ABOUT ME

"Think occasionally of the suffering of which you spare yourself the sight."—Albert Schweitzer

So just who is Tammy Kaufman, also known as Spydersmom (the recreational athlete and animal lover/advocate) and Izdihaar (the amateur musician and dancer)? Well, really just an ordinary woman with an extraordinary willingness to let my imperfections shine in public and an unrelenting desire to follow my dreams. Of course I must express my eternal gratitude to my friends and family for always being there, and encouraging me to live a life that I would never have imagined possible.

My ultimate goal in life is to be as good a person as my dog, Spyder, already thinks I am. He is not only my dog and my buddy, but is also the namesake of my website and the reason behind my deep passion for animal advocacy. One look into his trusting eyes, and I understand the great responsibility we humans have to protect and care for the animals who share this earth with us.
    

"A good deed done to an animal is as meritorious as a good deed done to a human being, while an act of cruelty to an animal is a bad as an act of cruelty to a human being.”—Prophet Mohammed

CONTACT ME

CYCLING CAREER HIGHLIGHTS
-Have been and continue to be actively involved in the construction and ongoing maintenance of several local and regional mountain bike trail systems, including those at Wolf Laurel, Wintergreen, New Light WRC, Harris Lake County Park, Lake Crabtree County Park, Clayton's Legend Park, Little River Park, and Beaverdam State Recreational Area
-Published in the #71 issue of Dirt Rag Magazine (pages 23-34), in the #85 issue of Dirt Rag Magazine (page 21), and in the #111 issue of Dirt Rag Magazine
-Featured in 2 articles in the local mountain bike club newsletter, NC FATS "Fat Trax"
-Featured racer on Mountainbikeracer.com -
Mountain Bike Racer
-Member of multiple bike trail advocacy organizations including the North Raleigh Mountain Bike Association and North Carolina Fats
-Won the Overall Cane Creek Series for Sport Women Downhill 2002
-Won the Overall MADHRA (Mid-Atlantic Downhill Race Association) Series for Sport Women Downhill 2002
-Won the Overall MADHRA (Mid-Atlantic Downhill Race Association) Series for Sport Women Downhill 2003
-Have successfully completed 9 solo 24-hour mountain bike races and 9 solo 12-hour mountain bike races, along with multiple solo and duo 6-hour races and multiple duo and team 12 and 24-hour races
-Interviewed by the local newspaper, Raleigh News & Observer, regarding a Beginner Women's Ride Series I organized, 3/7/2003
-Interviewed by the Wall Street Journal 3/14/2003 regarding mountain bike racing
-Interviewed by a Virginia newspaper, Daily News Leader, regarding the Timber Rattler Downhill Race, 7/30/2003
-Spotlight Athlete in Endurance Magazine 10/2003
-Have had full length articles published in the 12/2003, 5/2004, 6/2004, 8/2004 and 11/2004 issues of Endurance Magazine
-Qualified for the 2003 World Solo 24 Hour Championships
-Named to the 2003 United States Masters Mountain Bike World Championship Team
-Winner of the mtbchick.com Flower Power Award for Overall Best Amateur Mountain Biker of 2003 -
MTB Chick
-Interviewed by a local newspaper, Winston Salem Journal, regarding the Burn 24 Hour Challenge Race, 5/28/2004
-Qualified for the 2004 World Solo 24 Hour Championships
-Won 1st Place in the NORBA Nationals Overall Series for Women 40+ Marathon 2004
-Placed 4th in the NORBA Nationals Overall Series for Women 40+ Super Downhill 2004
-Interviewed by a local newspaper, Durham Herald-Sun, regarding bicycle racing, 10/26/2004
-Interviewed by Tyler Benedict of Source Drinks at the Burn 24 Hour Mountain Bike Challenge, 5/29/2005 -
Burn Race Quicktime Video

DANCE HIGHLIGHTS
-Interviewed by a local newspaper, The Wake Weekly, about my experiences as a dance student, October 21, 2004
-First public dance performance at the Belly Revelations Student Hafla, performed as a veil duo to Isis, November 13, 2004 at Triangle Dance Studio
-One of the participating dancers in the second video in the instructional dance series produced by Qadria and Belly Revelations, "Bellydance Moves and Combinations Anyone Can Do"

Most importantly, I adore my husband Steve, our cat Andy, and our two dogs, Spyder and Zoe, with whom I am fortunate enough to be able to share my life and my love.

