Fall 2011
When Patrick Timmons’s best friend challenged him to compete in an Ironman triathlon, he signed up and began training. On race day – a cloudy, summer morning – Timmons swam 2.4 miles before mounting his bike. The sun burned through as Timmons cycled 112 miles. Heat flared off the pavement, so he took advantage of nutrition and hydration offered at the halfway point. By the time Timmons kicked off on three nearly nine-mile running loops to complete the race, his stomach hurt. He felt sick by mile 10 and drank a cola with ice to settle his stomach. His worst fear was throwing up the fuel needed to continue or upsetting his chemical balance. Timmons lost it all anyway, but felt better. More cola and ice with more running, and in the 11th hour, Timmons crossed the finish line. Continue reading “Training for a Triathlon”
Fighting for their lives taught Cy-Fair residents like Martha Ocampo, Logan Holley, and John Bonner to persevere through pain, fear, and tough odds. Healthy again, they credit family and friends for their unwavering support. The three also show a tenacious compassion toward others who are still in the struggle. 
July 2011
With all of the titles we claim for all the jobs we perform, many of us should add one more: Stress Manager. One local life coach teaches that taking a good five-minute break will make us better at everything else we do in a day.
While a variety of skills are needed to fight fires, but these courageous Cy-Fair firefighters have one thing in common: They are dedicated to help others in their worst moments. Their commitment to their community makes them some of Cy-Fair’s hottest firefighters. 
The Emergency Room doors whoosh open, welcoming a middle-aged couple. One side of the man’s face droops and his slurred words try to quiet his wife’s worst fears. The triage nurse, trained to recognize these symptoms, alerts the team that a possible stroke victim needs diagnosis and immediate attention.
The evening the French Consulate’s cultural attaché to Houston, Patrice Vanoni, graciously spoke the customary prose to bestow the honor of chevalier and pin the ruban violet to Georges Detiveaux’s left breast, Detiveaux was nervous. Such an emotion seems an appropriate and reverent appreciation to being knighted. “They were beautiful words, and then, as is expected, I gave a speech to welcome and thank everyone for coming,” says Detiveaux, the awe of the night reflecting on his face. 
When Ed Smaglik finished up his practice games before the U.S. Bowling Congress Open Championship in June 2009, he sensed something was amiss. He’d suffered lower back issues a couple of times a year from overuse.
When asked how she began quilting 20 years ago, Joan Scott laughs and says, “I took a class, and it took over my life.” Looking around her Cliff Rose studio, it is easy to understand how the patterns, textures and palettes could mesmerize a soul.
Waves of sound float up as I lie on the monochord Soundwave bed. Thrumming bass notes resonate through my body. Sitting beside me, Kelly McCabe chants, his cascading vocals trailing into a breathy falsetto. A rushing in my head drowns out the world, and I am encouraged to let go, to join something greater. The lyrical grandeur builds, and in my mind’s eye, a ring of rocky ridges appears. Light lifts from these peaks to form immense balls of flame, and then, disintegrate.