Too much badminton... or bedminton?

My handsome brother-in-law, Jojo Bailon, rang me up. "Hey I heard what happened to you," he said. "That is either from too much badminton or too much bedminton," he teased. "Guilty, guilty ," I replied and he laughed. He must have been thinking how clumsy I was to have been injured. His lovely wife Tess has been an excellent badminton player for over 20 years and she has never been injured.

I woke up one morning and couldn’t get up. Claude had to pull me up and hold me till I could stand. I dragged myself to the bathroom. I could not sit for long and so I stayed in bed all day and remained in one position for as long as I could. I was scared shit that I broke some bones because the pain persisted for four days. I went to see a bone specialist, Dr. Jun Tranquilino, who sent me for six x-rays of my hip, side and knees. All x-rays were normal so he gave me medicine and told me not to play badminton for days. Jojo was right.

But I thought I had good stamina. I have always been very confident of that. When Claude and I trekked to Mount Pinatubo, friends were concerned that my "chicken legs" would not endure all the hiking. We hiked for three hours to the top and swam in the crater. While most hikers usually stay overnight, we walked down for a good two hours right after that. No resting nor stopping on the way down. And when we reached Clark, my sister-in-law Carmen welcomed us. A "walk in the park," I told her when she asked. I still remember what she said "Kayabang mo." "But I am very, very hungry," I complained. "Okay, steak and wine on me, your reward for conquering Pinatubo," she said. I finished two T-bone steaks and Claude had two rib eyes and a burger at her Four Seasons. Don’t get shocked, the steaks as always were tenderly good and perfectly grilled so it was easy to gobble them up.

And I am blessed with a very strong back. I am very confident about that while Claude’s back is weak from a freak accident years ago. During our honeymoon, I lifted and dragged our two big suitcases from the 2nd floor on the stairway, while he followed me with one paper bag in each hand. I was Tarzan and he was Jane. An amused lady tourist even took a photo of us. But you do not and should not fight while on your honeymoon. The only couple I know who did, parted ways at the airport and never saw each other again. So I kept quiet and lovingly carried my darleng’s shopping. My back did not disappoint me.

But despite my stamina and good back, I didn’t play any sport because of lack of coordination. My only exercise, taebo, became so boring that I stopped over two years ago. Occasionally, I run around the block or brisk walk for an hour. But it is as irregular as my mood. One day, my dear friend XL suggested we try badminton so we could do an exercise together. And I thought, "ya, why not badminton? It is going to be easy with its light racket and feathered shuttlecock." I heard even "loose women," (women with "loose" tummies and arms) can play badminton so what more someone with great stamina and good bones." Readily I booked us a trainer at the Friendship Court.

But alas, I spent the whole hour figuring out how to hold my racket and when to hit the shuttlecock. Sai, our morena-beauty trainer, most probably was saying to herself, "God what did I do to be punished with a student like this?" She approached me and dropped the shuttlecock right in front of me. I missed it. Five times, she did so and five times I missed it. In frustration, she told me to drop the shuttlecock with my left hand and to hit it with my racket on the right hand. Ten times, I did so and 10 times, I missed it.

Nico tried to help. But he was so distressed that he brutally suggested I try golf instead. "You can take forever to hit the golf ball, unlike in other ball sports you have to react fast as the ball comes to you. And that is where your problem begins," he said. "You panic and look so awkward." He might be right. And maybe this is why I didn’t learn tennis and basketball either.

But then I could not afford golf so I reluctantly stayed with badminton. XL ridiculed me. Carol killed my every serve. Nico gave up on me. But after three lessons with Sai, I was able to volley the shuttlecock back and master some footwork. I was ecstatic that I could play! I got excited and bought more nice outfits. The first time I smashed a "kill," I was delirious! And when I tasted my first victory, I naturally got addicted to the game. I even took my racket to bed with me and announced to dear hubby I was heading for the Olympics. I played till I had bruises, muscle pains and my brittle bones almost cracked. I did not know when to stop.

I forgot that at 46, I am no longer a spring chicken! Now recuperating and remembering Desiderata, I gracefully surrender the things of youth. There will always be some greater and lesser players than myself. You can tell people’s character by the way they play. Some are aggressive, some are full of trickery, some are cheerful and some strive to be happy. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all players. Like everything in life, you must know when to hit hard, when to be gentle, when to give in and when to merely stop. And if beyond a wholesome discipline, you still cannot play well, be gentle with yourself; wear very nice matching outfits and just display. Even the dull and ignorant have the right to play. You may not win a trophy but you could become Miss Congeniality or the badminton muse. For God gave us all different talents. Be at peace with that.

Very soon, I shall be back in court, to play or just display. Sorry, handsome Jojo, I cannot talk about bedminton; it will put Claude and me in a very difficult position.