10 non-technical tennis lessons (+1 extra tip) I’ve learned as a 32-year-old beginner based in Toronto, where club waitlists stretch to 2,600 people

I’ve been learning tennis for almost two years, investing a lot of time, effort, and (let’s be honest) money, all in the hopes of improving. Recently, I started to feel like I can actually play tennis — not just learn it. It’s an exciting moment for me, and a perfect time to reflect on some key lessons I’ve picked up along the way.

1. Tennis is the hardest sport I’ve ever tried.

Growing up, I was always an active guy — I played soccer, dodgeball, ping pong, badminton, and basketball. While I was never an outstanding player, I never felt particularly challenged when picking up these sports. So before my first tennis class, I thought: “It’s just a scaled-up version of ping pong. How hard could it be?” Turns out, I was completely wrong.

Of course, my perspective might be skewed by age. I’m now 32, but 95% of my sports-learning experience happened before I turned 18, when I had the time, energy, and flexibility to fully immerse myself in new activities. Even so, I’m confident that most people would agree: tennis is hard.

2. Getting by is not an option in tennis.

The bar is too high. With ping pong, for example, if I want a casual game with a friend over a beer, we can easily enjoy a back-and-forth rally because it’s intuitive — just move your racket toward the ball, and it’ll bounce across the net. Most people can get the hang of it after a few repetitions. Tennis, on the other hand? Good luck keeping a rally going for more than three shots.

To be clear, I’m not devaluing other sports, including ping pong, which I love dearly. Mastering any sport takes tremendous effort. I’m simply saying that, as a beginner, tennis presents a much higher barrier to entry compared to other common sports.

3. Many things in tennis aren’t intuitive.

This is one of the reasons why tennis feels so difficult to me. Take spacing as an example: instead of instinctively leaning into the incoming ball, I often have to do the opposite, stay hyper-vigilant about keeping my distance. Otherwise, I end up too close, forcing me into an awkward posture when hitting the ball.

“Keep away from the ball instead of approaching it!” I’ve heard this from my coach hundreds of times, yet my body still hasn’t overcome the instinctive impulse.

4. Tennis demands full-body engagement — physically, mentally, and cognitively.

This sport requires every part of you to work in harmony, not just for the obviously challenging moves, but also for seemingly easy shots, like a volley against a soft, close-net ball. Your mind must stay fully present, without clinging to past mistakes. Your brain constantly calculates countless variables to determine the right move. And your muscles, every inch from head to toe, must tune in and respond with precision.

5. This is why, if you’re seeking a true “flow” experience, tennis is a great choice.

To hit quality shots, you need a persistent, intense, yet relaxed focus, often sustained for at least an hour. You must stay highly aware of your state in the moment; if distracted, you adjust, refocus, and return to presence.

For me, tennis sessions have always felt like dynamic meditation, a powerful complement to my conventional seated meditation practice.

6. Tennis has forced me to confront fears I’ve long avoided.

On the mental side, tennis has brought hidden fears to light, pushing me to face them. For example, the fear of displaying my imperfections, underperforming, and being judged.

I’ve learned to accept and manage these fears in ways I might not have otherwise, all thanks to my intense motivation to improve. After all, if I let embarrassment stop me from playing with others just because I’m not as good as Roger Federer (and never will be), I might as well quit tennis altogether.

7. “What do you have to lose? It’s just a game.”

When I told my personal trainer that I was playing too safely out of fear of making mistakes, he gave me simple advice: “Just give everything you have and have fun.”

It’s such a common and obvious mindset, yet I never truly understood it until recently. Tennis is always just a game. My poor performance on court tonight doesn’t define me — just as a great one last week, or even my current social status out there, doesn’t either.

I am the one who trains hard, plays hard, and enjoys the process.

8. Patience and enjoying the process.

Tennis has also taught me these obvious but essential lessons. Last year, frustrated by my slowness on the court and hoping to gain more power, I started weightlifting. As I progressed, I realized that while a strong physical foundation is important, time is the key factor in adapting to tennis, or any new physical activity. Regardless of muscle mass, the body needs time to adjust: neural connections must form, and dormant muscles must engage.

This process can’t be rushed. Overtraining only leads to injury or unhealthy frustration, which ultimately delays improvement.

9. Appreciating the beauty of subtle details.

In sports, things like off-season training and pre-match warm-ups used to bore me. I preferred watching highlights or top 10 shots of the week. But over time, I’ve come to appreciate the unattractive yet fundamental aspects of the game.

Now, I can’t help but be amazed by the footwork of professional tennis, basketball, soccer, and football players when they make those subtle yet critical steps before taking a shot. I also spend time studying their rituals for locking into game mode and watching their pre-game warm-up rallies, which are purely satisfying. (I still enjoy the short and exciting reels while having dinner though.)

10. Finding courts, coaches, and hitting partners can be frustrating.

Depending on where you live, accessing tennis facilities can be challenging — another reason why tennis is a hard sport to get into. I’m in Toronto, where public outdoor courts are only available for six months in the summer, and indoor clubs have absurdly long waitlists. I’ve even signed up for one with 2,600 people ahead of me, with an estimated 5-10 year wait. Luckily, I managed to get into a smaller club a few months ago — but ONLY after waiting twelve months.

It’s not just Toronto. My tennis friend in New York struggles with the high costs of courts and coaching, making regular practice difficult. In contrast, things are much easier in other places. For example, in my experience, Taiwan has quality court accessibility and reasonable coaching fees. And according to my friends in the Bay Area, it’s practically a tennis paradise, with abundant facilities and great weather year-round.

Finding hitting partners or the right coach for your level isn’t easy either. But stay patient and proactive — things will gradually fall into place, just as they have for me.

It’s been a fruitful two-year journey. Tennis has added so much fun, energy, and passion to my life. That said, tennis also introduced a significant challenge to my personal life. Here comes the one extra tip:

11. To avoid fights, leave coaching to the professionals when playing with your partner.

When my wife and I first started playing together, we had a lot of fights. From her perspective, it felt like I was constantly instructing her, being strict and harsh, while I only intended to share what I had learned with her. It was bad.

This is a relationship topic far too complex to unpack here, but at its core, it’s all about expectations. Yes, managing expectations isn’t just important at work — it matters in relationships too. In my case, my wife expected to enjoy the time together, while I was only focused on improving — that misalignment was the real issue.

But over time, we’ve learned to share, learn, and respect each other’s expectations. Now, I prioritize having fun when playing with her, and she learns practical skills from professional coaches. Or, when she feels like learning, she’ll ask for tips from me, and only then do I share. But even then, I keep things ten times more relaxed than in my own training sessions.

And you know what? I also learned that improving doesn’t mean being rigid — I’ve gotten pretty good at handling slower balls with precision.

Looking back, my tennis journey has been more than just about learning a sport—it has been a lesson in patience, resilience, and even relationships. From struggling with my first rallies to finally feeling like I can play, not just learn, every challenge has shaped my growth on and off the court. And while I still have a long way to go, one thing is certain: tennis is tough, but that’s exactly what makes it so much fun.