I get beat all the time. Some days, it doesn't matter who I'm facing on the tennis court. Some days, the only foe that I have on the tennis court is myself. These are the worst days. There's nothing worse than consistently tripping over myself, wallowing in my mistakes. Some days, I just don't move well to the ball. Much of tennis is really preparation. Some days, my limbs and feet just don't work. Some days, I run around the tennis court like a "big blob of flesh." I'm unable to command even my most basic instincts.
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NYC Tennis Blog
- The Everyday Adventurer
- I can’t seem to find my way anywhere. I have systematically spun myself in circles. I’m tired of wearing this heavy backpack. I can’t find the Trailhead, but I do eventually stumble across the highway. My compass tells me that I need to head north. I pitch my thumb and start trying to hitch a ride. And I try for a while, with just about everyone driving by. I must look terrible, the backcountry having gotten the best of me. Finally, an old Hippie stops his jalopy and proceeds to drive me for several miles until my vehicle appears. Sitting right where I left it, only yesterday. Suddenly, I’m out of the Wilderness and back into the safety of my operating vehicle with a heater
Old School
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