Tennis, Anyone?

As part of my intro-to-Woodside package, they gave me one free tennis lesson. Now, even I know one tennis lesson is not enough, so I went ahead and signed up for their eight session, Adult 101, class last month.

I had signed up for the Wednesday morning classes. It turns out that not everyone has my ethic around showing up for classes I've paid for, because that first morning, I was the only student to show up. No complaints on my part!

I've always wanted to learn to play tennis - to the point where I've had an aspirational tennis racquet in my closet for the past two decades. OK, three. 

I wasn't sure if the racquet was still any good, but I dusted it off anyways and brought it with me to the first lesson, where I showed it to the coach. To his credit, he stifled his laughter and actually gave it a once-over. He pronounced it good enough to hit balls with until I decided if I really want to play, then informed me they have (real) racquets at the front desk for check-out as long as I play at the club. Works for me.

I've tried a time or two to play on my own, but quickly gave up in frustration. I never could get the ball to go where I wanted it to, and chase-the-ball is not a fun game if one is not a golden retriever. But that first hour of individual tutelage totally upped my game. He showed me how to step the right way, and how to correctly hold and swing the racquet for forehand and backhand strokes. The difference in my playing ability was immediately apparent. (And they have a great little hopper to use to pick up the fifty-ish balls I hit during the lesson, so I didn't have to play chase-the-ball even once!)

The remainder of the lessons were just as fun. Despite the heat during the Saturday-at-11AM-in-full-August-sun sessions, time flew every time I stepped on the court. I learned something new at every class - how to volley, how to serve, the rules of the game. I was the oldest one there by at least two decades, so was pleased to find I could keep up with the other kids, and that my skills placed me squarely in the middle of the pack. Go, me!

And, to my pleasant surprise, my feet have been up to the demands of the game. I was worried that the pounding would reactivate my plantar fasciitis woes, but so far, so good. (Of course, I'm still at a VERY basic level - this still may not work once I wend my way up to playing actual games. But, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.)

I'm hooked enough to sign up for the Adult 201 classes later this fall. I don't have enough years left in me to get really good at the game, but I am hoping to get good enough to play matches for fun before my assorted aches and pains put me permanently on the sidelines.

And. I'm glad I didn't let the bag of assorted fears and doubts I carry with me stop me from signing up for the classes (it almost did...), because it feels really good to finally have put that aspirational tennis racquet to use. I'm not even sure why it was still lying around - I suppose it was because I didn't want to let it go before I'd actually tried to learn how to use it. See? I can still learn new things!