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Given the fact that I'm so damn sore I can barely move, I've decided to explore my more creative side. So I give to you all an ode of sorts to tennis.
There's a certain way the muscles burn that elicits a perverse pleasure throughout the body. It's the way they stretch and ache each time you take that one extra step, each time you push yourself forward that one more inch, that does it. There's accomplishment there, a sort of self satisfaction that compares to nothing else.
It's music; the squeak of the sneakers against the courts, the way the ball sounds as it hits against that sweet spot in the center of the racket, the grunt of both you and your opponent as you expend every energy to get there. Together they form a melodious harmony that sings a sweet tune in the ear that is unmatched.
And after? After the exhaustion hits, but in defeat or victory you're far too gone in the moment you just had to really notice it. It isn't until later, much later, when you allow your weary muscles to soak in steaming water that you realize just how tired it makes you. But you don't care, you never will care. Because it's tennis. Because for as long as you are on the court, you are the master of your own destiny. You learn, you grow, you accept responsibility for all of your own actions. And as the last bit of the burn in your muscles seeps away, you wonder just how long it will be until you can do it all over again.
There's a certain way the muscles burn that elicits a perverse pleasure throughout the body. It's the way they stretch and ache each time you take that one extra step, each time you push yourself forward that one more inch, that does it. There's accomplishment there, a sort of self satisfaction that compares to nothing else.
It's music; the squeak of the sneakers against the courts, the way the ball sounds as it hits against that sweet spot in the center of the racket, the grunt of both you and your opponent as you expend every energy to get there. Together they form a melodious harmony that sings a sweet tune in the ear that is unmatched.
And after? After the exhaustion hits, but in defeat or victory you're far too gone in the moment you just had to really notice it. It isn't until later, much later, when you allow your weary muscles to soak in steaming water that you realize just how tired it makes you. But you don't care, you never will care. Because it's tennis. Because for as long as you are on the court, you are the master of your own destiny. You learn, you grow, you accept responsibility for all of your own actions. And as the last bit of the burn in your muscles seeps away, you wonder just how long it will be until you can do it all over again.