Fauna Extreme

The Mysterious Middle--Guest Writing for MizFitOnline

2011-12-14T09:27:00.000-06:00

In October, I met a mom from my daughter's kindergarten class who has a really great fitness blog called MizFitOnline. She asked me to be a guest writer. Here's what I wrote for her!

The Mysterious Middle

Also, just want to highlight my favorite post for 2011:

(Trying to Get) Back to Bikram

The Colorado River 100

2011-09-02T14:33:00.003-05:00

For many posts on this blog, I've rambled on and on about marathons, triathlons, the MS150 and Bikram yoga. These athletic endeavors are very mainstream and familiar. I'm not dissing their difficulty by labeling them this way; I'm just saying that these goals are popular and a typical choice people make when they decide they want to take on a physical challenge.

My dad's choice of challenge is not mainstream. I think most people, me included--until now, are quite unfamiliar with the sport he loves. My dad canoes. And I don't mean "Oh-let's-glide-down-the-river-for-a couple-of-hours-and-enjoy-the-pretty-scenery" type of canoeing. I mean the Texas Water Safari, a race most (or those in the know) consider to be the most difficult canoe race in the world, and honestly, one of the toughest races period. It's 260 miles, from San Marcos to Sea Drift, TX--with numerous, tiring portages--and you have to finish in under 100 hours or you're disqualified. My dad has participated in this craziness twelve times.

This writing here is from the entry form for the Texas Water Safari:

The Texas Water Safari is a long, grueling race that is extremely demanding, both physically and mentally. Entrants are encouraged to consult a physician to ensure that they are in good health and can withstand the rigors that participation entails. The physical demands of the race, combined with sleep deprivation, heat, dehydration and exhaustion, often cause participants to become disoriented. Amnesia, hallucinations and other debilitating conditions are not uncommon. Such effect can impair judgment, a condition especially dangerous for a solo paddler. (My dad has finished the Safari twice solo!)

It goes on to discuss the dangers of the river. One year, my dad's partner broke his leg after he fell into the water (possibly from falling asleep while paddling). He hung onto the canoe, drifting and waiting for a gravel bar along the shore so he could climb back in, and while drifting, he hit a rock or something, cracking his tibia.

The writing then goes on to warn about the disorientation of heat exhaustion and danger of heat stroke. One year, my dad told me about a guy who got out of his canoe, removed all of his clothes and wandered off. Police searched for and detained the naked man in a nearby neighborhood.

Then it warns about animals--snake bites, alligators, wasps, fire ants, stingrays (that participants have stepped on at the end when you get to the bay), etc... My dad told me about a freak accident where an alligator gar jumped out of the water, hitting a woman square in the chest, breaking her ribs. But the animal story I will forever love: One time, my dad was trying to get a couple of hours of sleep, but there was a noisy bullfrog nearby. Somehow he was able to locate the frog. He picked it up and threw it as far as he could.

Here's how the entry form concludes:

There is danger in all outdoor sports, but there are wonderful benefits to be gained. There is a fine line between “gutting it out” and pushing on in the face of pain on the one hand, and failing to recognize the danger signs on the other. This race is not for everyone, the best you can do (what we have all done in the past) is talk to other racers, enter races of shorter duration and gain experience... There is no disgrace in pulling over to rest for awhile. Some of the top finishers have done so and some of the best racers in Safari history have been forced to drop out. But, when you finish, you will find, as former recorder-holder John Bugge has repeatedly said, that you are a different person....for life...

The Water Safari is NOT the race I recently did with my dad. I participated with him in the Colorado River 100--a 100-mile event. While this race is definitely difficult, it's nowhere near the Water Safari, which takes place on the San Marcos and Guadalupe rivers. First of all, there are no dams and portages in the Colorado 100--a huge difference. My puny arms and damaged back could never handle portages. And second of all, obviously, the CR100 is a 160 miles shorter than the Safari! During our three practice runs to prepare, I quickly learned that my weak mind could never take on the Safari's mental challenge of being constricted in the canoe and on the river for so long. We finished the CR100 in 24:39:32--and during our race, I really relied on my iPod. I've mentioned on this blog about how much I loved my iPod when I was a runner, but I needed my iPod on the river; I would have been in serious trouble without it. (And I actually brought two iPods, knowing the charge would run out on me with the first one.) And this was just for a 100-mile race, not 260 miles! My dad's best Safari time is 70-something hours. These rivers, the Colorado included, are not white water. I often felt like I was paddling in a winding lake. So to paddle for 24 hours multiplied by 3? So hard to wrap my brain around that.

So again: twelve times my dad has shown up at the starting line of the Texas Water Safari, with five finishes--twice alone (amaaaazing) and three other times with a partner or a three-man boat. My brother Steven finished with him one of those successful years. The other attempts that fell short were due to damaged canoes, damaged partners and not meeting time cutoffs. And also, very important to point out: many years the Safari has terrible, low-water conditions. Basically, anybody that crosses the finish line of the Safari must feel like the ultimate badass (once they've recovered from their hallucinations and exhaustion). Now that I've done some paddling myself and experienced a canoe race firsthand, I'm even more impressed, blown away, and confused by those that complete such a grueling race and return to do it again and again. So amazing...and insane. :)

If the Texas Water Safari were to be compared to a marathon, then the Colorado River 100 would be a 10K--a 10K that I'm so glad and grateful I got to experience with my dad. He and my stepmother Janet, our team captain, pretty much handed this accomplishment to me. They did all of the organizing, supplying and stressing. All I did was show up and try my best not to be pathetic.

We did it, Dad! I love you.

Pictures: My dad surprised me the evening before the race with the names "Ironman" and "Dad" on our canoe. I was laughing and thought it was great. The label of "Dad" was rather humble, though, right? More like, "Daughter" and "Ironcanoer" or "Ironpaddler."

Click here if you'd like to see photos from this year's 2011 Water Safari from the Austin American Statesman.

(Trying to Get) Back to Bikram

2011-07-11T22:23:00.003-05:00

Other title considerations...

Are You There, Bikram? It's Me, Sarah

Help Me, Bikram Choudhury. You're My Only Hope.

I took my first Bikram yoga class in spring of 2002. At this time, my husband Chad and I were mopping up a big 'ol mess we had spilled all over our lives. At this time, we were both about three months sober. Me--recently completing two and a half months of treatment followed by living on my own in Tampa, FL. And Chad--in Houston, where we're from, immersing himself in AA and spending time with a sponsor. (Chad had done treatment and AA in his past before we met, so we decided on the plan of just me going away to treatment and him staying back and working on his recovery at home, immersing himself once again in AA.) Being apart was crucial to our success. Our love was strong, but we were partners in crime and serious sobriety saboteurs for each other.

So I was in Tampa, trying to build some confidence. Rented a cute duplex and got a little job at a bakery called Pane Rustica. (Yummy place to go if you're ever in Tampa.) The manager there told me about Bikram and invited me to try a class with her. This intense, yoga experience had a very strong first impression on me, arriving at such a vulnerable time in my life. I had been struggling, self-loathing, hopeless. But that Bikram class snapped me out of that sad state for 90 minutes. It ignited foreign feelings like contentment, hope and appreciation.

I had not been an athletic person since high school. And obviously, for a long time, I had been treating my body like crap. And I was still a smoker. Funny to light up a cigarette when you're driving home from yoga. But this yoga--was my first time in years to try a physical challenge. Bikram was there for me first, before my running, which I've written a lot about on this blog, and I'll bring up again in just a minute.

I only got to take a couple more classes because a surprise came: Chad and I were going to have a baby. (He came to Tampa for a visit as soon as I got out of treatment.) I often wonder if Chad and I would have our semi-longterm sobriety if I hadn't gotten pregnant with our daughter Parker. I think of Parker as an angel sent to save us--and to save our family and friends from losing us. I'm pretty positive that without her, Chad and I wouldn't have this nine-year chunk of sobriety. Difficult to gather up years when you start in your twenties. (For me at least--only talk about yourself when you talk recovery talk. The "we," "our" and "you" talkers? Na uh. No.)

Anyway...I quit because I didn't have anywhere near the foundation a woman needs who is going to continue her practice during her pregnancy. But Bikram left a lasting imprint. That bakery manager's gift to me would turn out to be something that I returned to, picked up and tinkered with, again and again.

Once we knew about Parker, living in Tampa was out. That was the longterm recovery plan--for Chad and I to have some time apart and then for him to move to Tampa. Too many tempting memories and mayhem in Houston for us. But now that Parker was coming, she was our little antabuse, and Houston and each other were no longer such threats to our recovery. Plus, that's where all the grandparents lived! So I came back to Houston and to Chad, and after Parker was born, I began to play around again with Bikram. Not going consistently, but buying the ten-class option and trying to get 'em all in before the month was over. So definitely not a serious student, but Bikram was back in my life. I remember Mike and Joani, the owners of the Houston studios. Very nice. I remember the teacher and manager Tony when I took class at the Fountainview location by my mom while she watched Parker for me. Really great.

But then I decided to run a marathon. Huh? Where did that come from? After Parker turned one, I was antsy from being a stay-at-home mommy. And an only one-year-eleven-months-sober mommy at that. No evening glass of wine to unwind with. No mother's little helper. I needed a goal. And for whatever reason, I came up with running a marathon. See "Waiting for the End. Part One--Marathon Mayhem" for more details about this time in my life.

Extra detail--on my thirtieth birthday, a couple of months before my first marathon, Chad surprised me with a weekend retreat in Austin with Rajashree, Bikram's wife. That was neat. She's funny. And beautiful. So sweet of Chad to come up with that present for my thirtieth.

Months after the retreat with Rajashree, we moved to The Woodlands, a suburb just north of Houston--a place that I would call a runner's paradise. Miles and miles of flat, sidewalk trails that you can crisscross and change around. So many parks with water fountains and bathrooms. And a lot of running and triathlon groups. I knew before we moved to The Woodlands that a new Bikram studio would be opening there. Knowing that was actually one of the parts of the pros vs. cons to moving. A very small part of the decision, but still a part! I would have been bummed to not have Bikram close to me. But like I said, The Woodlands is the perfect place to run, and I quickly fell hard for the sport. Consequently, my Bikram practice became a distant second to my running.

The Woodlands studio is really nice. Like a spa. Arnie and Jen, the owners, are very sweet. But running was now first, then yoga. I did take advantage of the exchange offer they had of earning two classes every time you babysat for the 9:30 class. I really liked that. Made my yoga free, so Chad couldn't roll his eyes at me yet again for another thing I was spending money on myself for and my non-working life. But we had another daughter now, too--Bridget, so I was still earning my keep, taking care of our two little girls, right, Honey?

