Survival of the Fittest

As the famed (and eminently quotable) football coach Lou Holtz once said, “When all is said and done, more is said than done.”

Too true, Lou. Sometimes I feel like all I do is think, talk and write about fitness.

But for the past week and a half, even amid more-confluent-than-usual edit deadlines and general busyness, I made my own fitness a priority.

So yeah, I’m “just doing it.” On my way again, official training program in hand. Knock on wood, but I think I’ve gone from a loooong, slow ramp-up to being excited to work out hard again, often. And that feels really satisfying.

What I wasn’t quite prepared for, however, was the disgust I would feel with the current state of my body. And trust me, I know that’s not at all where I should be coming from — I’m chanting every feel-good mantra I can think of, namely, “Start where I am, start where I am, start where I am.” But I was horrified the other night when I replaced my first set’s squat weight in favor of something a bit more … petite.

What I said aloud was, “Totally fine, probably a blessing in disguise. I can start from the ground up and work on perfect form.” What I said inside was, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! I’d already started out with less weight than I used to warm up with!”

During cardio, I felt like I wasn’t entirely in charge of my own body. Or, more accurately, that I wasn’t in charge of my own body in its entirety. Every so often, I would feel … not exactly a jiggle, but perhaps a little wiggle. Whatever it was, it was definitely other, and I couldn’t help but be horrified.

I recall the intimidation of the starting point from other times I’ve reintroduced my bod to a regular fitness regimen after a break, and a month from now, I know I’ll be in a healthier place — physically and emotionally.

But it’s all about how to get to a month from now, isn’t it? Avoiding the essentially pessimistic “back in the day” mindset, a la Al Bundy (pictured above). Figuring out how to make fitness, in some form, a nonnegotiable part of your daily routine.

Sometimes it may take an additional boost to avoid a backslide. And sometimes, just sometimes, you have to get that boost on the cheap.

Last week, Experience Life’s associate editor, Kaeti, asked me for some help researching how those with specific fitness goals are more apt to succeed than those who work out with less direction.

In compiling a few leads, I came across the article “20 Ways to Stick to Your Workout” by Men’s Health features editor Adam Campbell.

While I found myself nodding along to his suggestions about signing up for a race and switching up workout partners, something about the twisted No. 20, “Blackmail Yourself,” also struck a chord. It says:

Take a picture of yourself shirtless, holding a sign that shows your e-mail address. Then e-mail it to a trusted but sadistic friend, with the following instructions: “If I don’t send you a new picture that shows serious improvement in 12 weeks, post this photo at hotornot.com and send the link to the addresses listed below….” (Include as many e-mail addresses — especially of female acquaintances — as possible.) “It’s nasty, but extremely effective,” says Alwyn Cosgrove.

Now, I’m not condoning this as a long-term motivation strategy — using punishment and extrinsic motivators works directly against Experience Life’s “happy, healthy, for-real” message.

I’m not even condoning trying this as a short-term motivator. I’m just saying it’s an intriguing — if rather perverse — suggestion, and for me, even the idea of laying it out there so boldly could provide a kick in the pants, should I need it.

So maybe, to give my motivation zero wiggle-room, I’ll threaten myself with sending that email.

(Photo credit: Kim Magrini)

Over the last few years, I’ve grappled with injuries, motivation and the dawning realization that I might be entering the twilight of this particular phase of my athletic career. That is, I may eventually want to find a sport that isn’t full contact. Eventually.

Since the 2006 Women’s Rugby World Cup, where I was a traveling reserve for the U.S. squad, I’ve been playing less rugby than I used to. Prior to that, I often played year-round; sometimes on as many as seven teams, counting select-sides and national team events.

But looking back, I can see where I sacrificed my fitness to avoid burnout, and over the past three years, I’ve basically ground to a halt on the fitness front.

That’s disappointing to me on a personal and professional level — I constantly delve into the world of fitness on behalf of the magazine, and I love learning about new concepts, so it’s time I start applying them to my own life again. After all, one cannot subsist on practice and games alone.

I suspect the trick will be in the reinvention process. I’m not done with rugby, by any means, but I’ve got to find something else I can’t wait to do — something that will get me in prison shape, preferably.

I’ve got friends who have broad interests and are masters of reinvention, whereas I tend to throw myself into my chosen sport with a single-mindedness that comes in handy when attempting to reach a specific goal, but is less valuable from a diversification perspective.

So the real question is, what else can I be? (Accepting suggestions….)

So far, two potential options:
1) A martial artist? A sign about a submission grappling class captured my attention the other day. (So much for finding a sport that isn’t full contact.)

2) Or maybe a trail runner? I’ve been tempted to hit the trail more often since we published Dimity McDowell’s article on the topic in April 2006. I’ve enjoyed trail running the few times I’ve done it, and if it holds true that this version of running is kinder on the joints, I just may have a shot.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. The trick for now, I think, is to just try a bunch of things and see what sticks.

To that end, on Sunday I went for a long walk in the woods alongside gorgeous Wissahickon Creek, part of Philadelphia’s 9,200-acre Fairmount Park. Last night I ran — well, shuffled — a couple miles around South Philly, and on the docket for tonight is at least part of the Pavel Tsatsouline DVD From Russia With Tough Love: Pavel’s Kettlebell Workout for a Femme Fatale (Dragon Door, 2003).

I have a hunch the woods might stick.