Flag Football gained popularity in Mexico, and instrumental in this rise is the member of Mexico’s women’s team, Silvia Contreras, who has led her squad to win both gold and silver at the World Games. She started playing Flag Football in high school when a friend of her who was a big fan of American football wanted to try it out. She went with her to see what it was all about, and fell in love with it in 2009. She made it to the national team in 2018, and in 2022 she became the captain and later during the IFAF Americas Championship, she was named officially the captain of the Mexico national Flag Football team.

As part of the Mexico Flag Football women’s team who has been TWG Champions from 2022 in Birmingham, Alabama, and won the silver medal at the 2024 World Championships in Lahti, Finland.

Silvia Contreras Achievements

Gold Medal TWG 2022 BHM Alabama
Silver Medal FFWC 2021 Jerusalem Israel
National Champ 2022 Mexico City
National Champ 2022 Mexico City and Most Valued Player
Gold Medal The World Games 2022
Silver Medal IFAF World Championship 2021 and 2024

Women Fitness President Ms. Namita Nayyar catches up with Silvia Contreras is an exceptionally talented Mexican Flag Football Player, winner of gold medal at The World Games 2022, here she talks about her fitness routine, her diet, and her success story.

Namita Nayyar:

Where were you born? You in 2009 started playing Flag Football while in high school. You were selected in the Mexican Flag Football team in 2018 and went on to become its captain in 2022. This later propelled your career to the height where you have been at the top of the world as a Flag Football player. Tell us more about your professional journey of exceptional hard work, tenacity, and endurance?

Silvia Contreras:

I was born in Ciudad Obregón, Sonora, México a very small town but when I was three years old my family moved to Tijuana, a big city just across the border from San Diego.

Well I think most if not everything that I have accomplished it’s because of two main things, passion (the love that I have for this game) and discipline. When I started playing I had no idea of anything about this sport, I’ve always loved and practiced sports but not this one in particular so it was a pretty tough challenge.

At first I wasn’t that good but I enjoyed it and loved the way I could see that I was getting better through training, that’s when I fell in love with the process, not just the results. Now I can say that is what put me here and that is why I can continue doing this at the highest level and with so many sacrifices but enjoying it all the way. The support of my family has been so important also, because when I started in the national team I was already graduated, working and supposed to be entering my “normal” adult life, but they know how much I love this and the big dreams that I had so they let me chase my dreams and supported me all the way,

Namita Nayyar:

It is a dream for a Flag Football player to play in the Flag Football World Games. You won a Gold medal being part of the Mexican Team at the 2022 World Games that took place in July 2022, in Birmingham, Alabama in the United States.Tell us more about this spectacular achievement of yours?

Silvia Contreras:

Well, I feel lucky because I am living what I believe is the best moment for a flag football player, I’ve been playing this sport for 15 years and at the beginning not even me knew what this sports was about, now we have to opportunity to dream with something like The World Games and the Olympics but that was not a dream that we could ever imagined we could have in 2009. So it’s been a rollercoaster that just goes up and up for me towards dreaming.

When we heard that we´ve been invited to the world Games that was a huge achievement for the sport and the fact that TWG were going to be so important for the sport to be accepted to the Olympics put some pressure on it, but my dreams have always been big so I just got to work, individually and with my team, That gold medal was totally TEAMWORK and TEAM effort in every aspect, from our staff to the players, even the country, families and fans. It was a total dream, we enjoyed every second and I think people could see it through the screen. We put so much work, time, money, and sacrifices towards this goal and that made it extra special.

Namita Nayyar:

The 2021 IFAF Women’s Flag Football World Championships was the 10th World Championships in women’s flag football. The tournament took place in Jerusalem, Israel, from 6 to 8 December 2021. Representing the Mexican Team you won a silver medal. How does such winning honor being bestowed upon you act as a catalyst in your metriotic rise as a world leading Flag Football player?

Silvia Contreras:

That tournament was definitely very important for me as an athlete mentally because that was my second time representing Mexico on a World Championship but the first time I did badly. I was considering not coming back to try again because it was a very tough challenge for me to get over that moment and my performance. So the 3 years that went by since my first to Israel I put so much effort in every aspect I went from being just a flag football player to becoming an athlete and that help me so much with my confidence and also my performance in the field. I enjoyed the 2021

Worlds and I know a silver medal it’s a huge achievement but I wasn’t satisfied because I knew we could have had the gold medal, so the next months were crucial and we got it. Also it was from moment that I assume a role in the Mexican national team that I don’t want to give up, my position, experience and my story has been inspiring others to try and be here to so I´ve been sharing my thoughts and my process with others to see if I can help or if my road can help someone else to also achieve this dreams.