In March of 2009, I asked a few of my running friends to take on a 60-day Bikram challenge with me. Go to"Waiting for the End. Part One--Marathon Mayhem" and/or "Will I Get it Together in Time for IMTX?" to read about that experience. And what you'll find out in those posts is that just two days after we completed the challenge, I had a rollerskating accident (Not a roller derby girl. Happened at Parker's friend's birthday party.) and severely ruptured my L4/L5 disc, leaving me no choice but to have back surgery. Crazy, crazy. So depressing to have those 60 days of Bikram taken away from me, in addition to all of the progress I had made as a runner. I had PR'd at the Houston Marathon just a few months before--a feat that I worked my butt off for, so again--extremely discouraging. The surgery totally cured my scary, off-the-chart, sciatica symptoms, but the accident left me with a half-disc that would turn out to only be able to handle two more years of long-distance running. And it also left me with a new, disenchanted attitude towards the world of races. (The focus of "Waiting for the End" is my struggle with this reality, and "Part 3--Satisfied Surrender" is the conclusion of what recently went down with me and races.)

So after the surgery and recovery time, I returned to running, throwing in only a tiny sprinkle of Bikram, and then we moved to Austin last August--where from then till just this past May was my temporary relationship with triathlons...and zero Bikram. (See "Parts 1, 2 and 3." Sorry. Broken record. That's the last time I'll say that.)

And now the present!

I'm retired from races, and I've been struggling with whether or not to be totally done with running. Since Ironman Texas in May, I've managed a couple of runs without problems, but for the most part, the runs I've been on...have sucked. Left me frustrated. And sad. And walking.

My back is only 36 years old (Okay. Almost 37.), and it's already missing half a disc and also has two bulging ones. (C lick here if you'd like to see my lovely MRI) The right thing to do, the smart thing to do...is to not run anymore. And that's what I've finally decided to do. Sigh...

It's heartbreaking to let something go that I love so much. But if that something is no longer good for me...if it's now hurting me...then I've got to let it go. A bit of similarity there, huh? Not the first time I've had to painfully say goodbye to some things that were hurting me. More like, agonizing...grieving over losing things that were kicking my ass. Peculiar stuff--that it could be so difficult to release your grip from things that are destroying you. (For me--broke the rule I was preachy about earlier.)

So what now? What's going to keep me out of trouble? I learned I'm not a cyclist or a swimmer. No fireworks or connection with either of them for me. (Well, cycling did have some amazing moments. We were a fling, though.) But there was definitely a spark between me and Bikram, and I'm now trying to reconnect with this always welcoming friend. I finally put my money where my mouth is and bought the $49, 30-day intro special at Pure Bikram. The switch is huge for me--coming down from this past year of ironman training, the MS150 and the years of marathons before that. I'm replacing my beloved ipod runs for a yoga room where I silently stare at myself in the mirror. I don't think the teachers are ever going to let me practice while listening to Tool or the Beastie Boys.

Here's what's gone down for my first 30 days back at Bikram...

Day 1, Class 1: Pure Bikram's Westlake studio. I had been here once before, when Chad and I were in Austin for a weekend getaway. So when the instructor looked me up on their computer, there I was, with details: He read to me that I was there in July of '09 and had recently undergone surgery for a disc herniation. Wow. That's right. My mushy brain didn't recall the timing--that I had been here just over a month after my back surgery. And now here I was again--two years, one month later. It hadn't been quite that long since my last time to do Bikram, though. Well, maybe it was, because I was about to say that my last class was in The Woodlands, but Arnie and Jen were in the process of changing over to their 5o-minute, express hot yoga classes. So an express class was the last class I took (They're fun! I liked it.), so the Pure Bikram class just over two years ago was my last time I had done traditional, 90-minute Bikram. My thoughts during the class:

It's awesome.

It always is.

My body is such an achy wreck.

I'm going to be fine; this will be my thing now.

Maybe I'll be a teacher someday.

The training is so expensive, though.

And how would I be away from Chad and the girls for that long?

I wonder if someday I could ever be in a yoga competition?

Ugh! I'm such a spaz. Why can't I just be satisfied with the present, with the experience? Why do I need to make everything bigger? Why am I so extreme? Sigh. Because I'm just someone who has a hard time with the art of moderation.

Day 3, Class 2: Downtown Pure Bikram location. Thoughts--pretty much the same thoughts as the first class. My body is a mess. Want to become a Bikram teacher. And also become the greatest yoga champion the world has ever seen. A yoga superhero, with a cape and mask. "Who was that masked yogini?" :) I also thought, this is like a 90-minute Ironman Texas. Heat. Humidity. Hard.

Day 5, Class 3: Downtown. The teacher's name was Michael. On this Father's Day morning, I made the trip to Starbucks for Chad and me. Two Venti bolds, no room. Perfect example of the moderation problem. (To really get a good look at my nasty, gluttonous nature, read "Hopefully the Year of the Tiger...and Not the Kitten." ) After getting the coffee, I also stopped at the grocery store and bought a last minute cookie cake for the girls and I to give to Chad for his day. It said "Happy Father's Day" and was decorated with plastic pieces that were a fishing theme (fish, pole, tacklebox). Chad--our big fisherman (not at all). And there were blue icing waves on the cake--but not enough icing in my opinion, so I went over to the baking aisle and grabbed a can of more blue icing for the girls to squirt more waves onto Daddy's cake--which turned out to be Mommy's cake all morning before this third yoga class. Who knows, I could be wrong, but I'm guessing I was the only one in class with blue-stained teeth.

Alright, enough of that. For this class, I was able to get my fingers under my feet during Standing Separate Leg Stretching--always a toughie for me when I first come back to Bikram. Looking forward to more of those little improvements. Like my Rabbit pose: Presently, it's a barely alive Rabbit pose--can barely lift my butt up. But I've always had a sick rabbit, and I don't mean sick as in "This beat is sick" (Yes. Lady Gaga). I mean sick as in you want to rush my rabbit to the vet.

Day 14, Class 4: Alright, so I went eight days without going to a class. Don't know what happened. I was all fired up, and then? Oh well. At least I made it back. 5:30, downtown. Crowded! Wow. Been a very long time since I was in a class like that, but it was fine. A tough, great class, taught by Marco, the teacher who helped me on day 1 and read the notes about me on the computer. I was really hot today. Perhaps because it was packed? Or just because I was battling the heat. Anyhow, I was super glad when the end had arrived! Noticed some minor improvements again, despite the eight day absence--didn't have to bend my knees quite so much for a handful of poses.

Day 16, Class 5: 6:30, downtown. Not sure of the teacher's name. She had an accent. The heat was not as hard for me today. My first time in the other practice room. Pure Bikram is amazing--there are so many class times, so I really have no way of using the excuse that I just can't make a class on whatever day.

I felt good today. Continuing to notice less knee bending. Have a long way to go, though, before I'll be able to lock those knees. And so far I'm remaining disciplined with my choice not to kick out yet for Standing Head to Knee. Perhaps after a couple more classes, I'll try. We'll see. Felt some tingling in my left leg after each time I came out of Camel pose. Before my back injury, I had been living with functional sciatica for over a year, in my left rear end, so this sensation isn't alarming. I'm an old pro with tingling in the left leg.

Day 18, Class 6: 4:30, Westlake. With Mardy.

I have scoliosis. Wore a brace for two years in middle school for sixteen hours a day. Fun stuff. I chose for my eight hours brace-free to be while I was at school. Would much rather sleep in a brace then wear one around my friends all day. Middle school years--already awkward enough, right? Anyhow, my right shoulder blade sticks out because of the curve and slight twist in my spine, and for today's Cobra pose, while lying there waiting for the cue to begin the posture, I really noticed it. Very pronounced when I'm down like this with my hands flat below my shoulders. I wonder if years of dedicated practice could shift it back at all? Am I a years-of-dedicated-practice type of person, though?

Day 21, Class 7: So I've now started a ten day vacation in Galveston with my family. But, Chad and I headed to Houston for one night at my mom's house for some rare alone time while my mom watched our girls for us back in Galveston at the rental. And while I was in Houston, I took a noon class at the South Blvd. location. I was happy and surprised to see that Tony was teaching. Didn't occur to me at all that I might have a teacher I knew. And he remembered me! He heard me after class speaking with the woman at the front desk, updating my info, and he said hi and asked about me. So sweet of him.

I kicked out today for Standing Head to Knee. Just figured I would check it out. Went pretty well, considering how out of Bikram shape I am. Wasn't locking my lifted leg, but I held it up the duration of the posture for each set. I wish there wasn't this big gap coming up before my next class, but I'm back to Galveston tomorrow morning for another week. What a ridiculous whine--that my vacation is getting in the way of my yoga.

Day 29, Class 8: 4:00, downtown. My third time with Marco. He gave me a couple of posture corrections in class today, which made me feel good. I was smiling when I couldn't really manage the corrections, but I appreciated him giving a moment to me. Dramatic to say, but today's class might have been the hottest class I've ever experienced in my sporadic history with Bikram. Holy sh-t, it was hot. Like Marco was microwaving a steam bag of yoga students...tossed in a tangy perspiration sauce with essence of B.O.

After class, I set up the auto pay. Here I go. How will this play out? Will I flake and drift away yet again from Bikram? Will I become a teacher and yoga superhero? Or how about just being comfortable with the middle? Not needing a finish line or an accomplishment and simply enjoying the moment.

Wish me luck. I think I'll borrow some animal energy from all of Fauna Extreme's athletes...

...Strength from the rhinoceros beetle, tiger and elephant.

...Strategy and patience from the red fox.

...Confidence from the brown hare.

...Speed from the cheetah, pronghorn, peregrine falcon and sailfish. (Speed to make the balancing series and Triangle go by quickly when I'm struggling!)

...And endurance and perseverance from the honey badger , my beloved bar-tailed godwit and the polar bear (and how 'bout some arctic temps, too, from the sea bear while I'm in Bikram's torture chamber!)

Waiting for the End: Part Three--Satisfied Surrender

2011-05-25T22:21:00.003-05:00

A 3-part series of blog posts about my journey from marathon mayhem, to triathlon desperation, to reaching a point of satisfied surrender.

Part Three: Satisfied Surrender.

So I'm now a little over the seven-year mark with running, with this past year my stint with triathlons.

As for the running, there have been many 5-mile runs, long runs, 20-mile weeks, 40-mile weeks (not too many of those), track workouts (but not in the last few years!), registering for races, new shoes, socks, running clothes, Gu's and energy bars. There have been headphones and ipod shuffles (had to replace them a couple of times because they break from sweat or they've made it into the washer). There have been injuries, orthopedic doctors, physical therapists, a chiropractor and deep tissue massages. There have been many post-run Starbucks with friends. And there have been finish lines. I'm so grateful I experienced the world of running--the pain, the fun, the disappointment, the personal victories.

As for triathlons? Oh, you know...well, uh....

But hey--I knew when I decided to do Ironman Texas that I probably wasn't going to fall in love with triathlons. If I was already struggling with the point of running races, was there really any chance that I would just miraculously fall head over heals for a race that adds two more disciplines? (Let me just stress that I'm talking about my own personal questioning of the point of races--the point for me to continue with them, not everyone in general. Obviously, I have loved races. This is about my own personal journey. Just want to be clear on that so no one gets riled up!)

