Talk about dishing out a can of whoop-@$$

By 1:19 AM

After talking so much smack about how good i am at tennis, and how athletic i am.... I lost horribly. As i walked onto the court, and observed Adam playing doubles i realized there was ZERO competition.


Mind you, in my defense, I was athletic. I was to do cross country every year. I even placed in the top 10 once, in the early days. I grew lazier with age and mom would end up joining me half the journey discouraging any thought of dropping out. She was one of the teachers in charge of our House (Red Team) and she sure as hell wasn't going to let a contributory point pass by. Besides, i didn't mind. Gives me something to tell my grandkids when i have them.

I also did high jump (once), swimsplash (every year... infact my mom sent me to swimmng lessons just so that i could learn to swim and get points for the team. lol.) and I even took part in a interschool swimming competition (once). I did track every year and placed well in most of my races (with several medals as evidence). AND i did tennis.

So in my mind I was an athlete.

Now... two years later, after relinquishing all ties with sporty things and clingy solely to academics i find myself even worse off than i was before. I pride myself on not suffering from muscle aches and such if i should feel the impulse to go jog or do some sport, despite me being out of practice with sports of any persuasion. I had faith in myself that the average tennis player in me can reveal itself.


I was wrong.

I couldn't serve the proper way - i ended up doing the bounce the ball on the court and hit over the net. -.-

I couldn't hit the ball into the squares to prevent it from being outside - when i managed to make it over the net.

I missed balls that were coming straight at me - and for a good bit, if i managed to hit it... strangely enough i ended up hitting it onto the next court, above my head, or behind me.

I also became desperately tired (and thirsty) 15 minutes into the game.

I conclude,
I suck.


Fortunately, the perfectionist in me refuses to accept defeat (that's so blatantly obvious).

I've taken up jogging, which yes i know, long-term effects is that its bad for my knees. But screw my knees, must get better at tennis. I'm going and perform a full hunt for MY raquet. I also believe thats a reason for my defeat. I borrowed a racquet from Adam because I couldn't find mine. My racquet and I have a special bond... a special connection... Ok poor excuse.

I shall be fit again.

I seriously have to work on my forehand. -.- It's horrific.

Shelli Out.

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