"The indifference, callousness and contempt that so many people exhibit toward animals is evil first because it results in great suffering in animals, and second because it results in an incalculably great impoverishment of the human spirit." ~Ashley Montague

INTERVIEWS

Raleigh News Observer Interview
Wall Street Journal Interview
Daily News Leader Interview
Winston Salem Journal Interview
Durham Herald Sun Interview
Wake Weekly Interview
Burn 24 Hour Quicktime Video

TOP FIVE

Do a few 24 hour races, and it is bound to happen. Folks who have not tried one yet are going to ask you why you do it. After doing these things for the past several years, I have been asked that question so many times I have lost count. So I figured I would lay out a list of the Top 5 to hopefully enlighten those of you who have not yet endeavored to experience one of the most popular current mountain bike crazes.

5. You have unlimited opportunities to totally embarrass yourself in public. Take for example, my nutritional inexperience at one of my earlier endurance events. I was so concerned that I would not take in sufficient fluids that I apparently overdid it. Of course, nature called as usual, right smack dab in the middle of one of my night laps, as far away from a portajohn as possible. So, being the industrious woman that I am, I parked my bike next to a tree off the side of the trail, and scurried off into some relatively thick underbrush in order to relieve my painfully full bladder. Just as I was preparing to pull my tights back up, I heard the familiar masculine voice of one of my friends who was also racing, yelling to me that perhaps I should have turned off the flashing red tail light attached to the hydration pack I was still wearing.

4. And on a similar note, you can look like a total fool and not even care. If you are even aware of it, that is. Again, early in my endurance racing career, I had received in my schwag bag a tube of chamois cream at one of the events. Unfortunately, I failed to read the directions, which clearly indicate that a little goes a long way. Let me just make a long story short here, and say that if you are going to glob that stuff on, wear white shorts instead of black ones, preferably using the same color scheme on your saddle.

3. You can (and if you happen to be racing solo WILL) look like absolute crap and probably not even care, at least by the end of the race. Just one little bit of advice for the ladies here. If you are going to start the race trying to look like a diva, make sure that the eye makeup you choose is water and sweat-proof. I can recall at least a couple of times that I should have just gone ahead and registered as Rocky Raccoon.

2. You get to wear the most ridiculous looking outfits in the world, and have people applaud you for it. If you have ever seen me race, I do not think I need to say anything more.

1. And the number one reason to do a 24 hour race? You get to play in the dirt with your bike and your friends all day and all night! You will pay a good chunk of money to get no sleep, strain your muscles to their limits, snap at your friends who are trying to help you, eat bizarre food products, and wonder why you did this. You will complain in the wee hours of the morning that you are never going to put yourself through this again. But 15 minutes after the end of the race, you will already be planning for the next one. It is a vicious cycle. It is an addiction. "Hello. My name is Tammy, and I am a 24 hour race addict." "Hello, Tammy."

WINTERGREEN

With my ever advancing age of over 40 now, I frequently think maybe it's time to stop downhill racing, which is actually just a euphemism for throwing myself down the side of a mountain on a bicycle; to give up sweltering in the hot sun wrapped in layers of body armor and a motocross helmet, waiting at a start line that I swear is only 5 feet away from the sun itself for the countdown letting me know that it's time once again to taunt death by hurtling myself and my bike through rocks and roots, wedging between tight trees down some several hundred or more feet of trail, just to see how fast I can do it. Yes, sometimes I think it's time to give that up.

