Wednesday, September 21, 2011

I (heart) Racquetball

It is a ruckus.
It is a riot.
It is ridiculous.

I don't mean any harm to the reputation of the sport or the serious players out there. I was an avid tennis player for many, many years, so I can appreciate this sport. I quite enjoy it actually. It is my main reason for setting foot in the gym this week, but, Tuesday night was quite the hilarity and in my punch drunk state of mind, it occurred to me that racquetball is a lot like, *ahem* how do we say it "self-love."

Please, allow me to elaborate.

You see in self-love and in racquetball, there are quite a few similarities:

You can do it alone or with a partner(s).
But, if your partner doesn't know what they're doing, it might as well be an exercise in futility.
You can hit it hard or soft, fast or slow, but if you can't hit it right, you're just going to end up going aimlessly in circles.
Your focus and, usually your aim, is merely a spot on the wall.
Both can get rather hot and rather sweaty.
Both can leave you prone to wrist injuries and leave you with one arm stronger than the other.
The safety goggles they give you at the front desk? There's a reason. Oh yes, there IS a reason. There's really only one place that you can get hurt if you get hit. Yes, in the eye.
If you're not careful, there's always a chance of pulling a groin muscle.
It's such a simple concept, just hit it the right way, that it can make for hours, and hours, and hours of mindless fun.
Finally, the more you practice, well, the better you should get!


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