I wield my instrument with confidence and precision. It slices through the air as an extension of my dominant hand. My feet shift slightly; I anticipate needing to reposition my body for the next step. I execute the move flawlessly. No, I’m not in the midst of performing a medical procedure: I’m on the tennis court. My husband had been encouraging me to take up tennis for a while, but I couldn’t quite seem to find the time. As a clinical urologist with a full-time appointment and a child in grade school, I had difficulty fitting it into my schedule. But earlier this summer, I finally made some free time and began taking lessons with a pro. In the early weeks, learning how to play tennis reminded me of the good parts of residency (luckily no 5 a.m. rounds or malignant attendings). Just as in intern year, I started out with the essentials. There are various grip positions, stroke motions, and basic footwork skills that need to be mastered in order to progress in skill-level. Just like in training, the building blocks then stack on each other as you become more comfortable with the basics. I’ve since perfected my ground-strokes, added strategy to my game, and learned how to serve.

I’ve noticed many other similarities between tennis and medicine. Firstly, playing tennis is akin to performing procedures, as it involves learning a series of repetitive yet subtly variable movements, then executing them using muscle memory. Variations on factors such as grip, stroke motion, swing arc, and foot placement can result in an infinite number of possible outcomes, and knowing when to employ these techniques can be immensely gratifying. Furthermore, on both the tennis court and in a medical setting, there are multiple scenarios that you have to learn to prepare for. It’s important in both locations to know which tools and techniques to use when needed. For example, when confronted by a “drop” shot (which lands about mid-court on your side of the net), you need to know how to run up to the ball, hit it within the bounds of the court, and continue running to set up your next shot. This is similar to finding unexpected anatomy or aberrant lab value and needing to know how to pivot in order to continue successfully treating the patient. It can also be immensely gratifying to nail a “winner,” a shot where your opponent fails to touch the ball with their racket at all. As doctors, we all know the instant dopamine release of a well-executed surgical step or a successful medication trial. Finally, tennis is pleasantly social, and helps boost our physical and cognitive health. After a full day in clinic or the operating room, it can be nice to be around non-medical people, get some cardio, and catch up on non-medical topics.

Tennis is dissimilar to medicine in certain ways, but these are still beneficial to us as doctors and athletes. First of all, in tennis, the stakes are much lower than medicine, removing stress from the equation. When working in a high-stakes scenario, if there is a technical error that is irreversible and potentially detrimental to the patient, it can be quite distressing to the doctor, and could also result in an unfortunate complication. When playing tennis, there will always be another chance to win: another ball, another point to play, or another game. Additionally, in tennis, it’s comforting to know that even the pros fail sometimes, hitting the ball into the net or out of bounds, and they can still succeed. In fact, a degree of inaccuracy is expected. As doctors, on the other hand, we tend to strive for perfection in nearly every aspect of our patient encounters, as we all know what one negative patient experience can do to our practice. Tennis is the opposite of this: A single bad shot is unlikely to completely ruin our tennis reputation.

Admittedly, I’ve become somewhat addicted to tennis, seeking out early-morning and evening sessions that fit into my work schedule, and scheduling pro sessions on the weekends. We work hard in medicine, and in our free time, we should experience joy. For me, tennis has provided physical, cognitive, and social benefits, and I’m grateful I found a hobby that complements my doctor life so well.

Fara Bellows is a urologist.