Then, I'll go to a race like the Timber Rattler at Wintergreen, Virginia this past weekend. This event was truly an experiment in just how much fun downhill racing can be, for people of all ages and all ability levels. There were three separate downhill trails for the three basic categories - Beginner, Sport and Expert - so that everyone could be tested at the appropriate level for their respective skills. Each trail had varying amounts of rock gardens, steep chutes, twisty hairpin turns, jumps, drops, logs, etc., with each carefully gauged to fit the skill level of the riders for which it was designed. The builders took painstaking care to ensure a fair playing field for each race category's course. Even Mother Nature chimed in, giving us such beautiful clear blue skies that it almost looked painted that way. Few races I have attended have run as smoothly as this one - registration was a breeze, the ski timing equipment was precise, course marshals very helpful, spectators vociferously cheering on every single rider all along the courses, even ice-cold water provided both up top and at the bottom of the mountain for exhausted racers. And of course, the downhillers themselves, as usual, were nothing short of totally supportive of one another. I've often thought that going to a downhill race is more of a festival than a race. It's a time to meet up with friends that perhaps live too far away to visit otherwise, to share some friendly competition, and to learn from one another. I view the folks I race with more as family than competitors, and that was certainly true at Wintergreen this past weekend. The Timber Rattler definitely had a festive atmosphere going, all the way down to the final awards ceremony, which actually included a raffle based on race number plates, wherein everyone had an equal chance at going home with something cool. As a race venue, Wintergreen has it all - beautiful cross-country trails, a magnitude of downhill trails that boggles the mind, including a 7 mile downhill run that ends at the very bottom of the mountain, where you will be chauffeured back up top by the shuttle. But the best thing about this past weekend's race, for me anyway, were the memories I brought home of the first (annual, I hope) Timber Rattler downhill race at Wintergreen.

THE GIFT

I was frustrated. Once again I had been more or less dropped during a mountain bike ride. Somehow, despite my technical ineptness I had managed to almost catch up to a fast group of skilled riders on a very difficult mountain bike trail, one which I rarely even attempt due to its level of technical difficulty and its high propensity for separating me from both my bike and my confidence. I was barely hanging on and just able to keep a glimpse of the riders ahead of me, but still out there. I had gone on this ride at my husband’s urging, as he had just purchased a new camera and wanted us to practice using it by photographing some of the riders this particular evening. As I rounded an exceptionally rocky twisty corner, I felt my rear tire slip, and suddenly I was stopped dead in my tracks by an unseen root right in the apex of the turn. While straightening my handlebars, my attention was drawn to a subtle glimmer on the trail. At first I thought someone had perhaps dropped a large piece of jewelry – I suppose it didn’t occur to me that most people don’t actually wear large pieces of jewelry when they ride. On closer inspection I realized it was a rock, but not just any old rock.

Now, it’s worth mentioning at this point that I have been going through a very rough time with my riding for the past several months, feeling quite discouraged and disappointed with what I perceived as a lack of improvement, despite riding nearly every day. Through all this, though, one person has been by my side, encouraging, supporting, and riding back with me to keep me company as well as to try and help me with technical sections where I was having difficulty. That person is my husband and best friend in the entire world. Although I thought he had ridden on ahead to stay up with the faster folks, it turns out that he actually had ridden ahead in order to take pictures of me riding, being very careful to photograph me in sections of trail where I felt comfortable and confident and looked like I knew what I was doing. He told me later he wanted me to see that my riding skills were better than I realized, and he wanted me to have those pictures as proof.

As I reached down to pick up this rock which had so inexplicably attracted my attention, I noticed something quite extraordinary about it. With a smile making its way across my face, upon taking the rock into my palm I realized that it was in the unmistakable shape of a perfect heart.