I was ready to be done. I decided it was time to be done. For two reasons:

One--I'm just not the runner at the starting line who's there for the experience. I thrived on goals. And if I'm not going for a PR or preparing for a future PR, then the interest just isn't there for me. And the me that would put in the intensity needed for PRs is gone--gone after my injury and all of my progress erased, and gone because my L4/L5 disc is a shaky spot that can no longer handle the amount of weekly miles necessary to start over again and attempt a PR marathon. That disc is a pillow with half the feathers gone, a flat tire, a reduced-fat jelly donut. (I love analogies about my half-disc.) And the vertebrae around it are becoming compromised and showing edema--the glaring white part on L4 of my MRI. Yes, a doctor I saw one year after the surgery did say I could keep running to my heart's content, but he also said my days as a long-distance runner were numbered--that I would begin to feel straight-up, "regular" back pain. Not the crazy, scary nerve pain I experienced with the herniation explosion, but pain from running with half a disc now. (You read Part One and Part Two, right?) And I am in fact starting to feel what the doctor spoke of--pain. On a recent 20-mile run I did to prepare for IMTX, I felt like the L4/L5 spot was actually swollen afterwards.

There's just not a PR marathon again in my future. So why not focus on half marathons or 10Ks or whatever? Well, to be honest, because they intimidate me. I like finish lines that are far away. I get more nervous and worked up at the starting line of a 5K than of a marathon. Running fast like that is so hard for me, and my time on those kinds of races makes me feel so exposed if I don't do myself proud. So if it ain't the marathon, then I ain't interested!

And two--well, hang on for a minute with reason two. Let me make my way to IMTX.

So, yes, I was ready to be done with races, but I wanted to go out with a bang, and since the bang couldn't be a marathon PR, then I needed to find something drastically different. And that's why I decided to do an ironman. IMTX was to be my swan song.

A swan song that almost didn't play!

On the evening of May 10th, eleven days before the race, I lifted a pile of laundry, and my back started to hurt. Then the next morning, I ran eight miles anyway, like an idiot, and the pain continued. Okay, don't panic yet; ten days till the race. There's time for this little tweak to heal. It's okay. But what if it's more than a tweak? What if I've re-herniated, or what if one of my other bulging discs herniated? What if I'm totally f---ed?

Please note: I know this back stuff is detailed, long and probably boring, so if you want to skip down and just read about IMTX, I totally understand. I have to talk about it, though, because it's part of my story.

So for four days, I did nothing but rest, ice, heat and Alleve. Quite a taper I had going for the race. Then I saw a spine specialist here in Austin on the 16th to discuss possibly taking some steroid pills or getting a shot. And I thought while I was there seeing this new doctor, why not bring my MRI from a year ago that I had taken 10 months after the surgery? Just see his take on it? Last year, I had tweaked my back, just like this time, and I was paranoid I might have re-herniated, just like this time, so I saw a spine specialist in The Woodlands (the one who said I could still run to my heart's content). He's not the one who did my surgery, though. Dr. Heilman, in Houston, did. I don't know why I didn't go back to Heilman. Well, yes I do; I was lazy to drive down to Houston and sit in that waiting room that was always packed and slow. Dumb. I should have gone back to Dr. Heilman, the guy who actually opened me up and fixed my back, and this present confusion I'm about to discuss probably wouldn't be happening.

So I'm in my room, waiting to speak with the Austin spine guy. The nurse has given him my MRI, and I know he's looking at it before he comes in to meet me and discuss. And when he does come in, he begins to talk about my re-herniation, like I know about it, like it's old news. Huh? What re-herniation? I'm here to talk with you about some back pain I'm having six days out from my ironman, to discuss pain-management options. And I just brought that old MRI to show you, to see what you thought about my back in general and my running future in general. You think my back has re-herniated?

Yes, that's what he thought. Emotion starts to build. And confusion. I told him about my visit with The Woodlands doctor who ordered this past MRI and that he never mentioned I had re-herniated. He had said it was an ugly MRI, but that of course it was--that this is what happened to my back ten months prior. The Austin doctor was saying no, though--that this was not what my back's MRI should be looking like ten months after my surgery. And his whole mood during this appointment was not about what to do about my ironman in six days, but more about my future and my quality of life. But before all of this serious conversation had begun, I had already opened up with my speech that IMTX was the end for me--that I was going to retire afterwards. He said he was glad to hear I was already in that mindset because that's what he was about to suggest--for me to quit running. And then he went into the re-herniation talk. And then came my emotion. (Yes, I cried. Now my third time to cry in front of a spine guy.)

Yes, I was planning to retire, but I meant from races and long-distance runs. Not running altogether. What is this guy saying? I should stop completely? What? I was still planning on 5-mile runs a couple of times a week. Sometimes the 7-mile loop around Town Lake. Still feeling the high, escaping with my cheesy tunes on my ipod. And what about the occasional, 8 to 10 mile run with my Woodlands friends when I was visiting? None of it? I should be done completely?

The appointment ended with us deciding that I would show up for the race I had put so much effort into for the last year (well, not the swimming), give it a shot, and drop out if there were any sign of trouble brewing in my spine. And then be done.

These final days before the IM were turning out to be rather crappy!

I sent out a dramatic email to my friends, letting them know what was going on and that I had no idea if I would be able to complete the race and that after IMTX, I would be done with running forever. I was on the phone with my concerned parents. I was feeling sorry for myself. And just feeling confused--one doctor saying, "You're okay, you can go on running until the back pain eventually sets in. The other doctor saying, "You've re-herniated and just need to be done and protect what's left of your back." Which was it, damn it?

Alright! Enough of that. And now, Ironman Texas!!!

Ironman Texas--May 21st, The Woodlands: Time--14:02:27. That's right, I did it. All of that final mayhem--hurt back, doctor, crying, zero swims, rides or runs for the last nine days before the race....all that craziness and my back ended up being fine. The usual achiness, yes, but nothing more. So some details on my race experience....

The Swim. Time--1:34:34

It was wild. About 2600 of us all at once together. Lots of bumping into each other and having to stop and start over again. And then there's me with my defiant, unorthodox sidestroke. I breaststroke, too, but mostly, I swim like an octopus or a jellyfish. (See videos.) I sidestroke because I'm too lazy to learn and practice freestyle and join a masters swim or tri group, so when I try to freestyle, I get so out of breath and tired. I love being able to keep my face out of the water and get that moment of gliding rest in the sidestroke. And breaststroke. And I'm not making this up: During the sea of freestylers around me, a guy joked with me, "That's not fair that you're sidestroking while we're all out here freestyling." So funny. I do look very out of place. Pictures: First two--I snagged those off of FaceBook from someone with Outrival Racing. Other two--Chad and I crack up so hard when we look at these shots of me in the water. Hilarious. Thank you to my mom's friend, Sue, for getting these. She took so many great shots. And it was amazing that I got to see my mom and my daughters as I finished up my swim in the canal.

Transition 1. Time--7:11

I changed into my bike shorts with the thicker padding, put on a tank top, had a volunteer put an icy hot gel sticker thingy on my back......it was practically a full wardrobe change. Why the hell not?

The Bike. Time--7:07:42

The downside of my sidestroke and having my head above the surface the entire swim is that I can potentially swallow a lot of water. And I did. As soon as I got on the bike, I had a painful side-stitch that just wouldn't go away, making me not want to eat or drink. But I knew I had to, or I would be in big trouble during the run, so I forced it all down every hour, sticking with my calorie and fluids plan. Finally around mile 70, the stitch went away. I stopped to use the bathroom three times during the ride, with one of those times also to adjust my front wheel that I realized a little before 20 miles was rubbing against the brake. Idiot. At one of my bathroom stops, the volunteers were saying biker down. I saw the guy; his elbows were bloody and his bike shorts were torn with road rash on his rear, but he was okay. Someone told me he had just been hit by a car and dragged. Then I noticed the driver on the other side of the road speaking with the police. So scary. And the rider's bike was possibly okay, too. He and a race official were pondering about him continuing on. Wow. I also had a guy next to me lose control of his bike and fall. I had to swerve a little. Me and another guy unclipped and asked if he was okay. He was, and grumpily wanted nothing to do with us. So off I went. Anyhow, a couple of crazy moments during this crazy day.

Without a doubt, I would have had a tough ride if not for my time with Tough Cookies and the ladies I became friends with in that cycling club. I felt prepared and confident during the headwind on the second half of the ride, and the hills of this course were more like inclines compared to what I had been doing in Austin with Tough Cookies. So thank you so much, Ladies. Couldn't have done it without you!

Pictures: out of the water--yay!, the bike gear bags, and on to the bike.

Transition 2. Time--6:49

Got to see my dad as I walked my bike into T2. I knew this was his plan, and it worked out great. Saw and talked to him again a few minutes later as I set out on the marathon.

The Run. Time--5:06:11

Very happy to be off the bike and beginning the miserably hot and humid marathon. Ha! It was so great to have so many friendly faces on the course who knew me from The Woodlands Running Club. And the faces who didn't know me, too. All of the volunteers and crowd support were so enthusiastic and amazing. The aid stations were fully stocked with everything a runner could need. And we needed it all! Or I did at least. It was a hot, humid day. Can't complain about it, though. We all knew going into this, that IMTX would have challenging weather. I'm still confused about the May date, though. And it's May again next year. Whatevah! I poured ice cubes down my sports bra at practically every aid station, and it would be completely melted by the time I reached the next one. I squeezed cold sponges over my head a lot. I drank everything--water, sports drink, chicken broth and coke. I held three cups at once sometimes, not really having a clue what I should be doing at that point. By the third lap, I just didn't want to drink or eat anything anymore. Around mile 24, feelings of throwing up began, but luckily it didn't happen.

The Finish Line

I loved it. I had it all to myself. Lights shining on me, people cheering, music blaring (my song was "Where the Streets Have No Name"). I've never had a finish line experience like that before. It was awesome. A lot of work for that brief moment, but it was worth it.

And what about my friend Sharon and her quest to complete IMTX? Did she make it? Yes, she made it, too. She totally rocks. Pictures: First one--from Russell McCoy. Second one--from Bill Dwyer.

Back to my back for a minute. While I like that Austin spine doctor, and he has an impressive background, I just don't think he was right that I've been walking around with a re-herniation for the last year. I think I just hurt my back picking up the laundry a few weeks ago...and now I'm fine again. Or I don't know! Whatever. BUT--he was right-on in that I'm 36 years old with one really messed up disc and another one on its way--that I need to be smart and preserve and protect where my back is right now. Another BUT--I don't think I need to quit running altogether, though, like he suggested; I think I can carry out my original retirement plan of recreational, short runs. Like 12 miles total per week.

And what other athletics will I be doing? Not cycling. I really did enjoy my time with it--it's thrilling and challenging and intense. My time with Tough Cookies and doing the MS150 was so great. But it just ain't my thang. Too intense. I can't daydream or really talk with friends or listen to my ipod. You have to be constantly focused. I gave my friend Alana back her bike and also all of the gear goodies I bought along the way. So I really gave it up! And swimming? Nah, uh. Also just isn't for me. I couldn't get my lazy, defiant self in that pool. I talked about it a lot ("Ugh, I need to swim!"), but I rarely went. So what then? I'm going to go back to Bikram yoga and hopefully check out other yogas in Austin, too. Mix it up. But I love Bikram because it's...it's just awesome. So, a couple of short runs--sometimes on the greenbelt with our wild puppy Kirby who desperately needs to burn energy, and then yoga. That'll do, and I'm excited.

