I can't always describe to others the almost desperation I feel to succeed at things; why I can stay up until four in the am writing or why I can run in the morning every day even though I hate running... It starts with a goal.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Be NOT like Serena
I have to say, I was disappointed with Serena's performance during the 2011 US Open women's final. She's beginning to remind me of the diva-zilla stories you hear about stars demanding spring water from far away countries for their tea cup dogs to drink or demanding that every pregnant woman in a 10 mile vicinity donates their placentas so that she has shampoo for her performance wigs.
I hate whining. And that is exactly what Serena did when finding herself on the losing end of a match. Its the same thing she did in 2009 when again, she found herself losing.
Just play harder.
I understand how much Serena hates to lose. I remember a 2008 Wimbledon where she lost to Venus and had to play doubles with her later that day. To say things looked awkward on the doubles court is an understatement.
But, in the words of the guys from the Monday Night Football Pregame Show... C'MON MAN!
And it's not just Serena. Sadly, too many top Americans seem to be afflicted with the you-owe-me attitude. You can see where Serena can have that attitude. Television viewing for the women's draw was up more than 100 percent from last year where someone we never heard of beat someone else we don't remember in the final, which has been the case since the Williams' sisters have been MIA from the tour. But the others? Andy Roddick, James Blake, Donald Young, Ryan Harrison.
C'MON, MAN!
When characterizing American tennis players, do we really want crybaby and sore loser to be the first words that pop into our heads? Do we want to conjure images of someone so mentally fragile the whispers of a court side opponent makes them lose? Or someone whose winning game depends on a chair umpire and lines people scared to make calls?
While these guys are whining and taking their frustrations of losing out on lines people and reporters and the USTA, other people are simply working hard. Simply getting better. And simply learning from their losses.
Yes, Donald Young has seemed to mature. Yes, James Blake has mellowed. Not sure what to say about Andy... But young Harrison. Does acting like my six-year old nephew when he has missed his nap really help "geek" you up for games? Besides acting like an infant, you lose matches that you were often in control of.
Its to the point, I can't wait for the "old guys/girls" to retire. Let those like Christina McHale and John Isner and Jack Sock step up and prove that you can act classy like Venus Williams; losing graciously and winning with style.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Tennis Friends
During a officials clinic I recently attended, the instructor told us this story to help us understand about using our best judgement in individual cases;
She had been umpiring a National 80s event and two ladies who were engaged in a singles battle were taking an enormous amount of time on changeovers. For those of you who aren't aware, a player is allotted 90 seconds on the changeovers and 120 between sets. Evidently, these two were taking anywhere from 5 to 8 minutes. Before putting the clock on these two, the umpire went and checked the court schedule. Since there was no one scheduled to use the courts afterwards, the temperature in sunny California that day was peaking at 92 degrees and the sum of the age of the two competitors was a three digit number, the umpire let the ladies play at their own pace.
"These two ladies have probably been playing against each other for sixty years," the trainer said.
Sixty years?
Wow.
I think of all my opponents in tennis and hockey and soccer. And I think about how many times, I seriously think, my life will be so enhanced if I never played them again! Never saw them again. And God-willing, never see them do that annoying thing they do just before they (serve the ball/shoot the puck/dribble the ball).
But then I heard that story and I thought, how cool would that be? How cool would it be to sit and chat with someone you've played year after year until those years became decades? Obviously many things color a memory and help make them vivid. And I have to say, my opponents are sometimes the most colorful part of my memories. I can never purge my thoughts of the opponent who awards herself first serves after calling phantom lets. Or the team that we affectionately refer to as the "pod people" because of the way they always hit the court like someone has got a gun on them, forcing them to be there. I remember my longest doubles match ever, a match that was about as long as any singles match I've ever played. And I remember the opponents. It's been three years, I've never played them since, but every time I've seen them, we spend a good ten minutes "remembering" the points of that match.
As vivid as the memory is to me, relaying it to people who weren't on the court is not the same as reliving it with my opponents.