Full Interview is Continued on Next Page

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Disclaimer
The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

Emerging research highlights the significant role of blueberries in modulating the gut-brain axis, thereby influencing both gastrointestinal and cognitive health. The gut-brain axis is the bidirectional communication network connecting the gastrointestinal tract and the brain, involving neural, hormonal, and immunological pathways.

Blueberries and The Gut-Brain Axis

Impact on Gut Health:

Blueberries are rich in anthocyanins and other polyphenols, which possess prebiotic properties that support a healthy gut microbiome. These compounds can enhance the growth of beneficial bacteria, such as bifidobacteria, and improve intestinal barrier function. A systematic review of animal studies indicated that blueberry supplementation improved gut health by enhancing intestinal morphology, reducing gut permeability, suppressing oxidative stress, and modulating gut microbiota composition.

Influence on Cognitive Function:

The gut microbiome plays a crucial role in brain health through the production of neurotransmitters and the modulation of inflammation. By promoting a balanced gut microbiota, blueberries may indirectly support cognitive functions. For instance, a study found that daily consumption of wild blueberries led to improved executive function, better short-term memory, and faster reaction times in older adults.

Modulation of the Gut-Brain Axis:

Research suggests that the beneficial effects of blueberries on the gut-brain axis may be mediated through several mechanisms:

Neuroinflammation Reduction:

Blueberry anthocyanins have been shown to decrease neuroinflammation, which is linked to cognitive decline. In a mouse model of autism spectrum disorder, anthocyanin-rich extracts from blueberries alleviated autism-like behaviors and reduced both neuroinflammation and gut inflammation.

Serotonin Production:

Approximately 90% of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that regulates mood, is produced in the gut. Blueberries may influence serotonin levels by promoting a healthy gut microbiome, positively affecting mood and cognitive functions.

Short-Chain Fatty Acid (SCFA) Production:

The fermentation of blueberry fibers by gut bacteria leads to the production of SCFAs, which have anti-inflammatory and neuroprotective properties. This process supports the integrity of the gut barrier and influences brain health.

Incorporating them into the diet may offer a natural approach to enhancing gut health and cognitive function by positively influencing the gut-brain axis.

Disclaimer
The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

As told to Jacquelyne Froeber

“I’ve never seen anything as invasive as this in my life,” my surgeon said.

I was still groggy from the anesthesia, but the look on his face meant what I heard was true. Apparently, I was in surgery for six hours — not two — and whatever was growing in my ear was also in the layers of tissue protecting my brain.

“It looks like cancer,” he said.

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt at that moment. I went in for an ear infection. Now I have brain cancer?

It all started innocently enough. In January 2011, my right ear was full of pressure and everything sounded muffled, like I was underwater. But I didn’t think it was too serious. January was actually a really happy and exciting time. It was the month my first granddaughter was born, and I couldn’t think of a better way to start the new year.

I was diagnosed with a mild ear infection, so I took antibiotics but they didn’t help. Nothing did. I was eventually referred to an ear, nose and throat (ENT) specialist, but it took months to get an appointment. When I finally got in to see the specialist, I had a scan of my ear. The imaging showed that there was a mass, so they did a biopsy right away.

It was after the biopsy surgery that I learned that the mass was also in my brain and probably cancerous. But the pathology report came back negative. “How is that possible?” I asked. My provider was stumped. He said the tumors acted like cancer, so we were going to treat it like cancer — very aggressively.

I had surgery to remove the tumors — and that surgery was a success — but six weeks later, the mass was back. And two weeks after that, another mass was growing in the left side of my head. It took five surgeries to remove that one.

We still didn’t have confirmation that the tumors were cancer, but I started radiation to try to stop them from growing. I’m a radiologic technologist by trade, so I understood the effects of radiation treatments — but I didn’t know how terrible the side effects were going to be for me. The treatments left me weak and drained of all my energy. I was also having debilitating headache attacks that felt like a sledgehammer to the skull.