So what does the title of this blog post series mean? Who's "Waiting for the End?" (Besides Linkin Park, who wrote this song I love to run to.) Well, that's where reason number two comes in for why I'm retiring from races...

I couldn't have done any of these marathons, triathlons and other craziness without my husband Chad. For a chunk of time now, he's been watching the girls for me--while I'm at track (the beginning years, at least), while I'm out on my long runs, or more recently--while I'm out on these bike rides that take half the day. He's listened to me rattle on about things he could care less about. He's been driving me to various starting lines. For seven years, he's been a runner's husband. And a pseudo triathlete's husband. It gets really old!!!

And then my girlies, Parker and Bridget. I think they'd enjoy Mommy being done with races. How she's distracted by them, training for them, planning for them, worrying about them...

So it's the four of us--our little family unit--that have all been waiting for the end. And now we've arrived. I've reached a point of satisfied surrender.

See ya, Races. As my mom likes to quote from a movie, "It's been a slice..."

Pictures: My girls--future Ironmans? Then me and Chad with his mom. (Lots of pics this day but none with just me and him. Whoops.)

Thinking of doing an ironman? Here's what it cost me. And Chad. And I didn't have to buy a bike or a wetsuit!.....

Events:

IMTX--$625

Lonestar olympic--$100?

AVIA Austin olympic--$140

IronStar half iron--$125

MS150: registration--$100, personal donation--$40, Fauna Extreme donation--$25, hotel room--$50 (shared with someone), ticket to ride bus to Houston--$20?

Tough Cookies: joining cycling group--$100, joining their MS150 team--$150

Rosedale ride--$35

Spokes and Spurs ride--$35

Magnolia Miles ride--$35

Shiner GASP ride--$55

Open water swim practice in Lake Woodlands--$35

Total for events--$1670

Shopping:

--Bike Lane: Total--$155. first fitting, shoes, cleats for shoes, then I left my shoes at transition at Lonestar, so I had to buy them and cleats again--idiot, Aero Drink bottle, nutrition stuff, etc...

--Bike Resource: $20. Minor bike repair.

--Sports Authority: Total--$150. tire pump, sunglasses, swim cap, new sports bra

--Luke's Locker: Total--$310. shoes, swim mask (not a goggles gal), then left mask and cap at gym, so had to replace--idiot, socks, gels, bars, etc...

--Jack and Adams: Total--$65. gels, bars, Perpeteum. Lost the straw to my Aero Drink so had to buy the parts kit ($10)--dumb -ss.

--Bicycle Sports Shop: Total--$427. Second fitting, new stem to get me closer to handle bars--got me 5cm closer--thank you!, tuneup, booties, winter gloves, new shorts, sun sleeves (bought right before the race, then didn't use) nutritional stuff, etc...

--REI: Total--$104. Tire changing stuff, bike cleaning stuff, nutritional stuff, etc...

--Sun and Ski: Total--$50. new hat, another bike satchel/bento box, nutrition

--RiverSports: Total--$50. 2 pairs of arm warmers. One was a gift to Sharon. :)

--Austin Tricyclist: Total--$38. Lost my swim mask again (so a total of 3 masks purchased. Total spaz.), and more nutrition crap.

--Rogue Equipment: Total--$100. shoes, nutrition.

--Lane Four: $80. swim stuff (fins, pull buoy, kick board, etc...) that I didn't use enough.

--HEB: I bought a lot of Clif Shot Blox and bars here. $50?

--CVS Pharmacy: $35. New sunglasses. Thought I had lost my other ones, so bought cheap pair here because I just don't deserve to own an expensive pair, I've lost so many. Later found the pricier ones. Again...idiot. Then, right before the race--2 icy hot patches for my back, NuSkin because I tripped on a metal light thingy at Town Green Park and sliced my big toe open, sleeping pills, Powerade.

Total: $1634

Misc.:

Rollingwood swimming pool, winter membership--$400 (Don't ask me how many times I swam there. My top moment of stupidity.)

Massages: Thank you, Mom!!! And Chris (Chad's mom)!!!

Renting a car because I had to leave Austin a day before Chad and the girls, and I didn't want to drive back to Austin alone on Sun. after the race (how diva is that?): $100

Gas: lots of driving to these events and training rides. $300?

Doctors:

Total--$119...

PCP--$25 copay, spine specialist--$45 copay, one physical therapist session--$45 copay. Pain med Meloxicam--$4.

Total: $919

Cost for Sarah to do Ironman Texas? $4223

(How's that for going out with a bang?)

Cost to hear "Sarah Broyles, you are an Ironman!"? Priceless.

Waiting for the End. Part Two--Triathlon Desperation

2011-04-18T17:51:00.001-05:00

A 3-part series of blog posts about my journey from marathon mayhem, to triathlon desperation, to reaching a point of satisfied surrender.

Part Two: Triathlon Desperation.

So in a little over six years, I had run 10 marathons. And I'm thinking most likely, it would have been 12, but I wanted baby Bridget, and then there was the lovely explosion of the L4/L5 jelly doughnut. (See "Part One: Marathon Mayhem" if you didn't read it.) Also in those six years, there were some 5Ks, a 10K, five half marathons, two 25Ks, a triathlon relay, and a 200-mile relay race. This isn't that many events in a six-year period compared to a lot of runners, but for me, particularly after my back injury, it was starting to feel like enough. I had lost the intensity. Where was the me that started a 20-mile run at 4:30 am so I could be done in time to make it to the 10:00 Texans game downtown with my family? (Just one time.) Where was the me that ran 9 miles up and down Allen Parkway before the Houston Half Marathon (the warmup series one) because that's how I wanted to do my final 22-mile training run before the San Antonio Marathon? That me was so gone.

Could I get the passion back? Did I even want to? Did I even need to? I still felt some magic when I ran with all of my favorite running friends: Chester, Maynard, Brandon, Kanye, Eminem, Justin (yes, I admit Justin), and so on...(See "What's My Playlist for Pounding the Pavement"). Those runs still got me high. But not training. Not races.

What about an ironman? I've never even done a sprint triathlon before, but.........what about an ironman? Would that get me going again? (Going where? Was I going somewhere?)

My friend Sharon knew I had lost my mojo to race. And I knew that she had mentioned a time or two about wanting someday maybe to do an IM. So I called her. This was spring last year. We quickly learned that all of the official IMs coming up were filled. Didn't know they filled up quick like that. But this was an emergency; I needed to do an ironman. Races and I were on the rocks, and we needed something drastic to keep us together. And then the announcement: a new ironman next May--in The Woodlands, TX--right smack dab where we live. Sharon and I hastily signed up for Ironman Texas. Sharon's triathlon experience: a sprint, with a sprinkle of swimming and cycling training history. Mine: the swimmer one time in a quarter iron relay, with zero swimming and cycling history (didn't even own a road bike).

My husband Chad was so excited that I decided to do this. The last six years of running weren't nearly enough. He was thrilled at the idea of me not just running, but now also swimming and cycling. And he was really looking forward to me talking about this for the next year. And he was chomping at the bit to watch our girls Parker and Bridget more often while I was out doing ironman stuff. And the thing he looked forward to the most: how much money I would spend to prepare for this ironman.

As for that last part--the money--my friend Alana really saved the day. Alana is amazing. She's one of those ladies who's both a natural athlete and a persevering spirit--powerful combo, like a honey badger! She had plans to do an ironman herself, but that idea slipped away due to running injuries and such. I stewed a little about it, but I got the nerve to ask her if I could possibly borrow and/or buy any of her gear. She was so great; she let me borrow her bike, trainer, wetsuit, bike clothes, a swimsuit, books, etc... I owe her big time, and I will be getting all of these items back to her in the near future. Thank you again, Alana. I really appreciate it. And Chad does, too!

Alright. Let's prepare for this ironman. Let's start triathloning...

Lonestar Olympic distance, Galveston, Apr. '10: a couple of months before my last marathon--San Diego, a year after my back surgery. (See Part One if you need.) I did a few swims and three bike rides to prepare for this. What the hell? Not off to a very good start with Project Get Mojo Back. Oh, it'll be fine. I've been running, getting ready for the San Diego marathon. And I've done the Lonestar swim before. (Remember? Swimmer in a relay.) I can wing this. Here's a cut-and-paste of my account of this race from the post "Phewy, Buoys!":

"After this weekend, I was supposed to finally be able to say that I've done a triathlon. I've always turned my nose up at them, quickly concluding that I'm only interested in marathons. Well, that interest has been a struggle for me lately, and my solution was to shake things up and try out a tri. Unfortunately, though, Mother Nature wasn't cooperating; it was a windy morning--too windy for the buoys which wouldn't stay in position, so the swim was cancelled. So instead, I can now say I've done a duathlon. Disappointing, for sure, but it's just as well, because whoa--I was not prepared. I had only gone on three bike rides, with just one of them being a brick. Whatever! So silly. But I felt great on the 24.8 mile ride. It was fun. But the moment I stopped the bike to dismount, that confidence and fun evaporated. Major leg cramps--my calves, my thighs, even my groin. What the hell? And my 10K run felt like the last 6.2 miles of the marathon. I was running cradling a medicine ball. I definitely PR'd for walk breaks in a 10K. I knew going into this that it was going to be humbling for me, but geez--did it have to be so much so when I didn't even swim? A humble pie smashed in my face!" Time: 2:16--1:18:04 bike, 55:04 run (8:51 pace--lugging a giant medicine ball). Picture: I usually do a good job of sparing Chad and the girls from the hassle of being spectators at all of these events (except mile 18-ish at the Houston marathon because it's close to my mom's and easy to do), but this was a weekend without the girls, a getaway to my mom and stepfather's beach house in Galveston. So Chad came to see me finish up this race, with the camera.

San Diego Marathon, June '10: Okay, so my 10th marathon technically occurred after the ironman idea, but I was obviously already signed up and in the midst of training for it before I thought about an ironman. San Diego was my original attempt at getting my mojo back after my back surgery. 3:49. Discussed in Part One.

Austin Avia Olympic Tri, Sept. '10: I kept up my running,but I did zero swimming or cycling to prepare for this one.Time: 3:07:40--38:33 swim--my mean sidestroke, 1:27:35 bike (17 mph), 53:43 run (8:40 pace--still lugging that medicine ball) During the swim, my foot hit something under the water. Didn't hurt me, but I confusedly called out, "There's something down here!" (No response from anyone. Busy swimming I suppose.) I told my girls that I think there's a crashed spaceship in Town Lake. Pictures: Sharon and I waiting around before our swims, and then me putting on a smile for Bill Dwyer's camera. Bill is a big part of The Woodlands running community. Makes the effort to be supportive at so many events. Thanks, Bill.

