The Worst Part

I love holidays!  Who doesn’t?
One of my favorites has always been Memorial Day.  I’m not sure what we are supposed to celebrate but to me it always meant the beginning of great weather and outside play. 
However, in the past several years, the Saturday of Memorial weekend is NOT one of my favorite days.
I love to play tennis on Saturdays.  Saturday is drop in tennis day and it is exciting to pick up a good match with people I don’t normally play with.  But the peace of the tennis courts is destroyed on this particular weekend. . .

Typically I can park right in front of the tennis courts.  But when there are cars lining the road on the way to the tennis court, it’s not a good sign.

I grabbed a spot so I wouldn’t have to walk too far or drive around looking for an empty spot.

There is a circus atmosphere and it’s loud and noisy even though it’s early in the morning.  There are campers everywhere complete with bbq’s, smoking (all sorts of things), loud conversations, loud music (not of my choosing), and lots of people.  The bathrooms are trashed and there is chaos everywhere. 

It requires the parks department to fence some things off.
Why is it different this weekend?  Because there is a HUGE softball tournament. . . . and it runs Friday night through Monday. . . non stop.  Who needs sleep?

Most of the ball fields are up the hill from the tennis courts. . . .and the players and their stuff are EVERYWHERE.  It’s noisy, smelly, dirty, and downright annoying.  Because some of the people who attend don’t respect the property, the courts are locked. 

It has become my least favorite Saturday to play tennis at the courts I love to play at. . . .(but a close second is the junior baseball tournament run along similar lines.)

Healing

I had to deal with all this excitement one armed.  Truthfully it was a lot tougher than the first go around.  I’m not sure why.
Because I had been through the same surgery before, I KNEW what to expect . . so I worked on straightening my arm sooner.

I grew to hate my splint.  It was so much nicer with it off.

I KNEW when I’d get my stitches out. . . but I was wrong!  The stitches were different this time.  He put them on the inside so there was nothing to remove!

I decided that splint or no splint, I could still do things .  . like hit on the backboard!

But it was hard to watch my friends play REAL tennis.

I was “released from my splint and sent off to physical therapy. . .

and told me I could play tennis as long as I didn’t do anything stupid!  7 weeks is so much better than 5 1/2 months!

Zumba

I’ve been living a dream.  When I was growing up. I thought I might like to be a high school tennis coach. 
And then I thought about it.  Between a lack of confidence and not as much talent as I thought was required, I never pursued the dream.
Now that my kids are gone, with no signs of coming back (and being a model younger version of their current selves), I’ve had too much time to spare.  (really, we don’t want them to come back. . .it’s their time to spread their wings.)  Combine that with no church calling and an opportunity that presented itself. . .
A couple of my tennis buddies had taken on the coaching duties at the local high school, I considered volunteering, but talked myself out of it.  But then a wise friend straightened up my thinking and inspired me to just “do it.”
Next thing I knew, I was out on the courts a lot of days each week hitting balls to girls, shagging balls, imparting my knowledge and occasionally playing,  My heart was soaring!  There really is life (and joy) when the kids leave the nest.
Did I take any photos?  Negative.  But then one day the girls wanted to Zumba as part of practice.  One of the girls knew all the moves and made it look easy!

They had a ball.  It was really fun, when before one away match they decided to strut their stuff by Zumba-ing and completely intimidating the opposing team.
I have yet to Zumba myself, but that was never one of my goals.

Feels Like the First Time!

After being injured for so long, and trying to heal on my own, resorting to seeking help and ending up with surgery, it felt like a REALLY long time since I had played tennis with another person.  Oh wait, it WAS a really long time.
I was really nervous about playing.  I was afraid that I would re-injure myself (a hobby of late) and didn’t want to go through the agony again.
My physical therapist (and tennis playing buddy) told me that I should start hitting.  My doctor agreed.  So I started out by hitting against the backboard. . . gently.  Standing close, I could barely hit it hard enough to bounce off the wall.  But it didn’t hurt!
Each time I went out, I increased the time I hit and tried to hit with a bit more force.  Scary times!
One day when I was hitting, my hand started hurting.  What the heck!  I had not only developed a blister but it popped!  It didn’t occur to me that I might get one of those!
So I packed up to go and wandered by a nearby court where my physical therapist was. . . and she suggested that I played a little in her place. 
The thought petrified me so I was happy to tell her that I had a blister and couldn’t do it.  She pulled out her handy athletic tape and offered to tape up my hand.

