The agony of defeat
Today is Sunday, which means -- of course -- that absolutely nothing is open. Well, practically nothing -- maybe a half dozen or so small grocery stores are open. Swiss people find this state of affairs perfectly normal and, I guess, find ways to entertain themselves that don't involve eating, buying or doing anything. As far as I can tell, they don't even stray from their homes. Here's a picture I took at 2:00 PM at "Place de la Palud," pretty much dead in the center of town.
Fig. 1: This town... is looking like a ghost town...
Under normal circumstances, I would probably take the train somewhere or go for a hike or something. Today, though, I am not planning on doing anything that might require moving or flexing any of my muscles. Why? Well, the simple answer is because I'm an idiot. Here's how it went down.
My officemate (Jens, the German) noticed that I had packed a pair of court shoes in my lugage (all of my lugage was in my office for a while). He asked me if I played badminton, which sure enough I did at one point in time, and suggested that we get together to play sometime. Even though I haven't actually touched a racquet in about five years and haven't played seriously in almost ten years, I figured that this would be a great way to get to know my new co-worker and also a chance to exercise a little. I've been so busy between work and finidng an apartment that I haven't even gone running since I've gotten here.
Jens mentioned that there was a "Badminton Club" somewhere in Malley (a suburb of Lausanne) and that we could rent a court there. Sounds great. One of our other labmates lives in Malley and gave us directions to the club ("it's not far from the metro stop, just go past the 'glass building'. Look for a sign that says 'Keops'") and after a quick check on the internet, we made a date for Saturday at 10 AM.
Yesterday at 9:55, I met Jens at the Malley metro stop. We saw the "glass building," and headed towards it. Once nearby, we saw these signs.
Fig. 2: Hey! There it is.
Fig. 3: We must be getting close!
Fig. 4: Almost there ...
Feeling fairly confident that we were indeed heading towards a badminton club of some sort, we followed the signs. Of course, they lead to a dead end where we encountered this building:
Fig. 5: Not big fans of the song "Bizarre Love Triangle," evidently.
Since we had no other leads to follow, we knocked on the door. Maybe it was a combination Illuminati/Badminton club. Oddly enough, there was no answer, so we snuck a peek inside and intuited from the piles of trash that the place had been taken over by vagrants some time ago. We retraced our steps to the "Keops Fitness Club" -- which exists independently of the "Keops Badminton/Squash Courts" -- and asked the woman at the desk what the deal was with the courts. It turns out that they had been closed more than 3 years ago, but no one had bothered to take down the signs. The site we had found on the internet belong to the other Malley badminton courts, which were a few blocks away.
A few minutes later, we found the "Malley Badminotn Club" and got ourselves a court for an hour. I probably should have been worried by the fact that Jens not only had his own racquets (they weren't his nice ones -- he'd left those in Germany) but he also had his own professional looking equipment bag. After warming up for a few minutes, Jens proceeded to kick the crap out of me for the remainder of the hour.
If you've ever played badminton before, then you know how much bending and lunging is involved. Especially if you're getting the tar beaten out of you, you tend to spend a lot of time reaching low for shots just out of your reach. After about a half hour, I could feel some soreness in my back. I figured it was no big deal -- I mean, I've played tons of badminton and I've never had anything worse than a little soreness -- and kept playing. For an hour or so after the beatdown, I felt pretty good. Endorphins rushed through my body and although I could feel some slight stiffness when I bent down to untie my shoes when I got home, I felt fine. I took a shower, got dressed, then had a light lunch. Then, it hit me.
I spent most of yesterday and today lying down or sitting still. I dropped a sock on the floor this morning getting dressed and just decided to go with one sock for a while. Now that more than twenty-four hours have elapsed since "the hurt," I finally have the strength to venture out of my apartment. Being old sucks.
Speaking of the apartment, it's really improved. I bought a plant at the supermarket the other day and I think it really brightens up the room.
Fig. 6: I call him "Basil."
Fig. 1: This town... is looking like a ghost town...Under normal circumstances, I would probably take the train somewhere or go for a hike or something. Today, though, I am not planning on doing anything that might require moving or flexing any of my muscles. Why? Well, the simple answer is because I'm an idiot. Here's how it went down.
My officemate (Jens, the German) noticed that I had packed a pair of court shoes in my lugage (all of my lugage was in my office for a while). He asked me if I played badminton, which sure enough I did at one point in time, and suggested that we get together to play sometime. Even though I haven't actually touched a racquet in about five years and haven't played seriously in almost ten years, I figured that this would be a great way to get to know my new co-worker and also a chance to exercise a little. I've been so busy between work and finidng an apartment that I haven't even gone running since I've gotten here.
Jens mentioned that there was a "Badminton Club" somewhere in Malley (a suburb of Lausanne) and that we could rent a court there. Sounds great. One of our other labmates lives in Malley and gave us directions to the club ("it's not far from the metro stop, just go past the 'glass building'. Look for a sign that says 'Keops'") and after a quick check on the internet, we made a date for Saturday at 10 AM.
Yesterday at 9:55, I met Jens at the Malley metro stop. We saw the "glass building," and headed towards it. Once nearby, we saw these signs.
Fig. 2: Hey! There it is.
Fig. 3: We must be getting close!
Fig. 4: Almost there ...Feeling fairly confident that we were indeed heading towards a badminton club of some sort, we followed the signs. Of course, they lead to a dead end where we encountered this building:
Fig. 5: Not big fans of the song "Bizarre Love Triangle," evidently.Since we had no other leads to follow, we knocked on the door. Maybe it was a combination Illuminati/Badminton club. Oddly enough, there was no answer, so we snuck a peek inside and intuited from the piles of trash that the place had been taken over by vagrants some time ago. We retraced our steps to the "Keops Fitness Club" -- which exists independently of the "Keops Badminton/Squash Courts" -- and asked the woman at the desk what the deal was with the courts. It turns out that they had been closed more than 3 years ago, but no one had bothered to take down the signs. The site we had found on the internet belong to the other Malley badminton courts, which were a few blocks away.
A few minutes later, we found the "Malley Badminotn Club" and got ourselves a court for an hour. I probably should have been worried by the fact that Jens not only had his own racquets (they weren't his nice ones -- he'd left those in Germany) but he also had his own professional looking equipment bag. After warming up for a few minutes, Jens proceeded to kick the crap out of me for the remainder of the hour.
If you've ever played badminton before, then you know how much bending and lunging is involved. Especially if you're getting the tar beaten out of you, you tend to spend a lot of time reaching low for shots just out of your reach. After about a half hour, I could feel some soreness in my back. I figured it was no big deal -- I mean, I've played tons of badminton and I've never had anything worse than a little soreness -- and kept playing. For an hour or so after the beatdown, I felt pretty good. Endorphins rushed through my body and although I could feel some slight stiffness when I bent down to untie my shoes when I got home, I felt fine. I took a shower, got dressed, then had a light lunch. Then, it hit me.
I spent most of yesterday and today lying down or sitting still. I dropped a sock on the floor this morning getting dressed and just decided to go with one sock for a while. Now that more than twenty-four hours have elapsed since "the hurt," I finally have the strength to venture out of my apartment. Being old sucks.
Speaking of the apartment, it's really improved. I bought a plant at the supermarket the other day and I think it really brightens up the room.
Fig. 6: I call him "Basil."
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