I’m such a late bloomer a friend recently told me I have a ‘spirit plant’ instead of ‘spirit animal‘.

You’re a rare genus of orchid that blooms a handful of times a century. Found in heavily wooded or remote swampy areas, you’re this tenacious, sculpted and delicate plant that takes years or decades to grow. The long timeframe, while annoying, is an important part of your journey because when you eventually blossom…

While I’m still unpacking her assessment, she’s not far from the truth in many ways. Always last to the parade, I am the person who plays a song on repeat a year after it was a hit, or adopts a fashion trend three seasons out of date, or reads the #1 book on the New York Times bestseller list that changed everyone’s life…five years after the mass transformation took place.

The only thing I’ve been on time for is being in motion. Sports have been a saving grace; an escape from countless things. It's no surprise then that my most current, and fashionably late, arrival involves activities that push the physical body to its limits. In the last year, I have become wedded to boxing in ways I could never have imagined.

This holy union almost didn't happen however, as several in my midst argued combat sports are for men or, at least, younger (read: >35) women.


**In September 2017, I started a blog to catalogue my experiences as a woman of “Advanced Fighting Age” WHO HAPPENED TO FALL IN LOVE WITH boxing. Updates WERE made on Wednesday and the occasional Saturday.

To follow THESE adventures in the world of combat sports visit: Not Made of Glass.**