I played my first game of tennis in over a year.  It wasn’t pretty but it was a start.

Giving Back

I took my first tennis lessons when I was six years old, if my faulty memory is correct.  It seems like it has been a part of my life ever since.
I am so grateful for all the opportunities I have had due to tennis.  It is a great physical outlet for me.  Sometimes I like the way I play and other times I have been frustrated.  But one of the great things about tennis is that you just might play better the next time.
I look for opportunities where I can show my gratitude for the game.  I have helped teach little kids tennis, I have volunteered to help with a tennis organization, I have captained a USTA tennis team, but I never feel like its enough.  I don’t always have the free time I wish I had to do so.
While I was still recovering from my elbow surgery and not playing at all (but hitting against the backboard here and there!), an opportunity came up.
I was asked to be a line judge for the regional high school tennis play-offs.  The lady who asked me included a bribe of a shirt. . . little did she know that I’d do it without the offer.

I was assigned to help out at the boy’s playoffs.  They were held at our high school’s rival.  (The courts are right next to the soccer fields and our teams were playing right after the first day of the tennis play-offs. .  . pretty handy!)
I’m not sure I was all that helpful.  I was supposed to watch for naughty behavior and be available to be a line judge.  I mostly watched some pretty good tennis.
At least I was wearing my nifty new shirt!

Almost 18 Weeks But Who’s Counting?

Gulp!
A few days shy of 18 weeks from my surgery, I packed up my tennis bag and headed out to the tennis courts. . .

and walked on by!

This was my goal ^
I *tried* to hit a few tennis balls off the backboard.  Oh my goodness.  It was hard, but it was so wonderful.
I didn’t last long, but I knew I wouldn’t.  Slow and steady wins the race.  There was no way I was willing to reinjure my arm on the first day out.
Then I went home and iced it.
It was a good great day.

What do you keep in YOUR tennis bag?

Because my life is boring and I couldn't think of anything to post about, I decided to share my tennis bag with YOU! (A friend gave it to me, but it looks impressive with the Tahoe Classic Finalist on it, doesn't it?)

If you don't have a tennis bag of your own, I highly recommend getting on. It is amazing all the stuff you can carry around with you. In fact, I am not showing you everything I put in there (because I am not THAT boring!)

It is a good idea to bring these kind of items. Too much sun is NOT good for you, so sunblock and a good chapstick are the way to go. And I need ibuprofen for all the aches and pains that join me when I play.

A tape measure is handy to have on hand. The net, at the center strap, should be 36 inches tall. If you feel like balls aren't going over that really should be, it's nice to KNOW if the net is too high. If it's not, then something you are doing needs to be changed.

As I get older and more feeble, I find I need some support. . . on my wrist and elbow. It's nice to have an extra, just in case!

How pathetic! I never used to carry these things around, but I guess I am getting as old as my kids claim I am. Sometimes, a little Icy Hot makes all the difference. It's also nice to have some bandaids on hand.

I just can't play without my shades. These are cool because it deadens the bright colors (like red) and helps you see the tennis ball color better.

It's also nice to wear a hat. Not only does it help block the sun, but it helps keep unruly hair out of the way.

I LOVE to play year round, but it can get cold here. So it's nice to have these around on those freezing days when you can't feel your fingers.

Of course you also need to have someone to play with. Hitting against a wall gets old fast. So I keep cards on hand with my contact info to give to fellow tennis players so they might call me when they want to play. Or I can join a USTA team and have a bunch of people to play with and some good competition on a regular basis.

Balls are a necessity. It's nice to have some old (but still bouncy) ones on hand to practice with in addition to new ones to play sets with.

And of course, one has to have a tennis racquet or it just doesn't work. It's nice to have a second on hand in case you break a string when you are playing.

Here's to hoping that something way more interesting pops up in my life because I am not sure I could produce a more boring post!