I just got back from Chicago where I played another national tournament. This one was one of the four Category I tournaments that are offered each year in each age category. It is my goal to win a Category I tournament.
However, this time, that goal was unrealized.
Chicago seems to be a bad luck town for me.
Nothing went devastatingly wrong, but nothing went overwhelmingly right either.
The highlight of the tournament (which included a full blown asthma attack, being told by my great-grandmother that my "booty was growing bigger everyday", not having the strings I wanted to have in my racquet, and being stood up by my hitting partners before matches) was a fifth place finish in doubles.
But there were other highlights, like playing doubles against the most amazing 51-year old player ever! Mary Dailey won World's a few years ago and I strive to be like her every time I hit the court now and hope to be like her when I hit the court in the years to come. She is quick and smart and so incredibly cool. Her footwork is amazing and she's always so nice to me. From day one, she's talked to me like I belonged there.
My brother, Luther, went with me this time and it was so good to know that he was watching me and cheering me on.
My second loss in singles was a two-hour match where I only won two games! (To put it in perspective, my opening round match in VA was two hours and I played three sets!) So very long rallies that I couldn't come out on top of. But I am proud that I didn't feel tired during this match, so I know my fitness has improved. I had long rallies, so I know my consistency has improved.
There is so much to improve upon, but I can finally see improvement, too. And that is awesome.
So, as usual, it is back to work for me. Back to the gym, back to the court, back to training and eating right and playing hard and lessons and match play.
Stay tuned,
KS
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Keeping Dreams Close
When I returned home from VA, my husband had an article that he wanted me to read. You see, I had gone to VA to compete without telling a lot of people. Part of me was scared to tell anyone for fear of jinxing myself. But part of me just wanted to focus without a ton of questions from well-meaning friends and family; "How are you doing?", "How'd you play?", and the most dreaded of all, "Did you win?"
I also didn't want the curious, but judgmental questions that come from people not so close to me; "What are you doing, trying to win Wimbledon?", "How much did it cost to do that?", or "What are you doing that for?"
There are only so many times I can roll my eyes and answer, "Cuz!"
Back to the article.
It was a column written by Rochelle Riley that appeared in the Detroit Free Press. Riley spoke about how sharing her dreams as a young woman left her vulnerable to criticism. She spoke of a writer who was a friend of hers who wrote, "Sometimes, the only way to become what you were meant to be is to hide your dreams in your heart."
My husband often tells me, he fully expects to come home one day only to find out that I have accepted a job in another state doing something he had no idea I was interested in and my response to his jaw dropped to the floor will be, "Didn't I tell you?"
I think some of it, like the failure to fully disclose the details of my VA trip to everyone is by design, but some of it, lately, is the ability to focus so completely on the things I want to achieve.
I told the manager of the gym where I work out about my moderate success in VA. And I started to say, apologetically, like I have to so many people, "I would have told you beforehand, but..."
She stopped me and hugged me. And told me how proud she was of me and how she knew this was going to be my year. She's seen me sweating through sprints on the treadmill when the doors of the gym open in the AM. She's seen me waiting my turn at the squat station among guys whose pecs are so broad their arms rest at 45 degree angles. She's waved by to me on her way out, leaving me to my cardio and the night manager to his vacuuming. "I knew you were working hard for something," she said.
If I felt good returning from VA, I felt even better leaving the gym that day when seven days after my trip, the reality of the hard work needed for the next goal has set in.
When my dad was alive and was threatening one of us about one thing or another (who really remembers why parents are so agitated?), he would say, "Okay, I can show you better than I can tell you."
How thoroughly appropriate that seems right now.
Stay tuned,
KS
I also didn't want the curious, but judgmental questions that come from people not so close to me; "What are you doing, trying to win Wimbledon?", "How much did it cost to do that?", or "What are you doing that for?"
There are only so many times I can roll my eyes and answer, "Cuz!"
Back to the article.
It was a column written by Rochelle Riley that appeared in the Detroit Free Press. Riley spoke about how sharing her dreams as a young woman left her vulnerable to criticism. She spoke of a writer who was a friend of hers who wrote, "Sometimes, the only way to become what you were meant to be is to hide your dreams in your heart."
