The whole point of tennis is that it’s pretty low impact, right? I mean, you’re not running into anybody. You don’t need to wear protective gear. It’s the second sport of choice when they want to show rich people out gallivanting, right behind croquet. You wouldn’t think playing for an hour would tire a guy out.
Well, you haven’t seen me play.
I went out and played for a bit over an hour yesterday, and probably half of that time was spent talking, not really playing. Most of the other half was spent chasing after balls that didn’t go over the net when I tried to serve. I wasn’t even able to play a full set through to the end. By the time we were finished, it was all I could do to stay upright and not collapse on the court and lay there like a dead dog. Somehow I managed to make my way to a bench and wheeze for a while.
The rest of the day, I was pretty much worthless. Cleaning dishes was beyond my abilities, and even gathering up the energy to write was a struggle.
Glad to see all that weight loss, exercise, and strength training have paid off. Why can I say that?
Because yesterday I actually was winning before I had to call off the game and melt into a puddle.
Of course, today I feel all creaky and tired, but I’m trying not to give myself too hard of a time. It was the first time I was out playing this year, and it’s just a reminder that jogging in place while watching Netflix really isn’t a substitute for going outside and actually playing a sport. Even a preppy sport like tennis.
And in all honesty, tennis has a bad rap. It’s hard. Lots of running, cutting, finesse. I took lessons for a few years when I was a kid, believe it or not. And I still enjoy watching it.
No real chance of me giving Sampras or Federer a run for their money anytime soon, though . . .