Tennis, Anyone?
Little things continue to amaze me. Yesterday my husband picked me up for lunch, and we decided that after work we would head out to the park and...(you ready for this?)...play tennis. Play should be in quotes. But the important thing is that we went.I had played tennis during my teenage years and in college when I was healthy and slim. I even took tennis lessons in the summers, and played with my mom and younger brother who had a pretty good game by age 10. Once in college, my game became racquetball because I learned how nice indoor courts were for not having to chase balls. And, on the off-chance that I didn't have a partner, I could practice by myself. But I figure the last time I had even touched a tennis racket had to be at least 13 years ago - and at least 75 pounds ago.
My husband, on the other hand, plays tennis quite well and has taken lessons and plays on a quasi-regular basis. And he is in pretty good physical shape. And he is competitive.
I was worried that the evening would not go well. I was worried about looking like the hippo from Fantasia. I was worried I would embarass him or frustrate him with launched tennis balls soaring over the gates and into the neighboring courts. I was worried that he would resent the wasted time out there. I worried I wouldn't even be able to hit the ball.
It felt strange to hold a racket again, and to hit the ball. I had trouble getting my serve over the net, but Michael was encouraging - telling me I needed to toss higher, or not hesitate as long on the drop. Finally, I was getting a serve over the net from time to time. I could return some of his, and by the end of the night we were able to hit the ball back and forth. He complimented me for going after shots, or hitting them solidly. He was so nice and patient, it was unbelievable. (That, coincidently, was very sexy.) He told me that it would take a while to break myself of the habit of swinging straight across instead of slightly up.
My desire here isn't to over-analyze our evening. I just wanted to acknowledge how nice it was to get outside and spend time together without worrying about big pressing life issues. I slept well, too - unaided by medications. Of course, I was worn out.
Before we fell asleep last night, my husband rolled over toward me and said, "You looked good out there tonight." I giggled like a school girl. I couldn't help it. I didn't know wether he was talking about my body or what - and come to find out, he was talking about my abilities. He said he was proud of me for not being afraid of the ball, and for "attacking it". I fell asleep with visions of me being tough. And it felt good. I like to think I'm a tough cookie.
I'm proud of myself for getting out there, and for not letting my fear control me. I'm grateful for the little things like hitting around a tennis ball to get my husband and I to smile for a while...together.
posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 7/07/2005 11:00:00 AM
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