Squash

I have several older friends who swear by squash. I can appreciate their enthusiasm given the mental stimulation behind the game's physical requirements. A smaller court and slower moving, less elastic ball mean positioning and shot-taking held to a premium. This compares to racket ball, which I once loved and played with Moe at the Bay Club or with friends at Harmon Gym, where one's ability to wack the shit outta the rubber decisive. I think about this as I need a sport for my middle age. While I love running, the injuries and frustration ad up and the training required to remain fit prohibitive. So I will do the Berlin Marathon in September, enshallah, and then - what? I am investigating masters swimming and unlike twenty years ago there a plenty of options but I am also open to racket sports. They being more enjoyable then staring down at the lane-line. Been there, oh boy. The main object of any sport post 40 I might suggest is health and grace. Having a goal of some sort increases life's enjoyment - such an obvious statement that I think twice about putting it here. Yet most of our friends in London fail take up even the most basic form of exercise and looked shocked, shocked! when I describe my preparation for Berlin. This may be an extreme but there has to be a middle ground other than the couch and TV. My shot from one of the many courts at St Pauls.

Eitan: "spell I-CUP"
Me: "I, C, U, P"
Eitan: "Ha ha - you see me peeing!"

Eitan to Aggie: "what is that willifor on your head?
Aggie: "What is a williefor?"
Eitan: "Ha ha - you don't know what a willie is for?"

Sonnet: "Eitan. You. Stop. It. Right. Now."