Survival of the Fittest

(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.