Sport Vs Everything Else

Since… some time in November, I’ve been playing badminton in a Saturday lunchtime slot. This is good in most ways, since exercise is a positive thing and it gives me something to do when the weekends are dull.

But I also find myself becoming less useful in most other ways. I read somewhere that sport was meant to make me burst forth into my life, more energised and healthy or some such. At least, eventually, once I’ve gotten used to it.

And yet, after six months of regular sporting effort, I still find myself spending the remainder of these Saturdays crashed out on my bed, stirring only to watch TV and moan on Twitter about how tired and achy I am. So, is this a normal reaction? Do regular active people have to simply accept that, by doing sport, they are accepting the rest of that day whirling away down the crapper?

(This is without mentioning that, on strenuous weeks, I can look forward to losing most of the following day as well. Oh, and that my attempts to socialise immediately after badminton have often ended in physical or emotional carnage.)

I have multiple books to try and edit, dammit. Not to mention various other endeavours to support. Am I just unfit? Is the answer to my grudge against exercise… doing more exercise? Because, obviously, that’s quite upsetting. I’ve barely finished slapping myself on the back for managing to do this tiny amount.

Never mind. At least eventually it will stop being summer, the burning energy-sucking heat will recede and this problem will improve by a fraction.