On top of everything, the radiation wasn’t working. And at that point, the mass had damaged the hearing structures in my right ear, and I needed surgery for a cochlear implant.

(Photo/Courtesy of Sabrina Riddle)

By November 2013, I was worn down. Exhausted. Depressed and unable to hear out of my right ear. With my granddaughter’s second birthday approaching, I could only think one thing: I’ve been in this fight for two years and here comes another year I’m going to have to deal with whatever this undiagnosed thing is.

I’d seen many specialists in effort to get a diagnosis and treatment plan. But one particular rheumatologist was curious enough to order a spinal tap. When the results of the spinal tap came in, she said, “I think I know what you have, but I can’t diagnose you. I need you to go to Massachusetts to see the leading researcher for this disease.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I packed my bags and met with the specialist the next week. His name was Dr. Stone, and he told me I had immunoglobulin G4-related disease (IgG4-RD) — an extremely rare inflammatory disease. He explained to me that IgG4-RD causes tumors to form in different parts of your body and it looks and behaves just like cancer because it’s so aggressive — but it’s not cancer.

I sobbed with relief right there in his office — I finally had a diagnosis. But I was also crying for the past three years of my life. All of the surgeries, multiple hospitalizations, the boatload of steroids — and they have their own set of issues — none of it helped. I don’t fault the doctors for any of it, but I’d been through a lot. And if that was the treatment for cancer — what would treatment for a rare disease like this one be like?

Dr. Stone is known as the godfather of IgG4-RD, and he reassured me that my new treatment plan was going to work and it wasn’t as harsh as radiation. I started a biologic infusion and right away I began to see signs that the disease was going into remission. It felt like a weight was being lifted off of my life. For the first time in a long time, I felt hope for the future.

I started feeling better — I had way more energy, fewer headache attacks and visual disturbances, and improved joint pain. I even got a little cocky, thinking I was a one-and-done and I could put the disease behind me.

But that wasn’t the case. In 2015, I had a relapse. It started with blurred vision and severe headache attacks — and this time the cognitive decline was swift and shocking. I was devastated. I had the treatment infusion, and within about two months, I started to feel more like myself again. But when I relapsed again in 2017, I realized that this was probably going to be a pattern for the rest of my life.

Each time takes a toll. The effects of IgG4-RD disease on the layers of my brain (called meninges) can cut off oxygen to the brain and arteries and cause seizures, so I am really concerned with each flare because I don’t know what might happen each time it comes back.

Last November, I was on the phone with my sister and I just lost it. I felt like the disease was looming over my life, even when I was in remission. The loneliness that comes with having a rare disease adds another layer of sadness and despair. I didn’t have a single person to talk to who really knew about what was happening to me or understood that I looked OK on the outside, but I was the furthest thing from OK. I told her I wished there were more advocacy around the disease.

About a week later, I got my wish. An advocacy group called me and asked if I’d be interested in speaking at a conference about IgG4-RD. I was so shocked I nearly dropped the phone. By December, I was on a plane to the conference, and since then I’ve been working as a patient advocate for IgG4-RD.

Through my new platform, I connect with other patients with IgG4-RD, as well as caregivers and healthcare providers trying to advance treatment for the disease. Having a community has been a life changer for me. Having a rare disease is exhausting — especially one that affects your brain. But I now know that I don’t walk this road alone.

Right now, I’m going through a relapse and it’s hard. The pain is sometimes unmanageable and the heavy doses of pain medication weigh me down. But in the past year I’ve seen so much advocacy and research that makes me hopeful for the future. And sometimes all you can do is keep hope alive while you wait.

This educational resource was created with support from Amgen, a HealthyWomen Corporate Advisory Council member.

My second year of professional soccer started out great. I worked hard during training, and I got stronger and faster every day. Then one afternoon — out of the blue — a tsunami of fatigue washed over me. It was so bad I couldn’t climb the stairs to my second-floor apartment without stopping to rest.

There I was, a professional athlete running miles a day, and I could barely make it up the stairs.

Still, I didn’t think it was anything serious. “It’s mono,” I thought. I’d sleep it off and feel better in a few days. But the fatigue was relentless. By the next week, I could barely move. My legs were so heavy they felt like they were in quicksand. As I stood in the middle of the practice field, it hit me that there was something seriously wrong with my body.

