Tennis

I joined a tennis clinic at Hunter College that meets on Mondays from 9pm-10pm.

The instructors are Zen in their approach, so my team went with Zen Doctors as our official team name. It's a beginner class, so I'm thankfully above the curve--but not by nearly enough to balance out the hundreds of rupees my grand dad spent on tennis lessons on me as a child in India.

For someone who played in high school, I've fallen. Though, much like riding a bike the basics come back even if the better part of a decade has gone by since I last picked up my Prince racket. Bits of fabric fell from the handle with each shot I took, reminding me that like old paper, my racket had fallen out of use and was falling apart...I don't think I'm going to invest in a new one since the strings are still perfectly taut--I will get the handle re-wrapped since it's a disgrace that currently leaves black, rubbery residue every time I change grips.