NOT JUST FOR TOMBOYS

"You carry lipstick in your Camelbak?" My (male) friend was incredulous when he caught me putting my flavored and tinted lip balm into my hydration pack before heading out onto the trail, and that got me started wondering. Perhaps that's why so many women are hesitant to take up mountain biking. No, not because of the lipstick. Because there is no stigma to being a tomboy who mountain bikes, but there does seem to be a misconception that to succeed in the sport, one has to surrender her femininity. Fortunately, though, that's all it is, a misconception. There are so many "girly-girls" who ride, and ride hard. Ever hear of Paula Pezzo, on her pink Gary Fisher, with her pink helmet, wearing mascara and lipstick, winning the Olympic Gold in her metalflake shorts? Or what about Jamie Little - yes, that gorgeous woman with the ESPN microphone interviewing all the motocross stars? That's right, she's a top-notch downhiller. I saw her at Nationals at Snowshoe last year, wearing all white motocross pants and jersey, winning her class with freshly applied lipstick and red nail polish. Or Anka Martin and April Lawyer, who look and sound more like fashion models than downhillers, but boldly take on the toughest courses fearlessly and with more guts and determination than many men. And then there is my own personal mountain biking heroine, Jacquie Phelan, who has won more titles than I could ever list on this page including numerous NORBA National Championships, who always raced wearing pearls and usually in a frilly white blouse. These women, and many others, have accomplished incredible feats of athleticism in the biking world, and yet have retained all that makes them women, proudly sporting their femininity. As one hard-riding young lady put it, "We're coming to the bike trail, and we're bringing our skirts with us." They make me proud, not only to be a mountain biker, but to be a woman mountain biker. So yes, I do carry lipstick in my Camelbak, which I strap happily onto the shoulders of my flower print jersey atop my pastel green skort, and ride.

TAKING THE LEAP

Nancy Reagan has been quoted as saying “A woman is like a tea bag -- only in hot water do you realize how strong she is.” Never was this truer in my own situation than back in June of 2004 when I decided, on a whim really, to participate in the National Off-road Bicycle Association (NORBA) Nationals inaugural Marathon mountain bike series. NORBA had decided this season to institute a Marathon bike race in their annual mountain bike series consisting of multiple events in various cities across the United States, to go along with the traditional fare of Cross Country, Downhill and Mountain Cross. Racers participating in the individual events would be vying for a year-end series award in addition to the medals offered at each specific venue. As an endurance bike racer for the past several years, I figured I would give the new Marathon a shot – I mean, after doing multiple solo 24 hour events, how tough could it be, right? Apparently I had forgotten how brutal and unforgiving the terrain of West Virginia can be, particularly during the infamous rainy season which is June in that region. Snowshoe Mountain is littered with loose slippery rocks, and there are large tree roots spiderwebbed all across the singletrack. The sections of the course consisting of doubletrack are severely steep and seemingly endless, reaching up to what appears to be infinity. However, I firmly believe, as Helen Keller once said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing”, and so I signed up and decided to take the plunge.

