At the club yesterday there was a woman who must have been in her seventies, who played a fairly fast (though unbalanced) game. She liked to talk some shit against my lucky shots, which was pretty funny, cause otherwise she’s a sweet old lady with a slight British accent. I was also matched up against Barry, a paraplegic who was kicking my ass in his wheelchair, after having played two hours of wheelchair tennis. He plays much faster and more aggressively than me, and can place his shots with amazing precision. It’s really helping me work on my forehand to backhand returns.
I’m getting my abs back, especially the obliques. My right arm is roughly an inch bigger than the left now. I’m thinking that it’s all the weight transfer that needs to be done when smashing, especially against Dan. He’s like an artist on the court, aware of all variables involved in a single hit, able to make the ball do whatever he wants. It’s a pleasure to watch him play.