The team trainer told me to see a healthcare provider immediately. That provider ordered blood work, and it turned out, my white blood count was really low.

He referred me to an oncologist, which shook me to my core. I didn’t know much about cancer but that thought hadn’t crossed my mind. Thankfully, when I saw the oncologist the following day, he said I didn’t have cancer, but he wanted me to see a rheumatologist.

I was lucky to get an appointment for the following week, and I continued to play soccer even though I was running on fumes. When I saw the rheumatologist, he said my liver enzymes were really high and he wanted to do a Schirmer’s test. Of course, I didn’t know what that was, but I said yes. He took two innocent-looking strips of paper and stuck them under my eyelids. It was the worst experience ever. Those five minutes felt like five years. When he finally pulled the strips from my eyes, they were completely dry, which meant my tear glands weren’t producing fluid.

“You have Sjögren’s,” he said. He handed me some pamphlets and explained that I had an autoimmune disease that attacked moisture-producing glands in my body and caused dry eyes, dry mouth and bouts of fatigue. In my case, the fatigue was extreme.

And that was it. He pretty much sent me on my way and made it sound like Sjögren’s disease wasn’t a big deal. I’d just have to push through the tiredness until I felt better.

But everything got worse.

On top of the heaviness and fatigue, I started having joint pain and muscle pain on a level I’d never felt before. As an athlete, I was very aware of my body and I knew what I was experiencing wasn’t normal. I wondered if it could be connected to Sjögren’s disease, but in 2002 there wasn’t much information out there. The provider gave me all the resources (pamphlets) he had. Shortly after I was diagnosed, I moved to another city and another team, which is common in soccer and meant I had to start over with a new healthcare provider every six months.

For years, I felt like the only person in the world with Sjögren’s disease. I didn’t know anyone who had it, and I hid my symptoms from teammates and coaches because I was afraid they would think I couldn’t play at the elite level. This wasn’t just paranoia — I told my first coach I had Sjögren’s disease right after I was diagnosed, and I went from starting every game to basically being benched. So I wasn’t taking any chances going forward.

Although I tried to keep the disease a secret, there were physical symptoms I couldn’t hide. Some games, I was literally foaming at the mouth because I don’t make enough saliva and I couldn’t just break for water whenever I wanted.

The mysterious joint and muscle pain never stopped — and I never stopped trying to figure out why it was happening. In 2008, I went to a new provider who ordered some different tests. When the labs came back, she diagnosed me with lupus. She said it made sense because many people with Sjögren’s disease have additional autoimmune diseases, and lupus is a common one.

I was stunned. Two diseases? How much can one person handle? But I was also relieved. For years, I’d been in pain and having joint issues and no one knew why. Now I knew I was dealing with another disease, and I could tackle both head-on.

I told my family about the double diagnosis, but no one else. I continued to push through days I didn’t feel good and played bad and couldn’t express why. And there were many days when the loneliness of keeping it all a secret hurt more than anything else. I won my second Olympic gold medal that year, but it was one of the hardest times in my life.

In 2011, I started volunteering for the Lupus Foundation, and I was so inspired by the research and growing community that I realized I could use my platform to help bring awareness to both lupus and Sjögren’s disease.

I told my coaches first and then my teammates. Everyone said the same thing: “We had no clue.” And everyone was amazing — it makes me emotional when I think of all the kindness and support they gave me right away. One night at dinner, I was having a flare and the joint pain in my wrist and fingers was so bad it was hard for me to cut my steak. My teammate next to me didn’t say a word — she just grabbed my plate, cut up the steak, placed it back down in front of me and continued with her dinner. Later that night, I was struggling to step down from the bus when suddenly I had teammates all around me picking me up and helping me to the ground. No one looked at me differently or treated me differently. I know in my heart that their support was the reason I was able to go on and play for so long.

2024

In 2012, I went public about living with both diseases and won my third (and final) Olympic gold medal. I retired in 2015 and started putting more of my energy into raising awareness about lupus and Sjögren’s disease.

Today the diseases have more of an impact on my life than when I was playing professionally. My eyes are constantly grainy and painful because I don’t make enough fluid to keep them moisturized and clean. I still have a lot of joint pain and, most days, I’m so tired I don’t really remember what it’s like to have a lot of energy. This is my new normal. All of it takes a toll. But I’m thankful there’s a lot of support in the Sjögren’s community. I know we’re all on the same team, striving for advancements in treatments that don’t just help us live our lives. A cure is the goal.

