“Glamour Gal” Beauty Tips 101

By

Lisa Butler

                                                Don’t Rush a Wax Job
Vanity drives me.  Each time I pass a mirror or window as I am training or simply passing by, I examine or briefly glance at the reflection of choices I have made (my form if I am training) and brutally pass critical judgment on the image looking back at me.  However, I have never been a “glamour gal” – I don’t have manicures, pedicures, facials, or all of the latest fashions (unless they say Timex, Blue Seventy, Trek, Spenco, Rudy Project, Headsweats, or FuelBelt).  My “make-up bag” is non-existent.  I wear mascara and sometimes Chapstik.  I know there must be a “glamour gal” looming inside of me, because I do experience times where I long to be fashionable, trendy, and actually consider the need for wearing make-up. On these occasions, I decide to don something other than Timex or Ironman logo wear, board shorts, and flip-flops, transforming into a woman “walking” in heels – for me, this act requires the same characteristics of an Ironman or marathon: focus, concentration, patience, training, and endurance.   

A few evenings ago Steve and I were watching the NFL football game, and I went to the bathroom.  As I typically began meticulously examining my reflection, OCD or ADD kicked in, I got a wild hair (or actually saw a few wild hairs) and decided I needed to wax my eyebrows.  No big deal.  I’m no “glamour gal”, but I have waxed my eyebrows (once before) and knew waxing would only take a few minutes – nuke it, smear it, and rip it.  

So, I proceeded to nuke the wax in the microwave.  While returning to the bathroom, though I realized I had “ditched my date” to “wax my brows”, the obsession to “fix my flaw” was overtaking all of my focus.  Besides, I simply rationalized that all I had left to do was “smear it and rip it” and I was done – flaw fixed and back to my date.

Quickly, I opened the jar and stirred the wax.  The temperature was seemingly perfect – the word “ready” was legible on the dipper.  I hurriedly made a few swipes of the wax just below my right brow line.  Then it happened.  My “flaw” became a FLAW!

It was a catastrophe!  As I scooped up a glob, and brought the stick to my eyebrow, Steve startled me and the glob dropped on the inner section of my eyelashes.  I told him I would be right there and began trying to get the wax out of my lashes.  The more I tried, the more matted my lashes became – the wax temperature had been perfect.  The only recourse I had was to “rip it”.  So I did, and pulled out an index finger’s width section of my top and bottom eyelashes. 

My emotions went from shock to fear to anger to acceptance to hysterical laughter.  I have always been complemented on my eyes and “long beautiful” eyelashes, and now my face looks like a before and after photo of a meth user.  The good news is it’s hair and it will grow back – it will just take longer because I waxed.

FLAWED,

Lisa

2007 Race Report #2

“The Guinness Challenge”

By Lisa Butler

I never thought my developed beer-chugging ability would ever become a resource for income. However, I “cashed-in” this past weekend!  I participated in the McNellie’s Pub Run and entered a distinct category called “The Guinness Challenge”.  The pub run is a creative invention to boost community participation in running, seeking to appeal to the college-days-beer-chugger in all of us, awarding a $300 beer tab to the overall male and female, $150 for second and $50 for third, with proceeds going to Catholic Ministries. This year, the run was a 3.5-mile hilly run through downtown Tulsa at 3 PM on Saturday, November 10^th (to maximize participation and allow for those Friday night partiers to wake up and get to the start line). Those runners participating in “The Guinness Challenge” were required to drink three pints (36 ounces) of Guinness before crossing the finish line – stopping at three designated “Guinness Beer Tables” to drink a pint of Guinness before a group of “judges” to assure you consumed the entire pint. These judges meant business.  I witnessed them digging an unfinished cup out of the trash and making the drinker finish before proceeding!  Also, “no hurling allowed” was strictly enforced – you had to keep all 36 ounces down to be deemed worthy of the title Guinness Male/Female.

Though I was a late bloomer in the beer-chugging scene (late twenties, when I attended my first Tulsa Hash House Harriers run whose club motto is “a drinking club with a running problem”), I believed I had been properly honed for the challenge.  The catch was, it was the Friday after IM Florida, I hadn’t run a step since the marathon, and the pub run was the next day.  So, I decided to put my body through a 4-mile test run on Friday.  Whew!  Little stiff, to say the least!  I genuinely didn’t know how I was going to do it, but decided it was worth the challenge – $300 tab, you kidding me?

Pre-race preparation was a little different than IM Florida.  With no transition or special needs bags to analytically prepare, no bike to prepare for check-in, no wetsuit to squeeze into, being a runner seemed like much less of a hassle!  I did stay with my meditation-CD-feet-up-the-wall relaxation time and shower-and-shave.

