Second Serve: Finding Tennis After Cancer

Nearly one year after beginning treatment at Baylor Sammons Cancer Center, I received the news that I was cancer-free. Dr. Stringer hugged me before saying, “It’s a miracle you survived.” Being alive felt like being given a second chance at everything. I graduated from Le Cordon Bleu the following year, then began reviewing restaurants for a local newspaper. I also launched a small cheesecake business after discovering an unexpected love for baking.

In 2017, I finally stepped onto a tennis court. I began with weekly drills and lessons under coach Fort Battad. My body, which had been through so much trauma, was moving again - reaching, stretching, making contact with the ball. Rather than focus on immediate results, I learned to embrace the learning process. I stopped comparing myself to others and started celebrating small victories - successfully landing a serve or hitting a backhand volley.

Working within a budget, I discovered that group drills offered valuable instruction at a more affordable rate than private lessons. During these sessions, teaching pros provided continuous feedback that felt like receiving a private lesson for half the cost. I realized that I didn’t have to be wealthy to improve my game. What mattered most was consistency and a willingness to learn - qualities that don't come with a price tag.

After developing a solid foundation, I started as a United States Tennis Association (USTA) computer-rated 3.0 player. I moved up one level each year until reaching a 4.5 rating in 2023. Every milestone brought new challenges and opportunities for growth. I measured progress against yesterday's version of myself, watching techniques that once seemed impossible slowly become familiar through practice.

Tennis demands as much from your mind as it does from your body. When I started playing singles tournaments, my mental game was so fragile I could barely speak. During matches, I only called scores and occasionally whispered "good shot." Many opponents assumed this was a strategy, but in reality, I was terrified. This feeling pushed me to start reading books on the mental aspect of competing.

"The Inner Game of Tennis" by W. Timothy Gallwey marked a turning point. After reading this book several times, I learned to trust muscle memory and gradually found calm during competition. Understanding my mental game became the difference between playing with fear and playing with freedom. While younger players might have more speed and power, mental toughness became one of my most valuable assets.

Meeting my doubles partner, Savannah Bryson, has been a life-changing experience. Despite never having played together before our first nationals match, we connected instantly on the court as left-handed players. There was an unexpected chemistry between us that felt natural from the first point. Together, we went on to win three consecutive NTRP National Championships in the 18+ age division. In 2024, I had the opportunity to compete with a different partner, placing second in the 4.5 division. This April, Savannah and I reunited and fought our way to the finals, placing second after an intense three-set match against Intermountain.

One of the greatest gifts from tennis has been the community. I thought my circle of friends was complete with connections from high school and college, but I was mistaken. The tennis community welcomed me with open arms, bringing countless new friendships into my life. These people became sources of inspiration, understanding the joy of winning, the frustration of defeat and the drive to develop new skills.

For those inspired to start playing tennis later in life, remember to be patient with yourself and enjoy the journey. Connect with players at your level through USTA leagues or local clubs. Finding a consistent hitting partner at a slightly higher level will also elevate your game. Most importantly, celebrate improvement. Every time you play presents an opportunity for growth, regardless of your age or skill level.

Cancer taught me to take life one day at a time, while tennis showed me how those days can add up to something meaningful. When stepping onto the court now, I carry the knowledge that age truly is just a number. What matters most is having the courage to begin something new and the determination to push beyond what seems impossible.