There are many things that I look forward to as a tennis player in search of my first of many gold balls in Adult and Senior national tournaments. Since hearing that story at my training class, I look forward to something else; fifty years from now, sitting in my chair on a changeover and reminiscing about matches played over the decades of history I have with my opponent.
Stay tunes,
KS
She had been umpiring a National 80s event and two ladies who were engaged in a singles battle were taking an enormous amount of time on changeovers. For those of you who aren't aware, a player is allotted 90 seconds on the changeovers and 120 between sets. Evidently, these two were taking anywhere from 5 to 8 minutes. Before putting the clock on these two, the umpire went and checked the court schedule. Since there was no one scheduled to use the courts afterwards, the temperature in sunny California that day was peaking at 92 degrees and the sum of the age of the two competitors was a three digit number, the umpire let the ladies play at their own pace.
"These two ladies have probably been playing against each other for sixty years," the trainer said.
Sixty years?
Wow.
I think of all my opponents in tennis and hockey and soccer. And I think about how many times, I seriously think, my life will be so enhanced if I never played them again! Never saw them again. And God-willing, never see them do that annoying thing they do just before they (serve the ball/shoot the puck/dribble the ball).
But then I heard that story and I thought, how cool would that be? How cool would it be to sit and chat with someone you've played year after year until those years became decades? Obviously many things color a memory and help make them vivid. And I have to say, my opponents are sometimes the most colorful part of my memories. I can never purge my thoughts of the opponent who awards herself first serves after calling phantom lets. Or the team that we affectionately refer to as the "pod people" because of the way they always hit the court like someone has got a gun on them, forcing them to be there. I remember my longest doubles match ever, a match that was about as long as any singles match I've ever played. And I remember the opponents. It's been three years, I've never played them since, but every time I've seen them, we spend a good ten minutes "remembering" the points of that match.
As vivid as the memory is to me, relaying it to people who weren't on the court is not the same as reliving it with my opponents.
There are many things that I look forward to as a tennis player in search of my first of many gold balls in Adult and Senior national tournaments. Since hearing that story at my training class, I look forward to something else; fifty years from now, sitting in my chair on a changeover and reminiscing about matches played over the decades of history I have with my opponent.
Stay tunes,
KS
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Adidas' 6-Month Outsole Guarantee
If you are as rough on your shoes as I am, you should totally take advantage of Adidas' 6-month outsole guarantee.
I happen to wear Adidas, so I am most familiar with their return policy, but other tennis shoes also offer a similar type of warranty.
My Adidas normally go from that great new shoe feel to holes in the soles in about four months. Because of my chronic foot problems, I have been more diligent about returning the shoes shortly after they began to break down rather than wait the full six months. By the time they get to the point that they have holes in them like the pictures above, I am able to feel the lack of support in my feet.
To take advantage of the Adidas guarantee, the wear on the shoe has to be on the outsole. You have to have the original receipt. And you have to pay the shipping costs for your replacement pair.
I have utilized this return policy for eight pairs of shoes so far and have received replacement pairs all eight times. There is some kind of evaluation process where Adidas could deny your claim, but I've never experienced a denial and my wear is very consistent with tennis movements.
Shoes have to be sent to:
Adidas 6-Month Outsole Guarantee
685 Cedar Crest Road
Spartansburg, SC 29304
This address is different from the address printed on the little card in some of the older Adidas tennis shoes. Evidently, the company changed warehouses and have yet to update some of their information.
Whenever I send my shoes back, I place them in the original box, with the original receipt and a check made out to "adidas" for $8.30. I usually receive my replacement pair in 2 to 3 weeks.
Stay tuned,
KS
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
2011
My new year's post is a little late...
After such an amazing, whirlwind 2010, I found myself in a "waiting room" of sorts when thinking about my future tennis plans. Sometimes, we make the mistake of stepping in the wrong direction when we are unsure of which direction to take. There's nothing wrong with standing still, taking a breath and waiting for a path to illuminate itself.
If you're like me, somewhat of a control-freak, this is difficult to do.
First I was bumped to 4.5, inevitable after my 2010, but in the same sense, it was like winning a championship and a week later, knowing that the process of becoming a champion; the work, the repetition, the long hours, all of that begins again.