At the starting line, looking at the college students toeing the line, I got the retro-feel of what it was like to run during the Prefontaine era.  These guys had on striped knee socks, sweatbands in long hair, facial hair that was begging for washing and clippers, and a distinct group wearing t-shirts with “CREAMERS” across their chests.  Checking out my female competition was really a bust because my test-run gave me no confidence.  However, I didn’t see many women that I deemed were capable of out-chugging me.  So, I resolved that this would be what it would be, and I would run a tactical race – go out as hard as I could, just hang on and hope I could out-chug my competition.

When the race started, I don’t know what came over me!  My body took off!  I was somehow running a 6:23 mile, when the day before I could barely break 10:00!  I was leading for the first quarter of a mile until this long-legged college chick (I’ll call “Legs”) I hadn’t seen at the start, caught me and passed me.   I went with her and just tried to stay within 100 yards of her the entire race.  After the first mile mark, we encountered the first huge overpass we had to climb and I remember thinking “where’s the beer stop” because at the crest of the hill, it was nowhere in sight and more than the beer, I needed to stop for air!  Down the hill and nearly two blocks later, I encountered the first stop.  “Legs” easily beat me to the beer stop by ten seconds and was already drinking.  I selected my cup, quickly trying to choose the one with the least amount (never thought I’d say that) and was astounded at how huge 12 ounces seemed!  I was only halfway through mine when “Legs” was off and running – strongly! 

The turn-around cone was a welcome sight, until I realized the course retraced the entire course I had just run, including the overpass after a huge cup of Guinness!  So, in light of the “no hurling” rule, I decided to scale back through the crest of the overpass, assess the damages “Legs” had put into my race, and then push through to the end.  Well, to my surprise when I re-engaged to race mode, “Legs” was within a block of me and we were nearing the second beer stop.  Though “Legs” was in and out of the beer stop before me, I had a feeling her Guinness went down a little harder than mine, and I knew it was time to close the gap.  My instinct was validated when our eyes met as “Legs” was turning the last corner into the finish area, knowing we had one more beer to chug less than 10 yards from the finish line.  Like both other stops, “Legs” arrived first; however, I was only seconds behind her.  I selected my cup ($300 tab!), choked down my last Guinness, and dashed to the finish line.  I waited at the finish line to congratulate “Legs” as she finished, as well as the other female finishers.

Cooling down, I retraced much of the course in conversation with a four-time Ironman finisher and now Guinness Male.  We contemplated the appeal and possibility to adding this form of carb-replacement during an IM race and believe there could be great potential!

Chugs,

Lisa

IM Florida Race Report

By Lisa Butler

Ironman.
Fears.  Haunting Memories.  Regret.
Focus.  This Moment. Joyful Bliss. Resilience.

After a year filled with a surgery, nagging knee and foot issues, and fears associated with failing, IM Florida on November 3^rd was my first race of the year.  Though reluctant to complete this personal commitment I had made (I could easily find multiple excuses not to “toe the line”), the $450 bucks of entry fee got my bootie movin’ and was my motivation.  Sure, I would like to brag of personally invested hours upon hours of training, sacrifices I had made over the course of this past year, and how staunchly driven I had been, but that would be hypocritical – no blatant lies.  Truth is, I drove into Panama City Beach with my longest swim of 2500 yards (and hadn’t swum in over two weeks), my longest bike of 68 miles, and my longest run of 10 miles – needless to say, I was a “tad” under-trained. 

I firmly believe that through the strength of positive thinking, experiencing “the moment”, and a commitment to resiliency, any goal I set out to achieve is attainable.  So, my “game-plan” was this – seek to experience gratitude for the opportunity to compete, “joyful bliss” in each moment of the race, remain calm and patient through adversities, and never doubt my capacity for achievement as a result of my commitment to resilience. 

Leading up to race day, I did the usual morning training swims, during which I actually put my Blue Seventy Helix on for the first time.  Whoa!  The last time I was in a wetsuit had been over sixteen months at IM CDA, and I had forgotten how buoyant I become in the water!  Just a side note, I discovered that I end up walking pigeon-toed if I don’t get the “Helix” adjusted just right, because the suit stays true to its supportive structure – correctly aligned or not.  At the end of Friday morning’s training swim, I had the good fortune to run into Danny Dreyer, the author of Chi Running, giving a lecture and demonstration on the beach that was very informative and a great reminder of the importance of focusing on running form or “technique” – great information I used during the IM marathon.

The night before the race I listened to my meditation CD, and after merely a few hours of sleep, I was wide awake.  I picked up the book The Artist’s Way and began reading the introduction and beginning of chapter one.  Great stuff!  I ate a peanut butter sandwich, drank some water, and went back to bed.

