I’m standing on the deuce side of the tennis court, getting ready to serve in a doubles match. As my partner stares ahead, the two women on the other side of the net look at me—and I just want to die. I squint into the sun and toss the ball in the air, swing, and miss. I try again and hit the ball into the net. My face burns with embarrassment and I profusely apologize. My partner tells me it’s okay and our opponents are sympathetic (as well as being happy to take the point), but still I wonder: Why did I think I could pick up a new sport in my late 30s?

About a year earlier, I’d gotten into a fitness routine, but after too many sessions on the elliptical I felt like a hamster on a wheel. I wanted a new challenge, something active but approachable.

I’d spent most of my life avoiding spor

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