wading my way back in
Yup yup yup. I waded, waddled and wobbled. I could call it any name I want but it’s the same. Considering the numerous half-plans, criss-crossing schedules and unsuccessful arrangements in the past, I finally faced my first badminton game after almost a year of missing it.
Maybe it’s Bert having had enough of my excuses. But he sent an invite for a Saturday game, and since I got weekend MBA classes, he invited me again for a Sunday game. And miracle of miracles, I resurrected my old trusty badminton racquet from the hat stand and decided at last to join him and Richard on a burning Sunday afternoon.
It was always my philosophy that looking good in court is half the way of winning. With that in mind, I took a long time searching for the rest of my old tops I've managed to push into the bottom of the dressers. And when I finally found them, much to my dismay I discovered I've outgrown them! Where did all the dieting go?
Impressed by the wonders of black for the bulges, I half-heartedly left the comforts of an airconditioned bedroom for the ambience of Shuttle Square.
The girls in the welcome counter were obviously surprised at my arrival. But one of them immediately made me at ease when she asked, just like she used to, if I wanted a bottle of orange Gatorade. I smiled at her.
The guys were at Court 6, I was informed. And walking my way to the game fanatics that I'm joining in this hot weekend afternoon, I looked at the players in the other courts. I did not know any one of them anymore. And I guessed half of them were good, the other half was just there for the fun.
That was how I approached my game ever since I took up badminton. I was there just for the fun! And so I'd disregard those pseudo-clinic exercises or warm-ups or even the necessary stretching before playing. Winning was simply a bonus. Just hit it back to the other court, run and work up a sweat, and have fun. Simple agenda.
But toddle to the court I went. What if I would hit the shuttle this time like a girl? Oh, these badminton maniacs would throw me out!
But my hand still knew my racquet. And my feet still can run, no matter how uncoordinated they were, because I refused to learn the footwork too. And by the time I responded with a good backhand, I was already happy. And having fun.
Two hours later and my comeback called for a celebration. Notwithstanding the purpose of losing weight, we three, plus Karl, went off to the nearest Starmart and ordered large servings of siomai. Cola and chips too.
That's when Richard reminded me of the time when I started to skip the games, and not being able to join them anymore. Well I had no apologies, because work got in the way. And besides, we already managed to watch a movie together last month. Who knows, with time permitting, I can even resume my game as well.
In silence, I remembered the project proposal I need to write, a project quarterly liquidation to prepare, an MBA financial case to analyze, an international trade fair to organize. The dance classes I've started and the "Tipping Point" book I've just bought. Yup yup yup, tough call indeed.
Oh, I don't know. I'm planning to buy a new racquet, actually. I want to play again and bet again where losers pay for dinner. Grrr, second winds may be hard to come by, but they're worth the waiting. I hope one has come for me.