IronStar Half Iron, Conroe, Nov. '10: Also did zero swimming to prepare but did go on three medium bike rides and one spin class. Really pulled it together and got serious, didn't I? Time: 6:35:28--47:49 swim, 3:22:49 bike (16.6 mph), 2:16:42 run (10:26 pace--monster medicine ball) Somehow managed to finish okay. That run, though...brutal. Really tough. One might think that since I was a runner, that the run would be my most confident discipline in the triathlon, but no; the run turns out to be the most difficult for me. I can't seem to resist trashing my legs with the bike's higher gears. I could also stand to train a little more. Picture: This picture (snapped by Russell McCoy) cracks me up because I'm so miserable, and my attitude at that moment is to turn around and rip that "Don't Stop Believing" sign in half.

Here's a cut-and-paste from another blog post discussing how I felt about my participation in these three triathlons:

"While setting up my bike and waiting around for each of these three tri's to begin, I felt like an imposter. I kept waiting for the triathlon police to shine a spotlight on me from their helicopter, calling out on their bullhorn, 'Okay, Mrs. Broyles. We know you haven't trained. You can't be here. Please leave immediately.'"

I had managed to fake it through a duathlon, an olympic and a half iron. The imposter knows, though, she can't fake it through an ironman. But my desperate, Hail Mary plan to get myself interested in races and training again had been a total failure so far. So now what?

I need to mention another event which occurred last August, a couple of weeks before the Avia Austin olympic: we moved to Austin. Yes, I left my good friend Sharon, and we would not be training for IMTX together. Not too cool of me, huh? Chad and I met in Austin during our last year at the University of Texas and lived there together till '99. (We also lived in San Diego for seven months during that time. Crazy kids. Another story.) Anyhow, after living in Houston for a few years and then The Woodlands for five years, we pulled the trigger on a dream to move back to Austin. Like I said in Part One, The Woodlands is a great place to live, especially if you have children, but Austin was in our sites, and we fired. Click on "Will I Get It Together in Time for IMTX?" to see evidence of me during our first few months in Austin, finding excuses to not train for the ironman. Pictures: The Warrior Dash in Conroe in March, a 5K that includes various obstacles and has nothing to do with ironman training. Group pic is me, Kerri, JoAnn, Johanne, Pam and Sharon. And then Sharon and I...I'd run through fire for you, Girl!

So bad-training me was on her own in Austin while Sharon joined a tri training group, and then she also had our friends Kelley and Cathy. Kelley has triathlon experience, including two recent half irons (IronStar and Lonestar), and has been swimming and riding with Sharon. Cathy is an accomplished runner who qualified for Boston this past year and has been going on runs with Sharon ever since I've known them--before I knew them! I'm so glad Kelley and Cathy have been there for her. Makes me feel better about skipping town and not training together. But what did I do after IronStar in Nov.? Well, still nothing but running for another couple of months. I needed motivation help, bad. Should I join a tri group? There are plenty of them in Austin. I somehow got my lazy self out of bed one early morning and went to a 5:45 swim with a group called T3. It was a free one-week trial that I had called about and set up. Amazing people working hard in the water at the crack of dawn. I was in awe and really enjoyed it. And then never went back. WTF??? Why, Sarah? What gives? Oh, I don't want to be in an official tri group. Too serious. I don't want to be serious. Or dedicated. Picture: (taken by Russell McCoy) Kelley and Sharon feelin' the love at IronStar. (Yikes, Cathy! I don't have recent pics of you. If you want to see beautiful Cathy, go back to Part One and click on the group photo of girlfriends where I talk about The Woodlands Running Club, or the two pics from the Texas Independence Relay.)

But this was your idea. Why are you doing an ironman if you're so defiant about it? Um, well. At first I was doing it because I thought I wanted to; I thought it would be neat to have that accomplishment. But now...I think I'm only doing it because I said I would.

So no tri group, but I knew at a minimum, I needed to be in a cycling group; I couldn't do all of this riding by myself. Too dangerous. I had gone alone on two bike rides in the 360/Bee Caves/620 area of Austin that I had no business doing, like a skier who can make it down a black diamond but who should really be sticking to the blues. For both of those rides, I got home and was like, "What just happened? Did I really just do that?"

A mom at Parker's taekwondo school told me about the women's cycling group Tough Cookies. Honestly, what drew me to them was that they were cheap--$100 for a year. Gotta keep that cost down for Chad! So I signed up with them this past January. And wow--I'm so, so grateful and lucky that I joined such an awesome, organized group. Katherine, the cycling coach, is absolutely incredible, and Tzatzil, the founder, has created a place for women to thrive in cycling, running and triathlon, and at the same time, have a special bond together.

MS150, Houston to Austin, Apr. 16-17 , '11: Yes, I decided to also do the MS150 with Tough Cookies. Why not? (aside from the fact that it pretty much cancelled out the money I saved from joining a less expensive group) It was five weeks before IMTX, and I was just drawn to doing my bike training like this. No, it's probably not the best way to train for the bike part of an ironman, but hey--nothing else I've done so far for this IM has been correct or acceptable. And doing the MS150 with Tough Cookies turned out to be such an amazing experience.

I could write a whole separate post about the weekend, but I know this has gotten quite lengthy, so I'm going to try to quick summarize:

Weather: beautiful, 175-mile ride. (There's three different starting lines on day 1, and two different routes on day 2, creating various combinations of total distances for the weekend.) I've heard of past years when there's been rain, and I'm just so thankful that we had such nice weather. Made all the difference. Definitely teeth chattering both mornings for the first 20 miles, but then it was sunny and warm the rest of the time. Oh, but it was cold in the tent late that night. I woke up and put on a long sleeve, pants and headband but still shivered in my sleeping bag.

Organization: so amazing. The support team was phenomenal. Thank you so much!

The women: Strong. Inspiring. So grateful to have been a part of them.

Two favorite moments: One--my dad and stepmother live close to La Grange, and they came to bring me some cough suppressant (I've had a cough for at least 10 days, but like an idiot, I didn't see the doctor before the big weekend, nor did I pack medicine. I finally saw the doctor the day after the race and found out what I already knew--I needed medicine! Got Advair, albuterol inhaler and an antibiotic.) Anyway, I hopped in the car with my dad and stepmother, and we ate red velvet cake at a popular Texas bakery called Weikel's. Kept that treat a secret when I got back to the Tough Cookies tent. :) Two--riding through Bastrop State Park. So awesome. Twelve miles or so surrounded by tall trees. Spurts of challenging, steep uphills, but then rewarded with really fun downhills. I felt like I was in a virtual video game.

So now one thing left to do...(cue dramatic music)...IMTX. Stay tuned till after May 21st to see if I made it across that finish line in under 17 hours. Or if I even made it to the starting line!

Waiting for the End. Part One--Marathon Mayhem

2011-03-31T18:00:00.002-05:00

A 3-part, self-indulgent series of blog posts about my journey from marathon mayhem, to triathlon desperation, to reaching a point of satisfied surrender.

Part One: Marathon Mayhem

I started running in 2004. I was a stay-at-home mommy with my little girl Parker who had recently celebrated her 1st birthday. While being at home with her and our pug Mona in our bungalow in the Houston Heights was something to cherish, I've got this restless part of me that struggles with enjoying the moment. I started going for some runs at Houston's Memorial Park, pushing my sweet Parker in the BOB stroller. And after a short time, I decided on a marathon. Very typical for me. No 10K, no half marathon--jump right to the 26.2. Not much official running past really. I played field hockey for all of high school and track my freshman year. I quit track, though, because...damn! Too hard. Too much pressure. When that gun goes off, it's just you and that painful burning in your legs and lungs, struggling to get to that finish line as fast as you can. Sorry coaches. No track for me.

I joined the local Jeff Galloway group, who preaches that with scheduled walk breaks, anyone can get themselves across the marathon finish line, and that claim was very attractive to ignorant me, who had quite the unhealthy past during college and years after (see "Hopefully the Year of the Tiger...and Not the Kitten"). In October of 2004, I lost my marathon virginity and ran the Twin Cities Marathon in 4:47. (Sounds like a random race for a Houstonian to do, but I had made friends with someone in the Galloway group that was from Minneapolis and running it, and it sounded nice. And it was. They call it "the most beautiful urban marathon in America." And you can take your kiddos to the Mall of America that has Camp Snoopy. Fun! Whatever. Anyway...) After Twin Cities, I stayed with the Galloway group till the Houston Marathon in Jan. '05, keeping up my 4:1 strategy they had taught me (run 4 min., walk 1 min.). That race was a 4:35.

The original plan was to achieve a marathon, and then my husband Chad and I would like to have another baby. And that's just what we did. A couple of months after the Houston marathon, I was pregnant with Bridget. And another event--we moved to The Woodlands, a community just north of Houston, a few weeks before the Houston marathon, where Chad grew up. Anytime Chad had brought up the idea of moving there, I was adamant that we would never do that. (Born and raised within Houston. Preposterous to consider living outside of it.), but our little bungalow Heights life had begun to feel more crowded with a toddler...and the desire for another baby. So I admitted that The Woodlands was a good idea for us. And it really was. Such a nice place to raise kids. And it turns out--such an awesome place to run!

Like so many, I fell in love with the marathon, and one experience wasn't enough. (I'm looking at my first two marathons as one experience.) So after Bridget was born on Dec. 26, 2005, I soon signed up for a Luke's Locker program (local running store). From there, I found out about two things: One, the tradition of the Wed. night track group with Dan Green, a charismatic, super-sweet, super-successful coach who led the The Woodlands High School boys' cross-country team to 15 state titles and many more accomplishments. And he also won the original Houston marathon. Wed. nights with Coach Green was so fun, and I'm so glad to have had that. My running improved a lot; I had definitely moved on from the Galloway walk breaks. (Not that there's anything wrong with them!) Also, Parker got so much out of her time with him and the other coaches at his summer camp and the kids cross-country meets. Funny thing: Chad went to Coach Green's running camps when he was little.

The second thing I discovered from that Luke's Locker program is The Woodlands Running Club.This group is a major part of The Woodlands' running community, and for me, coupled with Wed. nights with Coach Green, was what made running in The Woodlands so amazing. (And the many, many, flat, sidewalk trails!) I made some great friends from this club.

Rest of my timeline...

Las Vegas Marathon--Dec. '06: my first time to qualify for Boston. 3:40:32. A brutal battle to the finish line-27 seconds to spare. The mile markers were terribly off. I left my pace group around mile 20--not because I knew the severity of the trouble brewing; I had just decided to finish the rest of the race on my own. Thank God I did that. That race created chaos with the poorly placed mile markers. As I crossed the finish line, my pace group leader and his wife flew right by me, obviously in a panic to make the 3:40 time the husband was responsible for. Out of our group, the three of us were the only ones to make the time. I dry heaved right after crossing the finish line. Literally a gut-wrenching experience. I happened to bump into the pace leader and his wife in the hotel lobby the next day, and he told me that the Clif Bar Pace Team would never return again to Las Vegas. Picture: my mom and I in the hotel room before heading to the starting line. She succeeded in her goal, too--to walk the half in under 3 hours. She's a fast walker!