This educational resource was created with support from Amgen, a HealthyWomen Corporate Advisory Council member.

As told to Erica Rimlinger

At my annual physical in spring 2002, my blood work was not quite right. “Your liver function isn’t great,” the doctor said. “We’ll give it another year, and if it’s still off, we’ll do something about it.” I didn’t think much about it. I didn’t have symptoms worth noting. I was tired, of course, but aren’t most people?

The next year, when my blood work again came back looking suspicious, my doctor called and left me a message at work, saying he wanted to test me for hepatitis. I was surprised and more than a little confused: I had no risk factors. I was certain my doctor was wrong.

A few months later, I changed jobs. I had to wait for my new health insurance to begin, and I didn’t have enough sick time to take time off from work to go to the doctor anyway.

But health problems don’t always care about your insurance or sick leave availability. One day at my new job, I had a gastric attack that kept me in the bathroom for 45 minutes. There was so much blood I thought I must have been bleeding internally.

Once I composed myself enough to return to my desk and call my doctor, I had to ask my new, all male coworkers: “Can somebody drive me to the hospital?” Panic ensued. After debating who had the keys, what hospital I was going to, and who was going to call my parents, one coworker screeched his car up to the front of the building and drove me, quickly and sometimes in the wrong direction, to the hospital. I tried to stay calm amid the chaos, but inside, I was panicking.

At the hospital, the tests revealed no clues to the source of the attack. I was instructed to make an appointment with a gastroenterologist, a GI doctor. I saw him the week before Christmas, and he told me he thought I had primary biliary cholangitis, or PBC. As part of the diagnosis, the doctor ordered a liver biopsy to confirm this and said that in his 30 years practicing medicine, he’d only seen one other person with this condition.

What was PBC? My mom and I sat crying in the car outside the doctor’s office, searching the internet on our phones. I read that I could require a liver transplant and that PBC could shorten my lifespan. I didn’t know if I was going to live or for how long. We didn’t tell anybody, except for my husband, until after the holidays. I didn’t want to ruin Christmas.

The biopsy confirmed I had PBC, and I started taking a medicine that would be the only PBC treatment available to me for many years to come.

Some people have symptoms that lead to their PBC diagnosis, but I didn’t. After I was diagnosed, however, I started experiencing severe diarrhea, making my normal daily activities impossible. One memorable occurrence found me crouched under an umbrella in the pouring rain on the side of a highway. With the help of my husband and family, I coped, eventually developing systems and tools to get me through. Hoping to improve my health, I had gastric bypass surgery in 2007, believing — unrealistically — that weight loss would help with all my liver problems. It didn’t.

2022

I stopped investing my energy in wishful thinking and realized I needed to live with my illnesses, not just survive. I started with my upcoming high school reunion. In high school I’d been a wallflower: I didn’t participate in activities and kept to myself. But today I realized that person needed to change. I volunteered to help plan the reunion, and the reunion committee gave out a new award that year: the butterfly award. I won it because I had finally come out of my chrysalis. I knew I was on the right path.

I started advocacy work, which I continue to do today. Every February, I head up to Capitol Hill to advocate for rare diseases. My goal is to knock on every door every year until there are no more rare diseases to cure.

After a while, the PBC medication I’d been taking for many years stopped working as well as it had been, and my blood work started to show that my liver function was getting worse. My gastroenterologist was retiring, but through networking with other people living with PBC, I found a doctor who put me on a new medication that turned out to be a good fit for me.

Then the FDA took some steps that impacted my ability to get the medicine. My newfound advocacy and lobbying skills came to the rescue when I later testified before the FDA on behalf of the medication. After the hearing, the FDA put steps in place that would keep the medicine available. I’d been heard.

My experience with a rare chronic illness has taught me to find something good out of every bad thing. Today, I have hope for new developments that will be coming with improved understanding of the disease. I wish more people with PBC knew they have treatment options. There’s no cure — that’s true — but you can make plans.

You can live a life and be a whole person, not a statistic. I have PBC, but I’m not PBC, and I’m not defeated by it. Dealing with a rare chronic illness has helped me discover a belief in myself I never knew I had.

This educational resource was created with support from Gilead.

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