I actually struggled to write this week’s blog.
Not because there wasn’t tennis to talk about—but because sometimes sport has a way of getting under your skin more than you expect it to.
This week brought another league match, and unfortunately, we lost both matches. The frustrating part is that I genuinely don’t think we played badly at all. In fact, walking off court, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what went wrong, which somehow made it even more difficult to process.
What disappointed me most wasn’t necessarily the result—it was my reaction to losing. I hate the feeling of letting people down, especially the team, and I probably carried that heavier than I should have.
The teams we played against were experienced and incredibly solid. They played a very defensive style of tennis, and we struggled to find comfortable attacking returns against them. Too often, we ended up hitting average balls back into play, and at that level, those are the shots that get punished. It was one of those matches where you realise how important patience, positioning, and shot selection really are.
But even in difficult matches, there were positives.
My serve felt good again, which continues to feel like progress after all the rebuilding work I’ve put into it. Our movement around the court worked well too, and perhaps most importantly—it was genuinely lovely to play alongside my tennis bestie. There’s something reassuring about sharing the ups and downs with someone who completely understands them.
If I’m honest, though, the frustration followed me off court and into the next few sessions. I found myself overthinking shots, dwelling on mistakes, and carrying that disappointment into practice.
Thankfully, tennis also has a habit of pulling you back out of those moments.
My husband came along to Friday morning tennis with me, and having him there was exactly the distraction I needed. Instead of focusing on everything I thought I’d done wrong, I found myself laughing, chatting, and just enjoying being on court again.
Then cardio tennis worked its magic too. Somehow running around hitting tennis balls while mildly out of breath has become one of the best mood boosters I know.
A couple of sessions with my sons helped as well. Playing with them reminds me why I started this whole journey in the first place. Not for league tables or results—but because I genuinely love the game, the challenge, and the people.
So yes… I’ve moved on.
I think