As a child I loved to play.  I felt free and inspired and connected to my community.  Nobody needed to ask us to show up for a game.  We just did.  Exercise wasn't something we talked about, it was something that simply happened while we were playing.  And we all loved it. 

As I got older, I got involved with organized sports.  At first, it seemed to be a natural extension of play.  But gradually, the freedom and joy associated with playing gave way to the structure of practices and competitions.  We were no longer able to be spontaneous and make up our own rules, we were on a team.  And it was clear that there were valuable lessons to be learned on a team: fair play, tenacity, perseverance.  I found I enjoyed team competition and I was good at it.

But the better an athlete I became, the more I was encouraged to specialize.  There were good reasons for this. People who specialized were rewarded with scholarships, so I chose long distance running and I was soon invited to join the Division I Track and Field program of my choice.  I thrived on the competition and, with the encouragement of my college coach, I worked towards becoming the captain of my team.  I learned leadership skills as a captain that were invaluable during those years, but there was something that was missing.   

 

When I left college my career in competitive athletics ended.  At first this was hard for me.  I had spent most of my life focusing in on very singular goals and then, having met them, I wasn't sure where to turn.  But then it occurred to me that what I was missing during all those years of training and competition was the simple joy and freedom I felt as a child when I played.

So I began to run again.  Not for any coach or any team, but just for myself.  As soon as I put my sneakers on I could feel the burdens of the world lift and the pure joy of physical activity flow through my body.  This was the experience I had been missing and the one I wanted to preserve.

It occurred to me that the reason that most adults give up on sports or any type of athletic activity is because they, too, have lost their ability of play.  It is for this reason that most adults are over-weight and lead lifestyles that are almost devoid of any physical activity.  I began to wonder if there might be a way to encourage play among older children and adults so that they, too, might recapture that early sense of freedom and joy that so many have lost.     

I decided that I would dedicate myself to helping others reconnect athleticism--a key ingredient to any happy life--to the simple pleasure of play.  This could take the form of anything from a game of beach volleyball to a brisk stroll by the river.          

I do not believe that being active should be relegated to the gym and I believe that with some education and some inspiration, Americans will happily get up on their feet and begin to play again.  I know this is something that will help them in all areas of their lives, from their weight to their blood pressure to their psychological well-being.          

My goal is to apply this theory of a return to play to the broader community.  It is what inspired me to create Anything But the Gym.  I look forward to bringing play back into the lives of Americans who, like me, got lost along the way.