My husband often tells me, he fully expects to come home one day only to find out that I have accepted a job in another state doing something he had no idea I was interested in and my response to his jaw dropped to the floor will be, "Didn't I tell you?"
I think some of it, like the failure to fully disclose the details of my VA trip to everyone is by design, but some of it, lately, is the ability to focus so completely on the things I want to achieve.
I told the manager of the gym where I work out about my moderate success in VA. And I started to say, apologetically, like I have to so many people, "I would have told you beforehand, but..."
She stopped me and hugged me. And told me how proud she was of me and how she knew this was going to be my year. She's seen me sweating through sprints on the treadmill when the doors of the gym open in the AM. She's seen me waiting my turn at the squat station among guys whose pecs are so broad their arms rest at 45 degree angles. She's waved by to me on her way out, leaving me to my cardio and the night manager to his vacuuming. "I knew you were working hard for something," she said.
If I felt good returning from VA, I felt even better leaving the gym that day when seven days after my trip, the reality of the hard work needed for the next goal has set in.
When my dad was alive and was threatening one of us about one thing or another (who really remembers why parents are so agitated?), he would say, "Okay, I can show you better than I can tell you."
How thoroughly appropriate that seems right now.
Stay tuned,
KS
Friday, May 3, 2013
Inspirational Sport Quote...
In my mind, I'm always the best. If I walk out on the court and I think the next person is better, I've already lost. -Venus Williams
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National Senior Women's Tennis Association Championships, Alexandria, VA
Third place!
I worked hard for my first national tournament of the year. I ran when I didn't feel like it. I stretched when I didn't have time to. I lifted weights when I wanted nothing else but to take a nap. I played tennis. And I played tennis. And, OMG, I played tennis.
I played at match plays and at junior clinics and adult clinics. I set up matches. When I couldn't find a match, I was on the ball machine.
For hours...
I can't imagine working any harder.
I thought, if I worked as hard as I possibly can on the things I can control and relax about the things I can't, I would be okay.
I couldn't control the fact that I live in Michigan who didn't have a single day of good weather for me to get a feel for outside tennis before I embarked on my trip to VA. I couldn't control the fact that most places with clay around here won't open until Memorial Day. I couldn't control the fact that usually I am beyond my spring asthma/allergy/bronchitis flare up by this point, but because of the prolonged cold winter, I fully expected my spring "symptoms" to materialize at any moment like that zit that likes to pop up the day before picture day.
I had a tense week with the husband before leaving. He knows me well and kept saying, I think you are thinking too much about your tournament. Relax.
I didn't tell any of my friends about the tournament because I felt ready. And it's weird, but I felt like saying that I knew that I was playing good tennis and saying that I was doing all the right things would somehow jinx me. I was scared to fail after telling everyone, "I am playing the best I have ever played right now." So, I didn't say anything. I just want to do it.
My first match at the Belle Haven Country Club in Alexandria, VA went on thirty minutes late. Sometimes that works for me and sometimes it works against me. The jury is still out on how that affected me. It was an afternoon match and instead of getting up early to hit, I slept in a bit and took my time getting to the club. I am usually in tune with my body and I just felt I had done enough and I needed to relax.
When I got on court, still having not been outside to hit or on clay, I felt okay. The warm up against my lefty opponent was uneventful, except for a brief thought that I should have hooked up with my lefty pal, Sarah, before I left and played out some points.
The match started and I think I blinked or sneezed or something but somehow I found myself down 0-5 in a matter of minutes. I do remember early, altering my game plan. I didn't want to power hit against this strong player, but I could not move. I couldn't be consistent. I couldn't get a serve in. Or a return in. I was missing out calls. Playing balls that were a foot or two out.
I couldn't believe all the hard work was coming down to this, a first round loss. I had done that plenty of times with a lot less pre-tournament work. I could have cried.
I looked at my mom.
And then I relaxed. Later, she told me, she was praying that I relaxed before I got too discouraged. She said she just felt once I got acclimated to my surroundings, I would be okay.
I quickly toweled off, drank a little water and went to collect the balls to serve that sixth game. My first serve was a nice serve with a lot or spin that felt confident. My opponent missed the ball long. I held at 40-luv and then broke her serve. I lost the eighth game, but I knew I had her.
