I Don’t Play Tennis…. How Can I have Tennis Elbow?!

Once upon a time, I had a friend I played tennis with. We used to go out a few times per year and re-learn on each occasion that we were quite terrible at the game. Even during our warm-up rallies, we consistently hit every ball over the fence. After we had fished them out of the bushes, we carefully selected the balls we liked the best, deluding ourselves that it would improve our game. Then off we went, playing our hearts out like it was the Wimbledon final.

Once we remembered how the scoring worked (how the word “love” makes it onto a scoreboard is still beyond me), we would slog through our game. Picture this: two middle-aged men running all over the court, sweating and swearing profusely, and occasionally managing a half-decent shot. Our serves (mostly into the net), our forehands (mostly bouncing well beyond the baseline), and the awkward-looking backhand (that never went anywhere but into the stratosphere) all had the coordination and grace of a newborn giraffe taking its first steps. We would have been embarrassed if we weren’t so mad at our rackets for hitting our shots in the wrong direction. Before long, we would end our tennis match exhausted, and yet strangely satisfied that we managed to hit the ball over the net enough times to complete a full game.

As the years went on with our tri-annual matches, we never suffered any worse injuries worse than the occasional blister on our feet. Despite our dismal fitness, not once did we ever get the eponymously-named Tennis Elbow. 

However, five years later I got a text from my former tennis buddy, saying, “I can’t believe it. I have lateral epicondylitis and it’s driving me nuts. WTF?! It’s been years since I swung a racket!”  [Read more…]