The Arena
I wanted to talk about the part nobody films.
The Arena is a series of conversations with people who have lived an identity-rupture moment, and built something after it.
We celebrate the Phoenix rising, but nobody talks about what it's like in the ashes.
The whole idea, in one line
One camera, one conversation
No studio, no gloss. I sit down with one person and one camera in the barn at the family ranch in the Hill Country, and sometimes on location, in the places where things actually fell apart. It is about authenticity, not polish. Most people follow along on the podcast.
The people I talk to are not all athletes. A surgeon whose hands started to shake. An artist losing her sight. A dancer who had to stop. Anyone who was known for one thing, and then wasn't.
The name comes from the Roosevelt speech a coach once taped to my gym wall, the one about the person who is actually in the arena, face marred by dust and sweat and blood.
The first conversations
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A trauma surgeon
Steady Hands
A trauma surgeon whose hands started to shake. I asked her what you are when the one thing your hands were for is taken away.
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A ballet principal
Eight Counts
A principal dancer who had to stop in the middle of her career. We talked in the empty rehearsal room where she last danced, about a body that still remembers what it is no longer allowed to do.
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A downhill skier
The Long Way Down
A downhill skier, and the crash that ended her racing. I asked her about the years after, about being known for nothing but the fall.
Listen
The Arena lives at thearena.fm.
New conversations, wherever you get your podcasts.
Go to thearena.fm