2-6, 6-2, 6-1.
It was one of the best matches of my tennis life. It is one thing to tell yourself you can come back from a deficit, but to actually do it, is a different matter. To first gather myself after the first set loss and to tell myself that I was going to win the second set. And then to tell myself, I was going to win the third set. It took a self-belief that I didn't know I had.
This was the first major tournament where I managed to stay in the main draw the entire time, losing in the semi-finals to the number one seed.
But it was that first match that set the stage. It was the first match that I am looking to revisit in my head when I need a boost on the court in the future. I think it's important to have tennis memories, memories that you can pull out as reference in appropriate times, so your mind and body both know, I've been here before and I prevailed.
And I have an awesome one from my trip to VA.
Stay tuned,
KS.
I worked hard for my first national tournament of the year. I ran when I didn't feel like it. I stretched when I didn't have time to. I lifted weights when I wanted nothing else but to take a nap. I played tennis. And I played tennis. And, OMG, I played tennis.
I played at match plays and at junior clinics and adult clinics. I set up matches. When I couldn't find a match, I was on the ball machine.
For hours...
I can't imagine working any harder.
I thought, if I worked as hard as I possibly can on the things I can control and relax about the things I can't, I would be okay.
I couldn't control the fact that I live in Michigan who didn't have a single day of good weather for me to get a feel for outside tennis before I embarked on my trip to VA. I couldn't control the fact that most places with clay around here won't open until Memorial Day. I couldn't control the fact that usually I am beyond my spring asthma/allergy/bronchitis flare up by this point, but because of the prolonged cold winter, I fully expected my spring "symptoms" to materialize at any moment like that zit that likes to pop up the day before picture day.
I had a tense week with the husband before leaving. He knows me well and kept saying, I think you are thinking too much about your tournament. Relax.
I didn't tell any of my friends about the tournament because I felt ready. And it's weird, but I felt like saying that I knew that I was playing good tennis and saying that I was doing all the right things would somehow jinx me. I was scared to fail after telling everyone, "I am playing the best I have ever played right now." So, I didn't say anything. I just want to do it.
My first match at the Belle Haven Country Club in Alexandria, VA went on thirty minutes late. Sometimes that works for me and sometimes it works against me. The jury is still out on how that affected me. It was an afternoon match and instead of getting up early to hit, I slept in a bit and took my time getting to the club. I am usually in tune with my body and I just felt I had done enough and I needed to relax.
When I got on court, still having not been outside to hit or on clay, I felt okay. The warm up against my lefty opponent was uneventful, except for a brief thought that I should have hooked up with my lefty pal, Sarah, before I left and played out some points.
The match started and I think I blinked or sneezed or something but somehow I found myself down 0-5 in a matter of minutes. I do remember early, altering my game plan. I didn't want to power hit against this strong player, but I could not move. I couldn't be consistent. I couldn't get a serve in. Or a return in. I was missing out calls. Playing balls that were a foot or two out.
I couldn't believe all the hard work was coming down to this, a first round loss. I had done that plenty of times with a lot less pre-tournament work. I could have cried.
I looked at my mom.
And then I relaxed. Later, she told me, she was praying that I relaxed before I got too discouraged. She said she just felt once I got acclimated to my surroundings, I would be okay.
I quickly toweled off, drank a little water and went to collect the balls to serve that sixth game. My first serve was a nice serve with a lot or spin that felt confident. My opponent missed the ball long. I held at 40-luv and then broke her serve. I lost the eighth game, but I knew I had her.
2-6, 6-2, 6-1.
It was one of the best matches of my tennis life. It is one thing to tell yourself you can come back from a deficit, but to actually do it, is a different matter. To first gather myself after the first set loss and to tell myself that I was going to win the second set. And then to tell myself, I was going to win the third set. It took a self-belief that I didn't know I had.
This was the first major tournament where I managed to stay in the main draw the entire time, losing in the semi-finals to the number one seed.
But it was that first match that set the stage. It was the first match that I am looking to revisit in my head when I need a boost on the court in the future. I think it's important to have tennis memories, memories that you can pull out as reference in appropriate times, so your mind and body both know, I've been here before and I prevailed.
And I have an awesome one from my trip to VA.
Stay tuned,
KS.
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