Boston marathon--Apr. '07: went with my two friends Alana and Sharon and our husbands. This 111th Boston Marathon was nearly cancelled due to a late chilly storm. Our poor husbands had a rougher time than we did in a way; tough day to be a spectator. Sitting in a little tent in Hopkington that a guy let us borrow because his wave was about to start is a memory that I love. (Actually, Alana and I were in the one-man tent. Sweet Sharon sacrificed herself and braved the weather in the random guy's camping chair and her trash bag covering her.) I had injured my hip flexor weeks before Boston and hadn't run that whole time, so this marathon was really difficult. 4:42, over an hour slower than my qualifying time. My hip was still hurting, and the rest of me fell apart hours after the race, like someone had taken a bat to me. I did not want that wheelchair or medical tent at the finish line--was very annoyed and just wanted to be left alone so I could get the F back to the hotel. But the next day? Yes. I was happy to snag a wheelchair to get to our gate at the airport.

Marathons of Texas Challenge--Dec., Jan., Feb., '07-'08: Did this silliness with my friends Carrie and Sharon. You run Dallas, Houston and Austin--each a month apart, and you get a jacket. Oooo, ahhh. I tried to qualify again for Boston but just couldn't duplicate my performance in Vegas. 3:42, 3:42, and 3:51.

Texas Independence Relay--Mar. '08: a 200+ mile relay race from Gonazales ,TX to the San Jacinto Monument. The inaugural year. Our team was called "The Athletic Girls Next Door." Plenty of fun, but this was a one-time event for me. Couldn't wrap my brain around doing it again.

Lonestar Triathlon. Quarter Iron Relay--Apr. '08: Galveston. This was a for-fun idea. I had no interest in triathlons at this time. Never thought I would seriously participate in one. A third of one was enough. First place! Helps to have a super cyclist and a raging runner. I was the obvious weak link in our team (Look at that professional swimsuit I'm sporting under the wetsuit), but Carrie and Kerri made up for it, giving us the win for the women's relay category.

San Antonio Marathon--Nov. '08: This was the inaugural Rock & Roll marathon for San Antonio. And this was when I experienced my most dedicated, successful training. Those failed attempts to PR during the Marathons of Texas Challenge were disappointing. I wanted a new PR, and fortunately, I was able to pull it off. 3:35. Chad and I stayed at the Hyatt Hill Country resort for this weekend. A sweet little getaway. And he did the half marathon--his most successful bout with running and training for a race.

Houston Marathon--Jan. '09: a couple of months after San Antonio. Again, my training and remaining injury-free were at their best. The night before this race, we stayed in town at my mom and stepfather's house. I warned my girls, particularly Parker, not to do their typical shenanigans at Granny and Poppy's that night--that Mommy's race was really important to her and that she needed a good night's sleep. For all of my previous marathons, the girls weren't with me the night before (besides Twin Cities when Parker was a toddler. Remember? Camp Snoopy). The race was either out of town and they hadn't come on the trip, or for the past two Houston races, they had stayed with Chad's dad and stepmother who also live in Houston. This time, though, for whatever reason, I thought, "Oh, it'll be fine. We can all stay at my mom's." Well...at about 3:00 am, my mother's instinct woke me up. I walked downstairs and found my girls giggling in the living room. I saw red. Livid. Went nuts. Growled and snarled. Put those bad girls back in their beds. And then I cried at my loss of temper. It was quite a scene. Not the plush, pre-race experience that I had had at the resort in San Antonio. Bridget managed to go back to sleep, but I couldn't recover from the episode, so I got Parker out of her bed (because I just knew she was still awake, too, and I wanted her to forgive me for my yelling), and we moved into the kitchen together. (Chad remained asleep the whole time and had no idea any of this was happening.) I felt so awful about my misbehavior. I was still angry, too, though. Couldn't believe she did exactly what I warned her not to do. Like hit-it-out-of-the-ballpark naughtiness. But I tried hard to make up for my explosion. We talked about the race. I showed her all of my flavors of Gu's I was going to take. I showed her my pace bracelet. My bib number and pinning it to my shorts. Showed her the map of the course and where she and Daddy and Bridget would be standing around mile 18 to see me pass by and wave. I think I had put out the fire. She ended up riding with me and Chad to the starting line downtown to drop me off. I'm so glad we stayed up together and that she rode with me to the start; it ended up being a good mother-daughter moment. But I was still shaken up about my breakdown. Crying is not something you typically do before your marathon. And then minutes before the gun goes off, I discover my beloved Garmin's battery is dead (GPS watch); it didn't charge overnight for whatever reason. Ugh. And it was already in the mid-60's. Too hot. This race was going to suck.

But with all of that, it turned out to be my day. 3:32:00 (gotta include the zero seconds!). You just never know. I wondered if the girls getting me up extra early was actually what made the difference--because I had eaten my breakfast earlier than usual. Whatever the case, I was ecstatic. Picture: none from the race, so I included a shot of my firecracker girls at the zoo a couple of weeks before the race.

Disney Princess Half Marathon--Mar. '09: I love DisneyWorld, and when I heard about this inaugural race (I seem to like inaugurals), I was all over it. I had run two half marathons before, but this was my first (and only) time to race one. 1:41. I wanted 1:39, and I could give all kinds of excuses as to why that didn't happen (walking around the parks the day before the race, Daylight Savings the night before the race--"Spring forward!", wearing a pink tennis outfit), but really, I just couldn't pull it off. Fun race, though! Especially for a Disney dork like me. I loved it. And the best medal ever: tiara-shaped with diamond and amethyst rhinestones. See "Tomboy Power" to read a little more about this race.

Bikram Yoga 60-Day Challenge--Mar. to May '09: In the midst of all that training for San Antonio and Houston, I knew that I was going to want to switch gears after the recent marathons and the Disney race. I had been dabbling in Bikram yoga since 2002. Would take some classes, totally drop it, come back, leave again, and so on. But I really liked it a lot. So I asked some of my running friends if they might want to do a 60-Day challenge with me--starting the Monday after Spring Break. This was a major change from marathon training, obviously. And that was so nice! Bikram is a kick-butt workout. So amazing to have your heart rate jacked up like that when you haven't even left your little spot on your yoga mat. Picture: Celebrating at Hubble & Hudson restaurant after our 60th class. Sharon (my partner in crime for so many of these athletic endeavors), Alana (Fauna Extreme's gorgeous website model), JoAnn (my inspiration for what I wrote about Fauna Extreme's pronghorn), Kerri (Fauna Extreme's number one customer), me.

Fauna Extreme is born: spring, '09: My inspiring animal athletes. I love you all. Helping me persevere and overcome. Blog posts about the beginning: "Part 1 Complete: The Shirts Are Here." , "Part 2 Complete: Colorful, But Small Shirts" and "When Did I Become So Annoying?"

Rollerskating accident. Severe disc herniation--May '09: This lovely event happened literally 2 days after the Bikram challenge. What if it had happened on like day 58? What the hell would I have done? I don't want to rewrite about it, so this is a cut-and-paste from another blog entry:

"But...literally two days after we completed that rewarding commitment, my yoga mat was pulled out from under me. I was at a roller skating birthday party for my daughter Parker's friend. Parker and I were on the rink, holding hands, facing each other. Not moving, just standing there together, holding hands. Parker lost her balance and fell...and when she fell, my arms were ripped in a downward motion while I remained standing with my knees locked, up on the roller skates. It was the perfect equation for my L4/L5 disc to explode into my spinal canal.

I had been living with functional sciatica for over a year. Run marathons with it. PR'd with it. But this was sciatica x 100. Both sides of my butt and thighs numb. Insane back pain in the beginning (the muscles locked up around the herniation) that a week or so later whined down to a tolerable, odd-feeling pain (the muscles releasing somewhat and then the effects of the disc squishing my nerves). Three spine surgeons and one chiropractor said I had to have surgery. (Two opinions weren't enough for my state of denial.) 9 out of 10 times a disc herniation can be treated with physical therapy, anti-inflammatories, rest and time, but I was that 1 out of 10. Had to have the surgery. Think of a disc as a jelly doughnut. Half the jelly shot out of my L4/L5 doughnut, occupying 90% of my spinal canal."

Picture: My MRI about 10 months after surgery. Can you see it? Click on the photo; get a good look at this ugly MRI. (That's how one doctor referred to it.) The second disc from the bottom; it's a flat tire that's sticking out and pushing against that white spinal canal that's nice and wide next to my higher vertebrae. Yes, the disc above it is bulging, too, and the one below, but they aren't causing any symptoms, and most MRIs show bulging discs. Whatever. Ugh. Crazy. I'm all good to go, but these squished nerves you see here are the ones that control bladder and bowel function. I never had those symptoms, thank God, but that's something that once lost, doctors can't bring back. Glad to have gotten on that operating table!

Las Vegas Half Marathon: Dec., '09: My stepfather passed away to cancer in Aug. of this year. He had also been on that Las Vegas Marathon trip in '06, and he also was out there walking the half marathon, like my mom. Not in under 3 hours like my mom! But he did complete the race. As a way to think about him, celebrate him...my mom, stepsister, sister-in-law and I went to Vegas and walked the half. I stayed with my speedy mom and we crossed the finish around 3:12 I think. We did have to wait in a porta potty line for at least five minutes, though. Just saying! Turns out 3+ hours of fast walking makes you about as sore as 3 1/2 hours of running.

Texas Half Marathon, Kingwood--Jan. 1, '10: So Las Vegas was technically my first race after my back surgery, but that was walking. This Texas Half Marathon was really my first. The accident was May, the surgery was June, I started running again in August, and now here I was on New Year's Day at a starting line. Kinda scary, but my doctor had reassured me that as long as I wasn't having any symptoms, I could run to my heart's content. The tire (disc) was already flat; no more air (disc material) was going to come out. 1:46:36. Ugh, I had lost a lot of speed. Why does running have to be so unforgiving? Rather disheartening to have all of my hard running work, along with 60 straight days of Bikram, ripped away from me. This race might be where I lost my mojo: New Year's Day, early morning, alone driving, freezing outside, leaving my warm bed to go run up and down a sidewalk trail (how this race is set up), huffing and puffing, hearing a new voice inside, asking, "Why?"

San Diego Marathon--June, '10: San Diego was my goal of running a marathon one year after back surgery. And it all went fine. 3:49. I brought back my Galloway walk breaks to help me do it. But I was hoping this accomplishment would return me to the nest of runners who love to race and to train and to feel the challenge. It didn't. What was I going to do? Picture: early morning before Chad has to drive me yet again to another starting line. See him? Who do you think the title of this blog post series is about?

Stay tuned in a few weeks for Waiting for the End--Part 2: Triathlon Desperation.

Name Who Sings That Tune!

2011-02-09T15:44:00.000-06:00

I love, love to listen to my ipod when I run. Never been able to embrace the gentle peace of nature around me while my heart rate is jacked up. (But I do embrace, of course, all of the spirits of Fauna Extreme's animal athletes!) Don't get me wrong, though--I enjoy seeing deer, rabbits, sunsets and all that while I'm running...but I'm happier seeing them with some tunes blaring in my ears.