Race morning, I showered, ate, finished preparing all of my special needs bags, and packing miscellaneous stuff in my backpack to totally prepare my transition bags and finish setting up my bike – most importantly the black Sharpie to write “This Moment!” (with a smiley face) and “Joyful Bliss” on my aero bottle, T1 and T2 bags, and my running hat.  Walking to the special needs drop boxes, the energy in the air nearly gave me goose-bumps until the sound of the first exploding race tire startled me back to a smile.  I began repeating to myself the words “this moment”…”joyful bliss”…”resilience”.

Staging myself next to Steve and on the far right of the mass, I smiled to notice the famous age grouper Joe Bonness just a few feet away, obviously not a fan of the “mauling” that occurs in the middle of the pack and nearest the buoy-line.  After laying in the water to “get used to the coolness” and experiencing the warming of my own body’s nervous release, I was ready to begin this Ironman journey.  

As the cannon sounded, I began “running” through the water and performing my version of dolphin-diving.  I’m sure it was quite hilarious.  My first lap went better than I expected – very few people swam over me and I only choked down a few mouthfuls of saltwater.  To my surprise after a few moments of calculating (subtracting ten minutes from the clock time for the pro start) I had a thirty-eight minute first loop which was pretty good for me.  This exuberant feeling was short-lived as I re-entered the water for the worst IM mass swim mauling I’ve encountered!  At one point I decided to get away from everyone and swim totally by myself.  However, this is where I encountered the punch in my face that knocked my goggles deeply into my eye socket, left me seeing stars, and realizing I must have encountered the 250-pound-virgin-Ironman-from-hell who had heard about the “horror of the mass swim”.  This man was obviously prepared for “an attack” beginning with a stout left hook and furiously flailing feet that barely missed kicking me as I sat up to re-adjust my goggles and re-gain my bearings.

Out of the water, through the wetsuit stripping, the shower, and into T1 – all I could think was “Whoa!  Glad that’s over…do I have a black eye?”!  I drank my Red Bull, changed, thanked my volunteer, and was off to get my bike.  Oops!  I decided to stop get some sunscreen on my shoulders, and ended up with it on my sunglasses.  Anyway, I boarded my pretty blue Trek bike and immediately read my words “This Moment” and “Joyful Bliss” on my aero bottle.  I was stoked!

The bike was pretty uneventful – I passed a few wrecks, but assistance had already arrived, and each time I asked someone with mechanical problems if they were okay they said they “had it”.  The most entertaining occurrence was when I came upon a rider whose race bib was “Rodehorst”, but at first glance it appeared to be “Rodehorny” – this was less than halfway through the bike in a section of false-flat into a headwind, so it was definitely humoring!  As I passed him I was laughing and told him what I had thought.  He too laughed and obviously appreciated the break in the monotonous moment.  At my special needs I got my baked potato and Red Bull, and realized I had really mucked up my bike nutrition.  So, I went with just getting a gel at each ensuing aid station to try to get in some more calories.

Off the bike, out of my stinky shoes, and into T2 – all I could think was “Goodnight!  Thankfully that things out of my crotch”!     My volunteer was AWESOME!  Beginning with, “tell me what you want”, she had my bag digging through and calling out “hat…shoes…socks…Red Bull…what’s this…GPS…do you want water…you’re set”, and I was off and running.  Surprisingly, I felt great!  I had a difficult time holding back and ended up running 7:04, 7:18, and 7:24 for the first three miles, and then my fountain of “joyful bliss” seemingly dried up!  I ended up bargaining with myself to just run from aid station to aid station, which became increasingly difficult through the second loop of the run course.  So, I used my tactic of counting my left footsteps to occupy my mind and as the finish line neared and Riley’s voice rang through the sunset calling in the Ironman athletes of the day, my “joyful bliss” returned and I was able to quiet my DNF demons from 2005 and became a 2007 Florida Ironman, and ironically experienced a PR by over 17 minutes.

Thanks to all of Team Timex sponsors and a special thanks to Ben and Doug for taking care of all 13 of the Team Timex athletes racing IM Florida…you guys are awesome!!!

Train safely,

Lisa

Anniversary dates, for each and every one of us are filled with emotion, regardless of the memory or event celebrated.  Over the course of the last few days, we have witnessed the unfolding sickness and core-shuddering pictures of a student from Virginia Tech that has not only horrified the student body and faculty of that campus, but also sent shock waves through the entire nation and world (the site of this sadistic killer makes me shudder). 

The details of this incident bring back personal memories of shock, horror, and shear terror residual from the Fort Gibson, Oklahoma school shooting which occurred during the time I was a teacher and coach at my Alma matter.  Further, the awful Sunday afternoon that my uncle “flaked off”, exhibited threatening behavior toward himself, immediate family (wife and two children), extended family (my aunt, my parents, and me), and local authorities, resulting in witnessing/hearing gunfire that ring through my memories to this very moment, though this happened over 12 years ago.

