Despite the fact that I was 175 pounds on a good day, I avoided the disabled list for the bulk of my Major League career. When I finally reached the point where I could be a free agent, I signed with the Texas Rangers in 2003 at 32 years old, in hopes that I could earn the starting centerfield job.

Fortunately, I won that job. Unfortunately, in the first month of the season, I heard a pop running down the first base line. Not good.

My semi-tendonosus hamstring tendon (aka Semi-T) had popped and it became clearer that once I could do more than “resume baseball activities,” I would need to go on a rehab assignment. Something I had never done in my entire professional career.

I was happy to finally go out and report to a team after weeks of hamstring workouts at the big league park in Texas. I had to remind myself that the milestone of being “sent out” was an important one, since my training at home in Texas was also full of feeling like I was in the way of the players that were healthy. It was tough to just sit on the bench in the dugout with no ability to contribute with the nagging knowledge that my body had failed, therefore I failed the team.

Before reporting, I had to retain the training routines I had collected from Texas to be able to follow with less guidance, since there was less staff to work with me in the minors. The science was cool, but the workouts are full of solitude. The underwater treadmill, the crawling around on a scooter, the ultrasound to break up scar tissue which was like knives stabbing the back of your leg, the ice, the heat. I was ready to be part of any team, even if it wasn’t my major league counterparts.

Even so, the idea of going back to the minors gave me a wide range of emotions. I felt the pressure of needing to perform well given I was a big leaguer in the minor leagues. I recalled when MLB-er Gregg Colbrunn came down to A-Ball on a rehab assignment while I was in the minors with the Cubs. He hit everything hard, like he was playing against toddlers. Is that what I was expected to do? With a bad hamstring?

Strangely enough, I had a hitting streak still going from 1996 which I extended my first game back (seven years later.) But what was troubling me was realizing that it was going to take as much time to get ready for the game as it was to play it. My pre-game routine was not just my favorite traditions anymore, but it was a full-on health regimen that my body truly depended on.

You are not 100 percent when you go on these rehab assignments. I was still in some pain, still limping, but not enough to stop me. The key state you need to reach with pain is that it is not getting worse. My legs were my game, so I wondered what I would be if I did not have my speed any more. I doubt an MLB team would sign a slow singles hitter. Is that what I am becoming?

I reported to Oklahoma City for Triple-A, and the Frisco Rough Riders for Double-A games. Ranger teammate Chan Ho Park would also be rehabbing at the same time as me. In Double-A, you could see that they had limited resources, especially when we were on the road. I remember when Chan Ho swooped in one day, grabbed arms full of water bottles from the team fridge, not realizing this was all the bottled water the team got for the day.

As we saw with the Cubs' Yu Darvish this week, given the big league salaries of players on a rehab assignment, it is customary league-wide that they feed the team. Even at my then lower rung free agent salary, I matched the payroll of the entire Triple-A team. At one point, a debate broke out in the training room (where us old, injured players were a lot during the pre-game.) I had paid for a spread in Iowa for nice food after the game. It was Park’s turn to splurge for which he balked, citing a bad experience from his LA days.

The way I tried to convince him was explaining that each time the trainer stretched him for 30 seconds, he made more than the payroll of the entire minor league team (slight exaggeration, but effective), so he had no choice but to join in on the tradition. Despite his fighting it, we ordered from Outback, and I put the bill in his locker.

Being back in the minors was a lot easier in this arrangement because you are assured you will eventually be leaving to go back to the show. It helped me appreciate the intimacy of the team and the community around these players. The booster clubs, and the fan access, the on-field games for the fans, the hunger of players trying to make it for the first time, even the frustration of a player stalling out in Double-A, not sure if it will ever happen.

Yet setbacks in your rehab will happen. At one point, my leg was really bothering me and I sensed I needed a day off. There was some chatter that I was slacking by wanting a day off, which really bothered me. A scout came to town to “get on me about it” but learned that I was putting in the work and could understand that even for selfish reasons, I was a free agent after the season and gained nothing by staying hurt. On this setback day, I just could not get loose. Turned out that taking that day off was the best thing I ever did. I felt better each day after that and soon after, I was back with the Rangers. You have to know your body, but you also have to push it. Not an easy balance to figure out.

The rehab assignment was a time of great humility and fear. It was not simply about getting back, but performing at the highest level. I was not trying to be able to walk without a limp, but I needed to outrun a ball in the gap. The sense that you could go back to the minors and never be seen again. The knowledge that your warmup routine will never be the same. Ice, heat, ultrasound, stretching, just to get to the team stretch. I was 32 at the time, knowing this was the beginning of the decline and that I better smell the roses. All daunting emotions.

When I finally came back, I had a new perspective and after a slow June, I had one of the best months of my career. Around that time, I also started to get items signed by my teammates and opponents as keepsakes. I used to avoid asking, but now I knew that time was ticking on my career and that I better capture a memento from the greatest players of my time.

Before my body runs out of time.