Naturally, on arriving at the start line for the Marathon in the early morning hours on that early June Thursday morning, the skies were dark and threatening, and it had in fact been raining the entire week previously. There was only one other woman in my age group of 40+, and a total of only about 41 entrants altogether, roughly half of which were pros. On the start, I took my time and headed into the trail very close to the back of the pack. The course was immediately slick and treacherous, and I’m not a very technical rider anyway, so things were looking grim from the beginning. I loosened up a bit once I reached the doubletrack climb and settled into a nice rhythm. Unfortunately that was soon to change. After a couple of miles of climbing, the trail headed into the woods, where I was faced with mile after mile of slippery, rooty, rocky singletrack which I found virtually unrideable. So I dismounted, heaved my bike onto my shoulder and ran. A lot. I ran for what seemed like an eternity, and to make things worse, there were course markers indicating which way the trail actually went only very sporadically, so there were many times when I wasn’t even sure I was going the right way, until I would happen across a marker which fortunately indicated that I was traveling in the right direction. It seemed that the only sections of trail I could ride were the steep, exhausting, gravel-strewn fireroad climbs. I was discouraged, disappointed and disillusioned, wondering what on earth had possessed me to attempt something like this. Shortly after that, I was passed by a couple of cross country riders who were preriding for their race later in the weekend. With their shouts of encouragement reawakening my spirit, I pressed on. That is, until I came to a 25 foot wide creek criss-crossing the trail. I stopped, and noticed a course marshal sitting on the opposite bank, reading a book. I yelled across to ask if I was in the right place, to which he responded “Yep.” I asked if anyone had managed to ride across this body of water. “Nope – not even the lead motorcycle – everybody has had to walk it.” So I once again gathered up my bike and stepped into the water, which rapidly rose up to my hips! There were slick loose rocks in the bottom, and tiny fish snapping at my ankles and shins as I waded through. I struggled up through the deep sand on the opposite bank, then remounted and headed down the gravel road to the next creek crossing. This creek was shallower, so I rode slowly through. By this time, I was so tired that I tried to just stay on my bike and crawl very slowly through the singletrack where I could, and rode painfully slowly up the climbs. As I wound around the trail, I noticed a course marshal sitting on a ledge up above the trail, shouting encouragement to me, and asking if I needed any food or water. I had plenty, but asked how far in last place I was. He told me that nearly half the entrants (including half the pros!) had already resigned from the race, and taken a DNF (race term for “Did Not Finish”), so I was already in the top half by still hanging in there! At this point, I had been on the course for probably 5 hours, it was starting to rain, and I was exhausted. But I was determined to see this thing to the bitter end, so I pressed on.

I couldn’t believe how treacherous this trail became. There was one section in particular which struck sheer terror into my heart. After riding an off-camber ledge for a couple of miles, the trail suddenly dropped down into a giant hole, with a drop off to the left that looked like it fell into the gaping maw of hell itself. The only way through was to toss my bike up over an uprooted tree on the trail, and then grab the limbs and climb up. I was barely able to do this, being rather short, but somehow I managed to get both my bike and my body up and over this tree and continue on.

Upon rounding the next corner, I realized that I was probably still over 2 hours from the finish line, as I was just now passing the Silver Creek Lodge which is close to the bottom of Snowshoe Mountain, with the finish line at the very peak. I wanted to cry, but didn’t even have the energy to do that. I alternated between riding and pushing my bike until I got to the last section of singletrack. At this point, the course marshals told me I only had about one more mile to go. Liars! By my computer, the trail snaking its way up to the crest of the mountain was over 4 miles – a rocky, rooty, muddy, slimy, wet 4 miles – but I rode it. I rode every last inch of it. I had finally crossed out onto the last fireroad, but didn’t know how close I was to the finish, when a woman rode by me. She encouraged me to keep going, and told me I only had to round one last corner to finish, so as painful as it was, I kept pedaling. Then I saw it – the finish line. And I also saw the timing clock. It said 7 hours and 25 minutes, so I hurriedly set a mini goal for myself – to beat 7 and a half hours. I dug deep and found my will again. I stood up and pedaled as hard as I ever have, to cross the finish line at 7 hours and 29 minutes.

I was thrilled to have finished, but sad because I suspected I had finished last, as slowly as I had been muddling through the course. I asked the NORBA official when the results would be posted, and he told me that I had won for my age group! Amazingly, this race win put in me in first place for the series. I anxiously awaited the results for each successive Marathon series event, always assuming that my temporary title would be lost. However, as it turned out, this win at one of the most difficult venues I have ever raced was sufficient to give me the Overall Marathon Series Title for 2004 for the Women 40+ category. As inspirational author, Kobi Yamada, said “Sometimes you just have to take the leap, and build your wings on the way down.”