Second, all of my friends are 3.5 and 4.0. The camaraderie, the support and the comfort that I found with teammates has pretty much been the same core of people for the entire decade that I've been playing. Pushing myself to be better now no longer simply means me calling my pals and playing until someone gets to hungry to continue. I will have to do more. I will have to play more. And I will have to broaden my circle of practice partners.
And though it makes sense that things would evolve, I never thought about it. I never thought about what that next step would be. One by one, my long time pals were pointing it out to me and I have to say, I felt like I was being pushed out of the nest.
One of my favorite quotes likens us to dinosaurs. Their failure to change and adapt led to their extinction and humans in their daily endeavors are no different.
But who wants to change really? Why? When habits and routines can be so comfortable, so predictable and so reliable and change can be scary and uncertain.
There was a time when everything I did in tennis was new. The first month I went to clinics at Peachtree Tennis Club, I didn't know anyone. I sucked at courtesy feeding the ball and EVERYONE knew it. I could hear the quiet groans, forced patience at the newbie whose wild and errant forehands would often leave 'WILSON' tattooed on your chest, but couldn't keep more than two consecutive balls in play.
Somewhere along the line, that became less knew and I sought other challenges.
And I started playing tournaments.
Again, the newness, the change.
There were years when ninety percent of my match scores were double bagels, 0-6, 0-6. For some reason, I hung in there, hoping to push through to that point where the newness dissipated.
This January when I began to look forward to the new year, I realized, the dust of newness had settled and the wrong turn could easily send me down the path toward "rut". And since I don't want to end up like our dear old friends, the dinosaurs, I chose the path for change, for improvement, for setting goals and achieving them.
This year, I am again, going to push myself beyond my comfort level.
My first goal is to win a main draw match in a National Open level tournament.
Stay tuned,
KS.
After such an amazing, whirlwind 2010, I found myself in a "waiting room" of sorts when thinking about my future tennis plans. Sometimes, we make the mistake of stepping in the wrong direction when we are unsure of which direction to take. There's nothing wrong with standing still, taking a breath and waiting for a path to illuminate itself.
If you're like me, somewhat of a control-freak, this is difficult to do.
First I was bumped to 4.5, inevitable after my 2010, but in the same sense, it was like winning a championship and a week later, knowing that the process of becoming a champion; the work, the repetition, the long hours, all of that begins again.
Second, all of my friends are 3.5 and 4.0. The camaraderie, the support and the comfort that I found with teammates has pretty much been the same core of people for the entire decade that I've been playing. Pushing myself to be better now no longer simply means me calling my pals and playing until someone gets to hungry to continue. I will have to do more. I will have to play more. And I will have to broaden my circle of practice partners.
And though it makes sense that things would evolve, I never thought about it. I never thought about what that next step would be. One by one, my long time pals were pointing it out to me and I have to say, I felt like I was being pushed out of the nest.
One of my favorite quotes likens us to dinosaurs. Their failure to change and adapt led to their extinction and humans in their daily endeavors are no different.
But who wants to change really? Why? When habits and routines can be so comfortable, so predictable and so reliable and change can be scary and uncertain.
There was a time when everything I did in tennis was new. The first month I went to clinics at Peachtree Tennis Club, I didn't know anyone. I sucked at courtesy feeding the ball and EVERYONE knew it. I could hear the quiet groans, forced patience at the newbie whose wild and errant forehands would often leave 'WILSON' tattooed on your chest, but couldn't keep more than two consecutive balls in play.
Somewhere along the line, that became less knew and I sought other challenges.
And I started playing tournaments.
Again, the newness, the change.
There were years when ninety percent of my match scores were double bagels, 0-6, 0-6. For some reason, I hung in there, hoping to push through to that point where the newness dissipated.
This January when I began to look forward to the new year, I realized, the dust of newness had settled and the wrong turn could easily send me down the path toward "rut". And since I don't want to end up like our dear old friends, the dinosaurs, I chose the path for change, for improvement, for setting goals and achieving them.
This year, I am again, going to push myself beyond my comfort level.
My first goal is to win a main draw match in a National Open level tournament.
