Thursday, September 10, 2015

Delicate Tennising and a Delicate Life

Some of you may know I recently took up tennis.  Tennis is a thing in Atlanta.  And by thing, I mean it's "a thing," like a thaaannng,  like people here really get into tennis.  Like REALLY.  In a way I don't fully understand but am learning to appreciate.  I mean, on paper it totally makes sense. You're outside, you're active, you're wearing adorable outfits, it seems on point.  Having survived (I use that term loosely) a summer of playing tennis here, let me tell you tennis players in Atlanta are insane.  It is hot.  Like too hot to be outside, let alone to be running around exerting yourself.  Like the level of insanity it takes to decide to play tennis in Atlanta summer heat is akin to Britney Spears head shaving mental breakdown insanity.  And I only play at night.  And let me go ahead and unpack that last sentence for you. I don't play, I attempt to make contact with the ball and hope it goes in the general vicinity of other side of my same court. It rarely does.  In the event that any of us (I "play" with friends) are able to make consecutive contact, we call it tennising.  As in, "YAY! We are tennising!" Tennis is now its own stand alone verb. You do not play tennis, you tennis.  I blame the heat for this blatant example of grammar appropriation.



I am rarely able to tennis.  While I generally enjoy being outside, I will never be good at tennis.  I'm like that kid that adults watch in little league and think "aww look at that little tyke, he's sure got spirit" as he's running the wrong way down the field.  And then scores on his own team.  Yup, that little tyke grown up is me.  This week at tennis, due to the heat (yes it is now Sept but still hot) I asked if we could do "delicate tennising." Aka, it's still too hot to overly exert myself, but I aspire to make consecutive contact.  Sadly, I'm still scared of being hit by the ball.  What can I say, flying balls scare me.  This likely heavily correlated with my dating woes.  Let's not even go there just yet...



Sidenote, tennis is one of those words the more you spell it the more you're absolutely convinced you're spelling it wrong and then Google "tennis" to make sure you're right even though you know you are. Does this happen to anyone else...? No...?  Moving on...  


While I cannot do delicate tennising, I am attempting to make a delicate life change beginning on Monday.  Starting Monday I am starting the Fit Girls Guide 28 day challenge.  A friend in Richmond turned me on to it and after a month of skeptical viewing (aka lurking on their insta... yes, I said insta not instragram, 'cause you know, I'm hip like that) I've decided I'm in.  It's like Tone It Up meets underage college girls who are obsessed with glitter, mermaids, and unicorns.  While it is slightly obnoxious in how cutesy it is, they provide a light workout plan for each day but more importantly meals, meal planning, meal prep instructions, grocery shopping lists, and essentially what you'd need to teach a 5th grader how to follow this plan.  And let's be real here folks, that's about my baseline of knowledge.  I had to Google how to make a baked potato.  #nojudgment #fakeout #judginglikewoah

So buckle up for this journey my friends.  I anticipate I will make it 3 days, fall off the wagon, get back on for about 5 days, be super sanctimonious about my amazing streak of commitment, and then slowly sneak in cheat treats and fade into the mist. As to how this affects you, I will only try to include updates about notable triumphs (bahah) and what I'm sure will be a series of epic cooking failures.  No worries, I've got a collage app on my phone so I can consolidate my cooking fail photos to showcase them at their best.

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