The old girl and the sea

Tennis players on vacation

The relationship between tennis players and vacation is a dysfunctional one. You may wonder why. I’m glad you asked.

The tennis season is a long one. It lasts from January to the middle of November and around the US Open in September is when it starts to feel like a never-ending one. It doesn’t matter how much you love what you do, it’s just a natural development of the psyche when the body gets tired. The unity of body, mind and soul disrupted by that damned physical entity which strangely and inexplicably can’t go full steam ahead all day every day.

The Novaks, Serenas and Rogers of this world may be able to adjust their schedules to their bodies, the reality is, however, that the majority of players have to play tournaments most weeks. Not every week but most weeks. It’s either defending-points-season or gaining-points-season or hoping-to-turn things-around season. You play, you chase, you hustle and one day you look around and you’ve been treading in place this whole time. It’s part of the deal with the devil. You get money, fortune and fame in return for joints, muscles and ligaments. Why do you think Satan looks so fit?

the old girl and the sea

For me, having the pressure of performing week in week out weighing on my mind, escaping was imagining I was somewhere by the sea, looking into the soothing waves of a big body of water, cocktail in hand, far away from anything tennis. It would keep me going through the last two months of the season. I have never internally retired more often than at one of the last tournaments of the year just to internally un-retire myself a mere week later when realising I had just been really, really tired. People do crazy things when they are exhausted.

The reason why I say the relationship between a tennis player and vacation is a dysfunctional one is: the moment we actually are on vacation we feel completely and utterly overwhelmed by the lack of structure. You may have yearned for the few weeks of doing nothing but when they have finally arrived you are helpless in the face of it. For athletes, a body in motion is a healthy body. Who rests rusts. Like a car in the garage that is not being driven. You can’t wait for the day when you finally won’t have to work out but the moment you don’t work out your body immediately falls apart . The adrenaline missing, the muscles yearning, the bones screeching, the tendons stiffening. So, you wake up, do some exercises, go for a run and think to yourself: This is this vacation everyone is talking about? Bloody hell.

Another thing is food. During the season you can practically eat as much as you want because you burn so many calories. But in order to upkeep recovery speed and support physical functions, you eat healthily. No alcohol, no refined sugar, very little red meat. You avoid the pastries in Paris, the banana bread in Melbourne, the donuts in New York and basically anything England offers but that, to be honest, is just everybody. Vacation begins, you’re free at last, free to eat all the chocolate cake in the world which you do the first few days, the beer tastes good, too, and on day 3 you notice how bloated you are, how round your face has become and you start to worry because now you are no longer burning a million calories a day, no, now you’re a normal person, the regular kind, a moment on the lips forever on the hips - hahaha. You can’t let go after all. It was all a lie, everyone lied to you, most of all you lied to you; in those day dreams when the season feels never-ending and you imagine yourself by the sea, cocktail in hand, pavlova on its way, sun setting in a million boring colours. Ugh.

healthy AND good, my kind of meal

To be fair, I couldn’t care less how a body looks like aesthetically, chubby or skinny, plump or gaunt, buff or wobbly. The more diverse, the better. As a professional athlete, though, your body is your tool that needs to be kept in shape. I wrote about it here: Bodies, bodies, bodies.

I will admit that this is a very personal account and most likely everyone else in tennis is just enjoying every single minute of their well-earned vacation days. I will also admit that I’m a tad neurotic and the only legitimate fear I have is losing control. There is a reason I live in New York now, read Philip Roth a lot and found Woody Allen movies charming (before he got cancelled). A cliché is a cliché for a reason. And maybe, taking all of this into account, maybe, I should have said the relationship between Andrea and vacation is a dysfunctional one. Toxic like cherry pits.

Hey, we’re working on it. This newsletter comes to you straight from a Greek island where the only car they have is an ambulance and Leonard Cohen used to play guitar in a courtyard. I even had pastry this morning. Yes, I left first last night before everyone else did, because I value my eight hours of sleep and I’m on a deadline for my newsletter and a third martini will give me a headache right behind my right eyebrow, and… I guess, I’m doing it all wrong again. Somebody please help me relax. In interviews sometimes, journalists ask me if I have a motto I live by. I usually say 24 hour//full power. It rhymes and is almost as good as who rests rusts. I’m thinking of changing it into: 8 hours//full powers, 16 hours//margarita towers. I’m still workshopping it.

I have five days left to find my inner peace.

Things that make me happy:

This is one of the first times in my life that I am able to go on vacation with friends and it’s the best. Usually, people go on vacation in summer not in November like the weirdo tennis players do. So, this has been a very welcoming change for me. Definitely a perk in being retired.

me and all my friends LOL

Things that make me unhappy:

Honestly, very little right now. Time to get back to work!

I hope this finds you well and rested and maybe even on a summer holiday, smelling of Nivea sunscreen and peaches. What’s your summertime read this year? I am about to dive into Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Yours truly, Andrea