Stay tuned,
KS.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
85 MATCHES LATER...
I was curious about a particular match I had played in the summer. I couldn't remember the scores, so I searched my record on the USTA website. As I was scrolling through numerous listings, I became curious; how many matches had I played?
Next Sunday will mark my last match of the year. It will be my 85th match of 2010.
All I can say is, wow.
This does not even include the matches I played for the suburban league, which is not recorded on the USTA site or all the ITA-sanctioned matches I played, matches where I endured swift beatdowns by college players in order to better prepare myself for the USTA summer season and the 30s tournaments.
85 matches.
My tournament year ended with the National 30s Clay Court Tournament in Fort Lauderdale, Florida the week after Thanksgiving. What a way to burn off some of that turkey, huh?
I had gone back and forth about going for a few months. Following my hectic August, I felt I needed a break. I wasn't exactly burnt out, but I could see myself going that way if I didn't do something to downshift. So, I didn't commit to any fall tennis; agreeing only to "sub" if I felt like it on a couple of teams. I threw myself into my ice hockey season and allowed myself to enjoy my teammates and practices and the fun of being in a locker room with a crazy group of women!
Slowly, I began to attend tennis clinics now and then, dropping in when time permitted and oftentimes when I just had no desire to actually go to the gym and work out.
The decision to go to the National Clay followed the death of my Uncle Johnnie. I didn't see him as much as I wanted to over the last year. Working and worrying about stupid things had preoccupied my time and I told myself with everything I've been neglecting, I will just do it later, do it tomorrow and do it next year.
Still, now, I don't know if there is a balance. I don't know if its possible to sacrifice time and enjoy the present, but I am definitely going to start trying.
At any cost, Florida was my best trip ever!
I was most concerned about playing an outdoor tournament when I have been in wonderfully cold Michigan where the last time I was outdoors playing was in October, which of course was the last time I was able to play on clay. I arrived two days before my first match and spent both days acclimating myself to the outdoors and the clay. I am proudest of how I dealt with the adjustment. It was almost seamless.
I was determined to go to Florida and work hard, but also enjoy it. And I can honestly say, I enjoyed the pre-tournament court time. I enjoyed watching the guys compete and other women in the draw. I met some cool people. I got a glimpse of my "class" of tennis players. Most of the women in the draw have been around 38 years of age. But this time, I got to see the future of the 30s, women like myself, on the younger side of 30s group, some of them playing their first or second 30s tournament. We talked and exchanged information and looked forward to seeing each other at the next tournament.
I am excited.
I got bumped out of the main draw of singles early and played poorly in the back draw despite a couple of wins. I also got bumped into the back draw of doubles with my partner, Chris from CA, another 30s newbie. But we made it to the consolation final where we won 6-0, 6-2. I also played the best tennis of the tournament there. Pretty good for someone whose favorite quote is "Oh, I suck at doubles."
I received a lot of compliments from pretty established players including a lady who is a teaching pro in Juniper, Florida. Chris and I played her in the second round of doubles and she told me she was amazed by my consistent second serve aces! Big props from a lady who was awesome in the doubles draw!
The clay nationals also marked the first time I'd been away from Mark for a whole week. (I'm a baby, I know.) But I missed him so much!
I came back fully expecting to be exhausted from the week, exhausted from the travel, exhausted from 85 tennis matches in 2010!
But here I am, eager to work harder, eager to hit the gym and looking forward to the first match of 2011. Here I am, number 8 in the nation in women's 30s singles, partial sponsorship from Adidas, Wilson Racquet ambassador. Pretty amazing for someone who just picked up a racquet 10 years ago and tried out for her college team.
85 matches.
Stay tuned,
KS
Next Sunday will mark my last match of the year. It will be my 85th match of 2010.
All I can say is, wow.
This does not even include the matches I played for the suburban league, which is not recorded on the USTA site or all the ITA-sanctioned matches I played, matches where I endured swift beatdowns by college players in order to better prepare myself for the USTA summer season and the 30s tournaments.
85 matches.
My tournament year ended with the National 30s Clay Court Tournament in Fort Lauderdale, Florida the week after Thanksgiving. What a way to burn off some of that turkey, huh?
