was simple: beat Adam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

UH OH.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boom. Stick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.