Game. Set. Match. Ouuuuuuuuuuuch.
Yesterday P and I decided to walk down the street to the local tennis courts and TRY to have a game of tennis. I must say I was pretty impressed with how we did.
Two years ago when we moved into the apartment we rushed out and bought tennis rackets as our apartment building had a court for tenants to use. I think we played twice, because:
A) we never had the time; and
B) we sucked.
Yesterday morning I mentioned to P about playing tennis, and he happily agreed to do it - so we got some breakfast and headed to the courts.
The first few minutes we were on the court, I remembered why we didn't utilize our rackets that often - because P was such a gorilla with his racket that he couldn't keep the ball in play! I would serve the ball and he would hit it so hard that it would soarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr into the parking lot.
Now I am no pro when it comes to tennis, but between P and I, I am the one with some instruction behind my skills! When I was young, I took tennis lessons at the local Community Center in Thessalon. Every Tuesday and Wednesday at 4:00 for all of July and August, I had a 30 minute lesson. I was never superstar material, but I did enjoy the game. I have never forgotten what I was taught during those sweltering summer days - and as soon as we got on the court my skills came flooding back to me.
However, what began as the worst tennis match ever, quickly turned into a lot fun. We weren't five minutes into the match when P started to get the hang of his power. Instead of killing the ball, he was pleasantly returning my serves, and I would return the ball back to him. We were both getting a pretty good workout, and I was pleasantly surprised by our playing ability.
We were on the court for about an hour when we called it a game. My exhaustion showed as my face was beat red, but that was probably the most enjoyable hour of the whole weekend. I was all gung hoe to play more tennis....until... I WOKE UP THIS MORNING.
Apparently yesterday's little workout had me utilizing some muscles that went into hibernation over the winter. These would be ass muscles, leg muscles, arm muscles, stomach muscles, and every other muscle known to woman.
Good god, who knew that a little 60 minutes workout could be so painful today. I didn't think to strech before the game (because personally I thought it wouldn't be be much of a game, judging from how brutal we were two years ago). However, since we were actually good this time out... I am definitely paying the price for not properly preparing myself for the aftermath. I can't even go to the bathroom today with out letting out a howl when I have to squat above the toilet seat in a public restroom.
It's brutal...I want to die when I take the stairs down to the ground floor of my French building, I walk like I have a tennis ball lodged in my butt because my lower ass cheeks are in so much pain that they forbid me to walk normally.
I think this a sign of getting older -- I don't remember going through this sort of pain when I was 16 and playing tennis for the first time of the year. It's pretty sad to be 26 and be thinking 'I'm not as young as I use to be' - oh the depression that sets in today as I start another gruelling week of brutal French.
On the bright side...I am getting a pedicure tonight.... which is a lot more exciting than whining about sore muscles...so I will definitely update you about that, because getting a pedicure means its sandal season, and sandal seasons means bye bye boots! Yeeeeee-haw!
Two years ago when we moved into the apartment we rushed out and bought tennis rackets as our apartment building had a court for tenants to use. I think we played twice, because:
A) we never had the time; and
B) we sucked.
Yesterday morning I mentioned to P about playing tennis, and he happily agreed to do it - so we got some breakfast and headed to the courts.
The first few minutes we were on the court, I remembered why we didn't utilize our rackets that often - because P was such a gorilla with his racket that he couldn't keep the ball in play! I would serve the ball and he would hit it so hard that it would soarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr into the parking lot.
Now I am no pro when it comes to tennis, but between P and I, I am the one with some instruction behind my skills! When I was young, I took tennis lessons at the local Community Center in Thessalon. Every Tuesday and Wednesday at 4:00 for all of July and August, I had a 30 minute lesson. I was never superstar material, but I did enjoy the game. I have never forgotten what I was taught during those sweltering summer days - and as soon as we got on the court my skills came flooding back to me.
However, what began as the worst tennis match ever, quickly turned into a lot fun. We weren't five minutes into the match when P started to get the hang of his power. Instead of killing the ball, he was pleasantly returning my serves, and I would return the ball back to him. We were both getting a pretty good workout, and I was pleasantly surprised by our playing ability.
We were on the court for about an hour when we called it a game. My exhaustion showed as my face was beat red, but that was probably the most enjoyable hour of the whole weekend. I was all gung hoe to play more tennis....until... I WOKE UP THIS MORNING.
Apparently yesterday's little workout had me utilizing some muscles that went into hibernation over the winter. These would be ass muscles, leg muscles, arm muscles, stomach muscles, and every other muscle known to woman.
Good god, who knew that a little 60 minutes workout could be so painful today. I didn't think to strech before the game (because personally I thought it wouldn't be be much of a game, judging from how brutal we were two years ago). However, since we were actually good this time out... I am definitely paying the price for not properly preparing myself for the aftermath. I can't even go to the bathroom today with out letting out a howl when I have to squat above the toilet seat in a public restroom.
It's brutal...I want to die when I take the stairs down to the ground floor of my French building, I walk like I have a tennis ball lodged in my butt because my lower ass cheeks are in so much pain that they forbid me to walk normally.
I think this a sign of getting older -- I don't remember going through this sort of pain when I was 16 and playing tennis for the first time of the year. It's pretty sad to be 26 and be thinking 'I'm not as young as I use to be' - oh the depression that sets in today as I start another gruelling week of brutal French.
On the bright side...I am getting a pedicure tonight.... which is a lot more exciting than whining about sore muscles...so I will definitely update you about that, because getting a pedicure means its sandal season, and sandal seasons means bye bye boots! Yeeeeee-haw!
posted by SC at 1:06 PM
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