I had gone back and forth about going for a few months. Following my hectic August, I felt I needed a break. I wasn't exactly burnt out, but I could see myself going that way if I didn't do something to downshift. So, I didn't commit to any fall tennis; agreeing only to "sub" if I felt like it on a couple of teams. I threw myself into my ice hockey season and allowed myself to enjoy my teammates and practices and the fun of being in a locker room with a crazy group of women!
Slowly, I began to attend tennis clinics now and then, dropping in when time permitted and oftentimes when I just had no desire to actually go to the gym and work out.
The decision to go to the National Clay followed the death of my Uncle Johnnie. I didn't see him as much as I wanted to over the last year. Working and worrying about stupid things had preoccupied my time and I told myself with everything I've been neglecting, I will just do it later, do it tomorrow and do it next year.
Still, now, I don't know if there is a balance. I don't know if its possible to sacrifice time and enjoy the present, but I am definitely going to start trying.
At any cost, Florida was my best trip ever!
I was most concerned about playing an outdoor tournament when I have been in wonderfully cold Michigan where the last time I was outdoors playing was in October, which of course was the last time I was able to play on clay. I arrived two days before my first match and spent both days acclimating myself to the outdoors and the clay. I am proudest of how I dealt with the adjustment. It was almost seamless.
I was determined to go to Florida and work hard, but also enjoy it. And I can honestly say, I enjoyed the pre-tournament court time. I enjoyed watching the guys compete and other women in the draw. I met some cool people. I got a glimpse of my "class" of tennis players. Most of the women in the draw have been around 38 years of age. But this time, I got to see the future of the 30s, women like myself, on the younger side of 30s group, some of them playing their first or second 30s tournament. We talked and exchanged information and looked forward to seeing each other at the next tournament.
I am excited.
I got bumped out of the main draw of singles early and played poorly in the back draw despite a couple of wins. I also got bumped into the back draw of doubles with my partner, Chris from CA, another 30s newbie. But we made it to the consolation final where we won 6-0, 6-2. I also played the best tennis of the tournament there. Pretty good for someone whose favorite quote is "Oh, I suck at doubles."
I received a lot of compliments from pretty established players including a lady who is a teaching pro in Juniper, Florida. Chris and I played her in the second round of doubles and she told me she was amazed by my consistent second serve aces! Big props from a lady who was awesome in the doubles draw!
The clay nationals also marked the first time I'd been away from Mark for a whole week. (I'm a baby, I know.) But I missed him so much!
I came back fully expecting to be exhausted from the week, exhausted from the travel, exhausted from 85 tennis matches in 2010!
But here I am, eager to work harder, eager to hit the gym and looking forward to the first match of 2011. Here I am, number 8 in the nation in women's 30s singles, partial sponsorship from Adidas, Wilson Racquet ambassador. Pretty amazing for someone who just picked up a racquet 10 years ago and tried out for her college team.
85 matches.
Stay tuned,
KS
Monday, November 1, 2010
Not Taking Life For Granted
Okay, so it's been awhile since I blogged.
I needed to take some time away from tennis. Not that I actually felt burnt out, but I could see it happening if I kept up at the insane pace I did this summer. I committed to very little tennis-wise and the things I did commit to, I did so under substitute circumstances. That way, if I did get to the point where I was rolling my eyes or groaning whenever I looked at my calendar and saw that there was tennis scheduled for that day.
And it worked. For the first time in a long time, I actually was very excited about my hockey season. I started running again, both to stay in shape and to outdo this guy from Denver who keeps popping up in all my Nike running challenges and talking trash. During this hiatus for tennis, I played now and then outside, trying to soak up the last few days of good Michigan weather. I attended a few tennis where my primary goal was laughing with my friends and seeing if I could hit a tweener or just how high I could launch a moonball. Thoughts about going to the next National 30s tournament, plans I was pretty committed to at the beginning of the summer, faded to the back of my mind.
