Back on Court
I'm finally back on court and doing physical.  It's been some week alright--starting off slow and largely stressful for a host of reasons (injuries, staying possibilities, and the general task of tuning my body back to training).  It helped that the coaches were understanding and patient about the recovery process, and it involved more than a few tears and being put on a diet to expedite the healing process.

Food wise, life was restricted to organic produce--no simple sugars, no sauces, no processed, deep or pan fried foods.  Only lots of multigrains, brown rice, pasta, lemons, vegetables, fruits, clear soups and water.  It's no fun eating pasta sprinkled in lemon juice (the teeth get a little edgy)--but still, it's moments like this I'm thankful dad raised us up very organic.  His tirades against soya sauce and ajinomoto have helped me develop a natural, holy love for all things whole and healthy.  I still miss mee pok and hae mee (prawn noodles), but am happy with the food we get here.  By far it's not tasty or delectably finger-smacking, but it is mostly very heavy and healthy.  None of the processed fishballs, chee kueh or simple-carbed chee chong fun we get back home.  A tomato is a tomato, a chicken leg is a chicken leg.  That's about it, really.  And no complaining because it helps you crap on time, and that's something everyone needs here.  Hahahahah.

What I am thankful for is how faithful God has been through this trying time.  I was hit by horrible bouts of home-sickness during the week--I think largely sparked off by the very real possibility that I might be staying here for much longer than I expected.  Wonderful news from the tennis front!!  The coaches seem to like me and so much of my game has improved thus far in just one short month.  But the week-long lay-off, Sunday's late-night fright and the stress of injury recovery played out a melody of strain I hadn't prepared myself mentally (or emotionally) for.  And it was all welling up.

It was particularly bad on Tuesday, when my hamstring started to feel pain again after morning fitness.  I was angry at Roman (the angsty fitness coach) for making me join the main group that morning instead of letting me ease back into the weight of physical training.  I had done a full evening session with Kapi the day before, with a series of exercises to test out the leg.  Roman was there to see it all happen, and accussed me the next morning for slacking off on the rowing machine instead of joining the group for the daily morning run.  "If you could do it then, why aren't you joining the rest of the girls, Sarah?" I didn't like the ice in his voice, or the insinuatory way he stressed "if you could do it then".  Truth be told, my right deltoid was still hurting, my legs were feeling cold, and I didn't want to shock-stress them with a pounding morning run when I'd done a full work out less than 24 hours earlier.  "Stupid ass," I thought to myself, as I looked at his hunched back, accusing eyes.  But it was difficult saying no.  "Sure, if you think I can take it, I'll join the group", I forced out a smile as I got off the rowing machine.   We did legs again that morning and the pain came back

As I felt it, I also felt anger and frustration rising.  "Why the hell did I listen to him?  Why couldn't I just stand up and say 'No'??"  The pain wasn't as bad or sharp or piercing as it was when I first got it, but it was there.  Small, tight, slight, but oh so present.  Predictably, Nacho told me "NO tennis" for the day, and the more I focussed on the inevitable disappointment, the thinner and more stretched I felt.  The tears were welling in my eyes, my breathing was getting short, and I had to blame someone.  Quick, throw it out, lash out.  "Damn you, Roman, damn you." I thought to myself, lashing out at the man with all the honest inner vengeance I could muster.  As I seethed in the blame game, held it tight in my chest, there came bleeding in another underlying train of thought.  "Damn him." -Wait a minute.-  "No, damn him!" -Wait...- "DAMN HIM!!" -Am I sure.?- Why was I so eager?  Was it not really him but actually... damn me?  Damn him or me?  Why do I feel a little guilty blaming him?  Fine, I feel guilty.  Why?  Dammit, what's wrong, Sarah?  What's wrong??  Make up your mind! The questions kept swirling in my mind, turning and upturning themselves in a maddening vortex. 

Lord, I need you here.

And just like that, the thought came true and sudden, like a tired sigh.

I went back to my room, plugged in my ipod, and listened to Hillsongs.  The guilt and anger got stuffed under the rug as I took out my bible and opened my daily devotional.  Take your eyes away from Roman, from trusting that he has the power to make or break your body.  Take your eyes away from trusting in man, and place your trust in Jesus, in His love for me.  As I read about Abraham building altars of worship to God (Genesis 12:7), about casting our cares on that altar that remind us of His love, goodness and faithfulness, new calm came seeping into my soul.  "You are my child, Sarah," was His voice.  "I am here with you, to take care of you, love you.  I'm here!" 

As I logged onto Skype after that to reconnect back home, God similarly moved loved ones and close friends I was thinking of, online.  With miraculously good internet connection, I spoke with five of them in my afternoon off.  I got listened to, loved and supported.  The last person I spoke with was my good friend from NUS, Calvin Xie who prayed for me over Skype.  It was an amazing prayer, filled with the life and the exact promptings that God had been filling my heart with during my quiet time.  Seriously, the power of prayer and the spoken word in faith is full of incredible power.  At the end of that afternoon, my lenses were adjusted, perspectives were refocussed, and my heart was filled with a supernatural love and joy in Jesus and His finished work.  Strangely, after my quiet time, the niggling pain in my right deltoid that had been bothering me for the whole week--had evaporated.  My left ham felt better, I didn't feel any more pain.  Praise God!!  He is indeed faithful, even when we are faithless.  When I went back to the gym that afternoon, instead of scowling at Roman, I couldn't help smiling back :)

The rest of the week only got better--fitness sessions with Kapi were fun fun fun.  On Wednesday we danced the rumba, salsa, tango and waltz (LOL seriously!), on Thursday played this insane three-personed game that involved person A throwing a ball against a wall, person B hopping over it after it bounced, and person C catching it before it touched ground again, all in quick succession!  On Friday we did running and footwork, and on Saturday wrapped the week off with an hour-long stretching session by the pool, in lovely 11am sun.

Court work also went ever-progressive with the coaches slowing the pace down for ball drills and being very, very patient.  The hamstring occassionally felt tight, but there was no more pain and I did all the footwork  effortlessly, with increasing pace as the days went by.  The week off seems to have done good to the footwork, because I can feel myself moving more cleanly on court.  I don't know how, but it's gotten easier getting into balance for most of my shots during the drills now--I can feel my legs stronger, more measured.  In a sense this gives me space to concentrate on my strokes now--which is great.  The next thing now is to keep improving my footwork, learning how to move faster, and translating that into actual game, rally-play, beyond just drills.  One thing that has also changed greatly this week is my serve motion, which has gone through an overhaul.  When I figure how to post up a vid on this blog, I'll be sure to show it off.  Hahahaha.

Look forward to more posts to come this week guys :)