That’s the tragedy I was referring to in my previous post. Tragedy is a strong word for a little, niggling, nagging, clicking sort of pain.
But then again… Amit had a pain in the knee and that kept him away from the tennis court for three whole years. I saw him struggle with three years of restlessness, three years of boredom, three years of building up muscle to support the tendon.
Whoever has gone off the tennis court in our circles due to some little, niggling pain in an arm or a leg, has rarely made it back. We are, after all, neither young, nor professional. I don’t even know yet what is wrong and how long it is going to take to fix it. The whole prospect of starting yet another round of doctor’s appointments is depressing beyond belief.
It’s already been three weeks since I played, but the little, niggling, clicking pain is still there. At first, I was (stupidly) optimistic that a week or two of rest would take care of it. But now, I just don’t know.
Tennis has been a wonderful thing in my life these past five years. It has motivated me to get up early and get out there. It has motivated me to do at least a bare minimum of exercise to keep moving. It has (probably, hopefully) prevented my weight from shooting up even faster than it already has done and has (probably) helped to keep my cholesterol numbers in a very healthy range. It has been a good companion to me, especially in the days when I was a SAHM and it was practically the only time I got out of the house on my own.
It can’t possibly be time to say goodbye.