I haven’t followed up on the tennis lessons because there haven’t been many. We keep getting rained out. After three weeks of rain we finally got a dry lesson night this week and were able to resume. To make up for the lost weeks we decided to extend the duration of the remaining lessons until we get caught up. This seemed like a great idea when we all agreed but last night’s 90 minute session morphed into two hours. My arms was pretty dead by the time we left but it was fun.
The group started with seven students. We are now down to five. No idea why the two drop-outs quit. Surely it wasn’t my leg hair, right? Who knows. We have three women and two men remaining. So far everyone continues to be silent about my very visible body hair, or they continue to be discreet about it if they aren’t truly silent. As I approached the group last night I did catch one of the other women staring at my lower body. She looked away and then looked back, continuing to study. I couldn’t be sure if she was staring at my legs or examining my court shoes, which are brightly colored, multi-colored, and quite obnoxious. I admit to a stab of anxiety that it was my hairy legs but I just let the feeling come and then let it go.
I’m positive folks noticed my armpit hair this time because we learned how to serve. Lots of armpit exposure on the serve. Let’s go ahead and say full armpit exposure on the serve. And we watched each other serve, standing in close proximity. And I wore a tank. Nothing was said to me or within earshot of me. Comments among the group were more or less limited to encouraging each other, cheers when someone nailed a difficult drill, or asking questions. So far so good. So far so refreshing.
I have not looked closely enough at the legs of the other two women in class to determine whether or not they are shavers, because it shouldn’t/doesn’t matter. Our instructor is a woman. She’s from South Africa. I haven’t inspected her legs either, nor have I noticed the legs of the men. So there’s a fairly good chance no one has noticed my legs either and it has mattered just as little to them as to me. Or mattered not at all.
As for the tennis, Madame Instructor is very good at the sport now but she confessed it took her two years to win a match when she first started. So hairy or not we all have THAT to which we can look forward. But I mentioned to the group on the heels of this statement that if we are doomed to be losers for the next years at least it will be fun. Madame Instructor agreed, “Tennis is hugely fun.” Imagine it with a South African accent though. I swear it makes us more obedient when she tells us to change our grip or follow through.
In addition to the fun, she brought up calorie burn and fitness gains while we are losing. And the fact that sunshine and sweat is good for mental health while we are losing. And that tennis fights Alzheimer’s while we are losing. And meeting new people and making new friends is good for the soul while we are losing. Not a bad way to spend two years. I’m sure as hell not going to spend it obsessing over body hair.