So here's a fun, easy contest. Name who sings these songs that boom inside my brain while I'm pounding the pavement. The winner picks their prize--a Fauna Extreme shirt, necklace or book. Email your answers to info@faunaextreme.com. On March 3rd, whoever has given me the most correct answers, wins. Or, if someone gets them all right before the 3rd, then they're the winner. And guys--please feel free to enter, too--makes for a nice gift!

***Please note. Very important*** One should never judge what someone listens to when she's out there in the heat, humidity, cold, wind, and pain. That effort inspires different tastes than what you might listen to when daydreaming in your car or preparing a lovely meal in your kitchen.

***Also!*** Don't be shy to submit only a couple of answers. Maybe hardly anyone will try, and you'll be the winner!

Okay. Here we go. Hard for me to gauge how easy or tough these are. Depends on you.

So who sings it?.....

ANSWERS... (also--click here if you'd like to see my entire running playlist)

1. "Well I've never prayed, but tonight I'm on my knees, yeah. I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah." The Verve, "Bittersweet Symphony"

2. "And can I make it? Damn right, I be on the next flight. Payin' cash, first class, sittin' next to Vanna White." Nelly, "Ride Wit Me"

3. "Because you can't, you won't, and you don't stop." Beastie Boys, "Sure Shot"

4. "This bottle of Stevens awakens ancient feelings..." Weezer, "Say It Ain't So"

5. "All I ever wanted, All I ever needed, Is here in my arms." Depeche Mode, "Enjoy The Silence"

6. "Your bridges were burned, and now it's your turn, to cry..." Justin Timberlake, "Cry Me A River"

"It’s funny how you just break down

Waitin' on some sign
I pull up to the front of your driveway
With magic soakin' my spine

Can you read my mind?
Can you read my mind?" The Killers, "Read My Mind"

8. "In between the cover of another perfect wonder, and it's so white as snow. Running through the field where all my tracks will be concealed, and there's nowhere to go." Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Snow (Hey Oh)"

9. "Cause the way I feel, I'm strong enough to go to the club, Or the corner pub and lift the whole liquor counter up, Cause I'm raising the bar, I shoot for the moon, But I'm too busy gazing at stars, I feel amazing and..." Eminem, "Not Afraid"

10. "'Cause I always got to worry 'bout the paybacks, some punk that I roughed up way back, comin' back after all these years. Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat that's the way it is." Tupac, "Changes"

"I been in the game for ten years makin rap tunes. Ever since honeys was wearin sassoon" (same artist but also featuring ???) Tupac and Dr. Dre, "California"

11. "Got to find a reason, a reason things went wrong. Got to find a reason why my money's all gone." Sublime, "What I Got"

12. "Don't call it a comeback. I been here for years. Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear" LL Cool J, "Mama Said Knock You Out"

13.

"the sun has gone down and the moon has come up,
and long ago somebody left with the cup.
but he's striving and driving and hugging the turns.

and thinking of someone for whom he still burns." Cake, "The Distance"

14. "You know how long I've been on ya? Since Prince was on Apollonia. Since OJ had isotoners. Don't act like I never told ya" Kanye West, "Stronger"

15.

(all the same band)

"And as the walls come down, And as I look in your eyes, My fear begins to fade, Recalling all of the times I have died, and will die. It's all right. (I don't mind) I don't mind. I don't mind. I don't mind."

"Dim my eyes, if they should compromise our fulcrum; want and need - if I need it I might as well be gone."

"Just not enough. I need more. Nothing seems to satisfy. I said, I don't want it. I just need it. To breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive." Tool-- "H.," "Jambi," "Stinkfist"

Will I Get It Together in Time for IMTX?

2011-01-07T08:47:00.000-06:00

I really need to put up a recent blog post. I've been neglecting you, my little Fauna Extreme!

Life in a new town--exploring new places and activities with my family, organizing and mending our fixer-upper house, the holidays, adding a puppy to our family (so 2 dogs & 2 cats now--crazy), and oh, yeah--training for the MS150 and Ironman Texas. That last one--IMTX--has been the nagging thorn in my side. I signed up for the damn thing months ago as a drastic, desperate, pathetic attempt to get over this loss of mojo with my running.

(some of this is old news. repeating myself a bit. sorry.)

In May of '09, I was at my best in terms of running. I had recently finished my most dedicated marathon training and run a PR time that January at the Houston marathon. Then I raced a half marathon for the first time at the inaugural Disney Princess in March, which I fell a couple of minutes short of what I wanted, but it was a super fun race, and I'm a major Disney dork. And after that!...a few of my friends and I shifted gears and completed a Bikram yoga 60-day challenge, which was such a great experience.

But...literally two days after we completed that rewarding commitment, my yoga mat was pulled out from under me. I was at a roller skating birthday party for my daughter Parker's friend. Parker and I were on the rink, holding hands, facing each other. Not moving, just standing there together, holding hands. Parker lost her balance and fell...and when she fell, my arms were ripped in a downward motion while I remained standing with my knees locked, up on the roller skates. It was the perfect equation for my L4/L5 disc to explode into my spinal canal.

I had been living with functional sciatica for over a year. Run marathons with it. PR'd with it. But this was sciatica x 100. Both sides of my butt and thighs numb. Insane back pain in the beginning (the muscles locked up around the herniation) that a week or so later whined down to a tolerable, odd-feeling pain (the muscles releasing somewhat and then the effects of the disc squishing my nerves). Three spine surgeons and one chiropractor said I had to have surgery. (Two opinions weren't enough for my state of denial.) 9 out of 10 times a disc herniation can be treated with physical therapy, anti-inflammatories, rest and time, but I was that 1 out of 10. Had to have the surgery. Think of a disc as a jelly doughnut. Half the jelly shot out of my L4/L5 doughnut, occupying 90% of my spinal canal.

The surgery was a total success; I'm really lucky. And I achieved a goal of running a marathon one year afterwards (San Diego, June '10). So my reduced-fat disc with only half the jelly has held up fine so far, and doctors have told me that I can keep on running to my heart's content.

But that's the problem now. Since the accident, my heart just hasn't been into it. I feel like I've fallen out of the running nest and am now lost. Lots of interior dialogue like, "What are we all doing out here?", "What's the point of all of this?", "This is stupid."

And so came the desperate idea of the ironman. Not a sprint or an olympic triathlon or even a half iron. That would be too sensible. My ridiculous, all-or-nothing personality goes straight to the IM. Idiot.

So far, I've been able to fake my way through 3 tri's:

1. Lonestar olympic distance last April in Galveston. The one I actually did a little swimming for and went on a total of 3 bike rides. Unfortunately, this race became a duathlon because of windy conditions for the buoys.
2. Austin Avia olympic this past September. Did zero swimming and riding.
3. IronStar half iron in November. Also zero swimming but did go on 3 long-ish bike rides and 1 spin class. Time--6:35

While setting up my bike and waiting around for each of these three tri's to begin, I felt like an imposter. I kept waiting for the triathlon police to shine a spotlight on me from their helicopter, calling out on their bullhorn, "Okay, Mrs. Broyles. We know you haven't trained. You can't be here. Please leave immediately."

One could say that the mojo-saving idea has not worked so far.

I can't fake it through an ironman, though; even idiot me knows that. Especially IMTX which will be hot and humid. Ugh. I must say, though, I love my mean side-stroke I've got going. I'm an angry pair of scissors, slashing through the water. So I know I've got to amp up that swim training, but I'm keeping my side-stroke. I'll throw in some freestyle, but that side-stroke is a lifesaver for me.

And for the bike, I needed a cycling group here in Austin, and I decided to join Tough Cookies. Really nice, great group of women. And I figure, why not add more to the insanity? So I signed up for the MS150 with Tough Cookies which is 5 weeks before the IM. "Hey, why not?"

So there it is. I've updated the Fauna Extreme blog. How do I tie this post to the theme of animal athletes? I guess I'll just say that like the honey badger and the bar-tailed godwit, I haven't given up yet. Let's hope I embrace their perseverance.

Here are some shots of me not training for the ironman:

Having to put in a new driveway. Exploring the greenbelt.

Before and after shots of our fireplace. Austin Pug Fest Trick-or-treating and touring the capitol. Before and after shots of a hallway in our home. (The previous owners really liked color. Had to repaint literally the entire house.)

Dance and tae kwon do. My daughter Bridget's birthday. Hanging the Christmas lights. (photos by Bridget & Parker) Our new puppy Kirby, who loves to chew, pee, bark, whine and be wild. Santa.

The Fauna Extreme Gallery Featuring the Work of Artist Paul Sanchez

2010-09-23T13:19:00.000-05:00

I've been neglecting Fauna Extreme for a bit (and will probably continue to do so for the time being). My family and I moved to Austin a month ago, and organizing our new house and our new life has become the priority. Our house is so great--I love it! And I'm excited about this latest little decorating achievement: a gallery of all of the Fauna Extreme critters. We have a side entrance to our home with this hallway area and stairwell that is perfect for displaying the beautiful drawings of artist Paul Sanchez. (Click on the pics--get a closer look!) Paul was the first artist I contacted about creating the animal athletes. And he was awesome right from the start! A home run. Thanks, Paul. You've got a gallery of your work in Austin now! :)

Our kitty Fireball--the first official visitor to the gallery.

Polar Bear. Ursus maritimus

2010-07-08T21:53:00.000-05:00

(So this is a preview--click on the pic, see what you think. I'm just being super slow with making these pendants--sorry. I blame summer and being in the midst of trying to sell my house and move to a new one. Bear with me! I haven't put the resin on these yet, which I'm scared to do. It's tricky stuff, and I've had zero luck so far. Frustrating. Hopefully I'll get it right this time. Stay tuned.)

You're on your own.

A solo mission.

No one to hold you up. No one to cheer you on.

Just you and your will to survive the journey.

But there's no end in sight.

How much further can you go?

How much longer can you last?

Doubt, fear, despair--they're growing within you, but you're not giving up.

And then there it is, the finish line.

You see it. You're going to make it.

Because you're a polar bear--one of the strongest swimmers on the planet.

The "sea bear" is classified as a marine animal because she spends more time in the water and on sea ice than she does on land. She's got the perfect swimmer's bod for these extreme conditions. Her front paws are like oars, the back paws like rudders, and she has a thick layer of blubber for buoyancy and warmth. She has been spotted hundreds of miles offshore, using the sea ice to travel these big distances in search of ringed seals.

In recent years, disappearing sea ice due to rising water temperatures has forced many polar bears to remain on shore for longer periods of time but then also to take on riskier, longer open water swims. They are capable of going nonstop for 60 miles, but only when forced to do so--this drastic distance is a sign of the bear fighting for her survival. In 2008, polar bears were listed as Threatened under the Endangered Species Act. They are the first species to be officially connected to the issue of global warming.

To learn more about this inspiring animal athlete, visit Polar Bears International.

