Tennis for One

I’m told that my tennis racquet does indeed have a sweet spot but, for all my staggering strokes taken against the technically sound Joseph, I had yet to develop my sweet swing.  What I required was a lot of no pressure practice, so during a lazy Friday lull I gathered my two tennis racquets and three tennis ball and took to the Five Seasons basketball court.

Hitting the balls against the wall was so much fun that I lost track of time.  Over the course of three hours, I swung and swung with the intention of going until I fatigued my arm.  At first the motion felt so unnatural that it started to hurt my wrist and sent the balls far up the wall, clanging off the windows thirty feet high.  Then, a little tired, I relaxed my wrist and eased the trajectory of my swing and the balls started coming off straighter, giving me much better control.  The more strokes I took the more the balls popped off the sweet spot and the longer my rallies got. 

Much more than on the hard court, the wood floor sapped most of the returning tennis ball’s bounce, so by the time it got back to me I had to really concentrate on putting a fast and full swing on the ball in order to put power into the shot.  When my legs got tired from running and shuffling, I went up to seven feet from the wall and practiced my net work.  Without letting the ball hit the ground, I kept the racquet light in my hand, tapping the ball against the wall. 

Repeating the long strokes and the short work quickly passed the time and I was amazed how well my body met this challenge in endurance.  The next day I wasn't sore in my legs, knee or ankles as I would have expected.  All the swinging from the core caused my abs to be tender Saturday morning, which—ultimately wanting a six pack—I love.  I bet a lot of tennis players have washboard abs and, if so, a tennis player I will become!  Oh, I really need to work on my serve…