Today, April 19, 2007, marks the “anniversary” date of a very life changing moment for my home state of Oklahoma and this nation (9:02 AM marks the 12^th Anniversary of the Alfred P. Murrah Building bombing in Oklahoma City – my thoughts are extended to all the victims, their families, and all the firefighters, medical personnel, police, and other countless individuals who were involved with this terrible attack), as well as another more personal “anniversary” date for someone extremely special to me. 
Last year, around 6:45 PM my boyfriend was struck by a van while we were doing a training ride for the Coeur d’Alene IM.  Again, my mind cannot help but to “relive” the entire day leading up to the moment, and the events that followed – through the rest of the evening, the night, and days that followed.  Initially, he was sent home following a diagnosis of a few broken bones in his shoulder However, (following going to work… Yes!…I said WORK! – at 8 AM – remember, the man was hit by a VAN less than 12 hours prior and didn’t make it home from the Emergency Room until after 1 AM),  we went to his personal physician and, following more X-Rays, discovered he had broken his scapula in three places (“shoulder blade” which is one of the most difficult bones in your body to break – the force to break it is equivalent to someone taking a baseball bat directly to it), his clavicle (collar bone), at least 6 ribs (couldn’t really determine exactly how many from the X-ray), and a bone in his right foot.  

Four days following the accident…following two additional trips back and forth to the Emergency Room…a CT Scan was done of his abdomen and the “trauma team” finally diagnosed that sometime within the past few days following the accident his spleen had ruptured and he had lost over half the blood volume in his body!  (Okay…so, now we knew why he was feeling so crappy!  The man nearly died!)  Finally, an emergency surgery was performed to remove his spleen and stop his internal bleeding. 

Fortunately the man is an anomaly…a “freak of nature”…an IRONMAN triathlete…and survived without any residual, major mal-functions!  Every physician, nurse and anybody who knew anything regarding a traumatic experience of this nature could not believe that not only was he alive and had survived, but he was released from the hospital 4 days after having such an invasive surgery – and that he was hacked off that he wasn’t released sooner!!!!! 

He has fully recovered.  Yes, the moments, minutes, hours, days and first few months following the accident were tough.  However, to this day, he will tell you that it was/is his experience of Ironman training and racing that he drew upon to assist in his resilience and ability to recover (he  is also quick to respond anytime and (without fail) EVERY time I ask, “are you alright?” with “NOOOOOOOO, ‘Hon’!!!  I was hit by a van!” 

To date, he is training for this year’s Coeur d’Alene IM and I am confident his reliance will see him through the finish line to once again hear Riley call him “an Ironman”!!!

Peace and IM resilience be with you today and always,

lisa

First and foremost…Good luck to all racing tomorrow at IM Arizona!!!  I will be watching and following online…want to give a “shout out” to a Tulsa local – Jennifer Johnson…KICK BUTT JEN!

My 2^nd ART visit was…painful.  Holy mother of bologna – did I say bologna?  You know when I was growing up fried bologna was a staple, with catsup or is it ketchup – FOCUS – sorry, I think it’s the residual aftershock of yesterday’s ART treatment!

ANYWAY!

After my catastrophic 1.5 mile “run” on Thursday, I called Dr. Flournoy, and gave him the detailed report.  He told me he would he was booked for Friday, but would somehow get me in – what an incredible doctor!!!  He said, “We’ve got to get you running!”  He spoke the words that I was longing to hear!!

So, I show up for my appointment.  We exchanged some small talk about the crappy weather – thunderstorms, record low temps, and just overall conditions that make you want to crank up the heat and crawl into bed under the down comforter and SLEEP!  Then, I gave him another short synopsis of what I had experienced during Thursday’s run, and he instructed me to lay face up on the massage bench. 

As we continued a great conversation, he began working the problematic area.  At first, the conversation and his brilliant personality were enough to balance out the enormous pain I was undergoing.  However, at one point, he went so deep into my tightened IT Band and the pain became so intense I saw WHITE!  Holy Mother of Bologna!  CRI-MIN-EEEEEEE!  WHOOOOO!

Anyway…the saying, “No Pain, No Gain” is one that truly applies to ART therapy.  Although I underwent some major discomfort (which I totally believe was more tolerable because of Dr. Flournoy’s brilliant personality and capacity to hold a conversation with me while he was performing his seemingly torturous therapy), I can honestly say I left Dr. Flournoy’s office with no pain.  Did it hurt?  Without a doubt – HECK YES!  Was it worth it?  Without a doubt – HECK YES!

Once again, I left the treatment knowing I could once again run…and I did.

Keep running and Keep Triathaloning,

lisa