The Sea Bear Is on Her Way

2010-06-30T11:28:00.000-05:00

The polar bear is swimming on her way! Here's a peak--beautiful work from artist Paul Sanchez--the creator of all of my Fauna Extreme critters. Thanks, Paul, so much. Next is to get her on some necklaces! This is happening slower than I had planned--summer vacation, kids at home, etc... Stay tuned.

Win Fauna Extreme's Color-Enhancing Book!

2010-06-17T21:20:00.001-05:00

School is out for summer, but here's a fun way for girls to keep their minds sharp.

Blue Planet Green Living is putting on a contest for one lucky girl to win the Fauna Extreme Color-Enhancing Book! Check it out and spread the word to all the girls you know to enter!

Fauna Extreme publishes a coloring book targeted to young girls. But it doesn’t have a princess theme or a cute kitty or an adorable pony in it. This is a coloring book about power and strength and athleticism. And I’m going to tell you about it — as well as about a contest to win one. But first, I want to go back into time and talk a bit about the world I grew up in. Please bear with me.

A Different Era

When I was a little girl (oh, about a million years ago), boys got to do all the cool things. They played with trucks. They played Army. They were daredevils. They even occasionally swore (swear words weren’t as commonplace among kids as they are today). I didn’t want to be a “girly-girl.” I wanted to be tough, too. I had opinions. I liked being physical and running and jumping. But I was frequently told, “You can’t do that; you’re a girl.” It didn’t always stop me, but sometimes it did.

Broyles' daughters colored some of the pages to inspire others to do the same. Illustration by Houston artist Paul Sanchez. Photo: Sarah Broyles

Where I grew up, in Los Angeles, California; Cedar Rapids, Iowa; and Dallas, Texas, among others, girls didn’t play competitive sports in high school. Oh, we had one girl on the tennis team at my high school in Dallas. And there was a drill team, where the girls wore tight satin shorts matching tops, boots — and gloves. (Yeah, it was a long time ago.) And the year before that, when I lived in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, there was a synchronized swim team. But we girls were offered nothing else even remotely athletic besides cheer leading. Both of my high schools had co-ed cheer leading squads.

I loved to run, and probably would have been a sprinter, but we didn’t have that as an option. In fact, running track didn’t enter my consciousness as a possibility until I was an adult living in rural Iowa. The smaller cities in Iowa had had girls’ basketball for decades. It was six-on-six basketball back then, a modified version from what the boys played, but at least it was a competitive high school sport. When I learned that small-town high school girls had been playing sports for years, though I hadn’t even been able to conceive of it, I felt cheated. Why should the boys have all the fun?

This is a very different era, and Title 9 funding has created a space for girls to participate in competitive sports. But let’s get real here. Even today, girls and women don’t always see athleticism as a positive thing. Though it’s a far cry from the “a woman’s place is in the home” world of Father Knows Best and Leave It to Beaver (two shows my family watched religiously), it is still a sexist world. Girls and women are valued for how we look — often at least as much, and sometimes more than — how we perform in sports or school or on the job. Sadly, that hasn’t changed so much from the ’60s. Don’t believe me? Look at just about any magazine cover targeted to women or to men.

Athletes may admire each other, and parents are typically very happy to see their daughters, as well as their sons, striving for physical strength and prowess. But once high school is over, many of those same girls who played basketball, soccer, or volleyball are strutting their stuff, trying to look sexy and cool instead of competent.

We live in a university town, and we see it all too often. It makes me sad to watch young women with brains and talent choose the sleaziest clothes they can find to get attention, rather than awing the guys with their smarts, their sense of humor, or their grace on the basketball court. Isn’t there something wrong with this picture? Or is it really just my old-fashioned perception of the world?

Celebrate Being a Girl

So how does all this relate to a coloring book?

The Peregrine Falcon, colored by Broyles' daughter. Illustration by Paul Sanchez. Photo: Sarah Broyles

Sarah Broyles, the publisher of the Fauna Extreme coloring book, has two daughters. The younger one likes “girly” stuff. The older girl, Parker, considers herself a “tomboy.” (That’s a term I used to describe myself from time to time when I was her age.) And that troubles Sarah. One day, Parker, declared to Sarah that she was a tomboy. Sarah tried to convince her it was a sexist term that limits the things girls are “supposed to” like. Parker replied,

“So I’m not a girl. I don’t like dumb, girly stuff. I’m a tomboy.”

Reflecting on their conversation, Sarah wrote on her blog,

Errr. This isn’t the thought process I want for her. She’s supposed to be proud of being a girl. Feeling that girl power! Not downing her gender and grouping herself with the “cooler” boys. You don’t have to like pink and you don’t have to like ponies, but you do have to understand and believe that all girls are awesome, even the pink pony girls. Those girls are just as strong and cool and amazing. In fact, I’m just now realizing that I think “girly girl” is a sexist term, too, and I’m not going to use it anymore. It implies that liking feminine things means you’re not a strong girl. Nah uh. Trust me–Miss Bridget [her younger daughter] has an independent spirit of her own and is just as strong and opinionated as her older sister. Her preschool teacher would agree!

Femininity does not hinder strength; it enhances it. Feminine power is more captivating than your basic, run-of-the-mill manpower. Don’t worry; I’m not about to bash guys. They’re great, too, of course. But when strength and power and talent are entangled with femininity, some kind of X factor erupts, creating a beauty in athleticism that I just don’t feel when watching a man perform in whatever sport. What am I trying to say? We don’t run or bike or swim as fast as the guys. We don’t throw as far. We don’t hit as hard. We don’t lift as much. And that’s exactly what’s so badass about us. We have some kind of emotional underdog quality that’s riveting to watch and feel part of. We are the inspiring gender.

Sarah, a marathon athlete who didn’t start running until after she’d had two children, admires animal athletes and was inspired to create beautiful running tees, necklaces, and now a coloring book that celebrates them. She calls her business Fauna Extreme.

Fauna Extreme is about ladies embracing animal athletes — feeling inspired by their speed, strength, stamina and tenacity — inspiring us to persevere and overcome. Simply put — Fauna Extreme is about girl power via the wonders of wildlife …

Beautiful Images, Fascinating Facts

African Elephant, as colored by Broyles' daughter. Illustration by Paul Sanchez. Photo: Sarah Broyles

The coloring book is filled with the same detailed images of the animals that grace the Fauna Extreme tees and necklaces. But there’s more to the Fauna Extreme coloring book than just images of beautiful animals. Sarah has written a profile of each animal, featuring fascinating facts such as these paragraphs about the cheetah (Acinonyx jubatus):

The “greyhound” of cats is built for rapid results. Her long legs, powerful heart, and strong arteries add up to some serious speed. She can accelerate from 0 to 40 mph in three strides and reach 70 mph in seconds. She’s the only cat with specialized, semi-retractable claws, gripping the ground like spikes on a track. She can maintain a high-speed chase for 400 to 600 yards, but then she’s totally exhausted and stops for a much needed rest. Upon winning her trophies, she must quickly hide them from stronger bullies who will steal her precious prizes.

There are approximately 10,000 cheetahs left on Earth today, placing her on the list of Endangered Species. To learn more about protecting this animal athlete, visit the Cheetah Conservation Fund at www.cheetah.org.

Beyond the 12 beautiful images and profiles, Broyles has included seven pages of review questions and activities. She donates a portion of all sales to wildlife conservation funds.

There are other good things about the book, too. The pages are made from 50% post-consumer waste and the cover is 100% post-consumer waste. The paper is processed free of chlorine, and all print is made with wax-based inks. To top it off, the coloring book was “created with 100% wind power.”

So, if you know and love a little girl, and you want her to identify with the strength and grace of some of the world’s most amazing animals, get her a Fauna Extreme coloring book. Help her to understand that it’s both cool and beautiful to be athletic, to have her own power, and to be exactly who she is. (Boys may like it, too, but the text and messaging is directed to girls.)

Win a Fauna Extreme Coloring Book

Broyles is giving away one copy of the Fauna Extreme coloring book to a Blue Planet Green Living reader. Though the coloring book is targeted to girls, boys are welcome to enter. Here are the guidelines:

Entrants must be younger than 18 and live in the U.S.
Choose an animal they admire for its “speed, strength, stamina, strategy, or spunk.”
Either draw a picture of the animal illustrating how it exhibits the above characteristices OR write no more than one page describing how the animal fits those criteria.
Send an email to Sarah Broyles with your scanned drawing attached and/or your ext typed into the email.
Your parents must sign your work to verify that you have permission to participate.
Include your name, age, and complete mailing address.

Sarah Broyles and her daughters will determine the winner based on how well the entries describe or illustrate the characteristics of an animal’s “speed, strength, stamina, strategy, or spunk.” The winner will be announced on both Blue Planet Green Living and the Fauna Extreme website. Selected entrants will have their artwork or written work posted on both sites. A parent must sign to indicate that they give their child permission to have original work posted on the websites. No work will be returned.

The entry deadline is noon, July 15, 2010. Good luck!

Julia Wasson

Blue Planet Green Living (Home Page)

Fauna Extreme Tees – For Inspiration and Style

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Tags: Coloring Book, contest, Fauna Extreme, Girls, Role Models, Self Image, Women

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The Next Fauna Extreme Athlete--Who Should it Be?

2010-05-14T08:32:00.000-05:00

Who should be the next addition to the Fauna Extreme lineup? The polar bear, the quarter horse or the husky (the sled dog)?

--The polar bear is beautiful, incredible but also threatened and needing some love.
--Many girls love horses, so there's some potential there to make some good sales. :)
--And then there's the husky--the sled dog--who is an astonishing athlete that no one comes even close to.

So who should it be? Tough call! All three would make great additions. Cast your vote! Results next Friday the 21st, and then my artist Paul Sanchez will get to drawing!

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Fauna Extreme

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(Trying to Get) Back to Bikram

Waiting for the End: Part Three--Satisfied Surrender

Waiting for the End. Part Two--Triathlon Desperation

Waiting for the End. Part One--Marathon Mayhem

Name Who Sings That Tune!

Will I Get It Together in Time for IMTX?

The Fauna Extreme Gallery Featuring the Work of Artist Paul Sanchez

Polar Bear. Ursus maritimus

The Sea Bear Is on Her Way

Win Fauna Extreme's Color-Enhancing Book!

A Different Era

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Win a Fauna Extreme Coloring Book

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The Next Fauna Extreme Athlete--Who Should it Be?




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Fauna Extreme

The Mysterious Middle--Guest Writing for MizFitOnline

The Colorado River 100

(Trying to Get) Back to Bikram

Waiting for the End: Part Three--Satisfied Surrender

Waiting for the End. Part Two--Triathlon Desperation

Waiting for the End. Part One--Marathon Mayhem

Name Who Sings That Tune!

Will I Get It Together in Time for IMTX?

The Fauna Extreme Gallery Featuring the Work of Artist Paul Sanchez

Polar Bear. Ursus maritimus

The Sea Bear Is on Her Way

Win Fauna Extreme's Color-Enhancing Book!

A Different Era

Celebrate Being a Girl

Beautiful Images, Fascinating Facts

Win a Fauna Extreme Coloring Book

Comments

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The Next Fauna Extreme Athlete--Who Should it Be?