I settled into a very needed routine, a balanced one. Getting up shortly after my boyfriend left for work. Running, alternating between long run days and sprint workouts at the local high school's track. (Not the very local high school because there's a conspiracy to keep the southern half of the township fat and lazy by denying them access to the track and tennis courts for exercise. But perhaps that topic deserves it's own post.) Cleaning the house and eating breakfast and then settling into an afternoon of writing.
The routine brought me much needed sanity and most of my life, especially lately, I think my whole life's purpose is to find the fountain of sanity. At any cost, for the first time, in a few years, things felt okay.
My uncle died this past Saturday. And although I just met him and the rest of my mom's family three years ago, I found myself as reflective as I was when I finally came to some sort of terms with my dad's death. I guess death causes you to think about things. The biggest thing I took from my own father's death is that I didn't want to wait for things. I wanted to do them or make them happen if there were obstacles in my way of doing them.
I write because I want to know that if I dropped dead tomorrow, I did so trying for something I always wanted to do. People say to me all the time, I've always wanted to write a book. When the kids grow up... When I get some time off of work... When I retire...
You've heard me say that my favorite quote is by George Eliot: "It's never too late to become what you might have been."
Well, that's why I play tennis despite picking up a racquet merely ten years ago. I am going to be that national champion that I could have been. Sure, it won't be as a college student. But I will win a national championship.
At any cost, I have decided that I am going to the Clay Court Nationals at the end of the month. Too many times, I focus so much on what is not going on with me, I fail to acknowledge the things that are going on; the support of Mark, the encouragement of friends, the extra time and attention so many people have shown me to help me realize my dreams.
And I think to myself, what am I waiting for?
Stay tuned...
KS
I needed to take some time away from tennis. Not that I actually felt burnt out, but I could see it happening if I kept up at the insane pace I did this summer. I committed to very little tennis-wise and the things I did commit to, I did so under substitute circumstances. That way, if I did get to the point where I was rolling my eyes or groaning whenever I looked at my calendar and saw that there was tennis scheduled for that day.
And it worked. For the first time in a long time, I actually was very excited about my hockey season. I started running again, both to stay in shape and to outdo this guy from Denver who keeps popping up in all my Nike running challenges and talking trash. During this hiatus for tennis, I played now and then outside, trying to soak up the last few days of good Michigan weather. I attended a few tennis where my primary goal was laughing with my friends and seeing if I could hit a tweener or just how high I could launch a moonball. Thoughts about going to the next National 30s tournament, plans I was pretty committed to at the beginning of the summer, faded to the back of my mind.
I settled into a very needed routine, a balanced one. Getting up shortly after my boyfriend left for work. Running, alternating between long run days and sprint workouts at the local high school's track. (Not the very local high school because there's a conspiracy to keep the southern half of the township fat and lazy by denying them access to the track and tennis courts for exercise. But perhaps that topic deserves it's own post.) Cleaning the house and eating breakfast and then settling into an afternoon of writing.
The routine brought me much needed sanity and most of my life, especially lately, I think my whole life's purpose is to find the fountain of sanity. At any cost, for the first time, in a few years, things felt okay.
My uncle died this past Saturday. And although I just met him and the rest of my mom's family three years ago, I found myself as reflective as I was when I finally came to some sort of terms with my dad's death. I guess death causes you to think about things. The biggest thing I took from my own father's death is that I didn't want to wait for things. I wanted to do them or make them happen if there were obstacles in my way of doing them.
I write because I want to know that if I dropped dead tomorrow, I did so trying for something I always wanted to do. People say to me all the time, I've always wanted to write a book. When the kids grow up... When I get some time off of work... When I retire...
You've heard me say that my favorite quote is by George Eliot: "It's never too late to become what you might have been."
Well, that's why I play tennis despite picking up a racquet merely ten years ago. I am going to be that national champion that I could have been. Sure, it won't be as a college student. But I will win a national championship.
At any cost, I have decided that I am going to the Clay Court Nationals at the end of the month. Too many times, I focus so much on what is not going on with me, I fail to acknowledge the things that are going on; the support of Mark, the encouragement of friends, the extra time and attention so many people have shown me to help me realize my dreams.
And I think to myself, what am I waiting for?
Stay tuned...
KS
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