By Paradis Pro Taylor Ng
Five years ago, I left a desk job to pursue a dream: professional tennis. It felt crazy at the time, and it feels even crazier when I think back on it now. Chasing after that dream and experiencing all that professional tennis entailed was life changing, and I am excited to share a little bit of my experience with you now!
For context, the professional tennis tour is structured so that there are dozens of tournaments around the world every week – different levels, surfaces and locations. Someone could, in theory, play 52 weeks out of the year. A player’s ranking reflects their best results in the trailing twelve months, with higher grade tournaments offering more ranking points (and vice versa). Navigating the tradeoffs between when or where to play versus when to rest can be tricky. And on top of this, tennis does not have a clearly defined “offseason,” so players must actively choose when to take prolonged breaks. The schedule can be grueling.
From a practical perspective, tennis players are largely independent contractors. There are few guarantees: what you win is what you make. Sponsorships exist and can be very lucrative, but they are often reserved for the highest-ranked players. Much of the travel is solo, and at many lower-level tournaments, players room together. This means that one minute, the person next to you could be your roommate, and the next, they could be your opponent. One minute, you could be walking off the court having just battled out a 3+ hour match, and the next, you could be sitting next to each other having lunch at adjacent tables. The social dynamics were part of the experience just as much as the tennis itself.
I think some of the biggest challenges of professional tennis were also the very things I cherished the most. Physically, mentally and emotionally, professional tennis constantly pushed me out of my comfort zone, taught me invaluable lessons and gave me a lifetime of memories.
PHYSICAL
The physical demands of professional tennis were significant, not just because I trained and competed most days, but especially because of the structure of the tournament schedule and ranking system. Today, I could be playing one tournament in one country, one time zone and one climate, only to fly to a new tournament tomorrow in a new country, new time zone and new climate. Jetlag and fatigue definitely took a toll, and at the tournaments themselves, conditions could be extreme – heat, humidity, altitude, you name it. Since tennis matches are decided on score rather than time, my matches could be shorter than an hour or longer than four. And with often less than 24 hours between matches, I found rest and recovery management to be just as much a battle as the matches themselves.
While professional tennis was physically taxing, it was a gift to experience the process of trying to get the most out of my body and testing its capabilities under the most grueling conditions. Throughout my career, I worked to optimize as many physical elements as were in my control. My training and recovery protocols were intertwined with heart rate tracking and zone-based interval training. I balanced strength and conditioning with flexibility and prehab. I kept a detailed log of my sleep statistics. I logged nutrition and hydration, experimenting with nearly every electrolyte in the book. I monitored caffeine, stress, training loads and anything else I could think of. My warm-up and recovery routines were planned down to the minute. All of these things evolved as I got a better understanding of what worked and what didn’t. I learned to embrace rest when I needed to recover and to embrace suffering when I needed to perform. Ultimately, I came to understand and listen to my body better than I ever had before.
“Having match day gear that provided both comfort and function was always an absolute must. That’s why I’ve loved the Paradis seamless thong. It offers the best of both worlds!”
MENTAL
Like other sports, tennis is mentally intensive. But something I’ve always loved about tennis is the mental battles it facilitates – not just between players, but more often than not, the battles it facilitates within players themselves. To me, the mental side of tennis (and all sports, for that matter) is the most intriguing. I love the idea that mental toughness can be just as much a weapon as any physical capability.
The mental demands of professional tennis were significant both within and beyond the confines of the court. For better or for worse, there really isn’t anywhere to hide. One of the toughest challenges I found many players struggled with, myself included, was having to deal with constantly losing. When playing tournaments week after week, losing is inevitable. Not even the best players can win every week. In fact, I have seen players reach the Top 300 in the world while winning just one or two events per year. This means that in the other 15-20+ events that they play, they lose at some point during that week. With the combined stresses of traveling, training and the pressure to perform – and when one match or one tournament can change the trajectory of your entire schedule – this can be a lot to handle.
While professional tennis was mentally taxing, it was a gift to test my mental limits in environments that constantly demanded the highest degrees of fortitude and resilience. A big part of my development within professional tennis came in learning how to truly fall in love with the process. I never enjoyed losing any more than when I started out, but I slowly learned the importance of taking a step back and assessing my performance through a learning lens, with a focus on gradual, incremental improvement. I learned how to focus more on the trajectory of my growth and development as both a player and as a person, understanding that results were simply a byproduct.
I also learned the importance of staying present. In a match, players get 25 seconds between points, and statistically, many matches are won by a differential of just a few points. In fact, tennis is perhaps one of the only sports where you can actually lose more points than your opponent yet still win overall based on games and sets. The sport forced me to learn how to focus solely on the current task and approach each point with the same presence and engagement, no matter the score. All of these lessons – and more – really helped me to develop tools and habits that will be invaluable through the rest of my life.
EMOTIONAL
Unlike the physical and mental aspects, which I at least mildly anticipated, there was an entirely different emotional component of professional tennis that I found quite challenging. When I say emotional, I am not necessarily referring to emotional regulation for performance, but rather, the compounding effect of the physical and mental challenges described above, and the lifestyle that came along with professional tennis.
For me, one of the most challenging aspects was living life essentially as a nomad. Traveling so many weeks out of the year was taxing, and there were countless times when I woke up unsure of what country I was in or even what month it was. When asked where I lived, I didn’t always know how to answer, and it was hard to describe the feeling of being unsure of where to call home. Home could be a hotel in Portugal one week, an Airbnb in Mexico the next week, or a room in a condo near a training academy you’ve been graciously invited to in between tournaments. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to be far away from my family and friends, to miss out on holidays, and to not be able to make many plans because I didn’t know where I would be in one- or two-months’ time.
With that said, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. As much as it was challenging, it was unbelievably rewarding. Not having a truly defined “home” meant that I got to experience so much of what the world had to offer. I competed in 21 countries across five continents and met people from all different cultures and walks of life. I got to step outside of what I’d been used to and do so while playing the sport that I loved. Home might have been a hotel in Portugal one week, but in a village where I could walk to the corner bakery, unable to speak the language, and still feel the warmth of a smile from a stranger behind the counter. Home might have been an Airbnb in Mexico the next week, but for a tournament where the crowd alternated chants of “Mexico! USA!” as I played alongside a Mexican doubles partner, home might have been a room in a condo near a training academy, but with a couple who treated me like a daughter and who I now consider family. I learned to develop a sense of home within myself and a sense of home with the people I met and places I traveled, no matter how short-lived.
Traveling around the world also gave me the opportunity to represent people, organizations and causes that were greater than just myself. I got to represent my family, my friends and my team – people who I knew were always with me even if they were far away. I got to represent my school, Dartmouth, a place that gave me countless opportunities as an athlete and as a student. I got to represent global sports charities like High Impact Athletes and The True Athlete Project: organizations committed to making a real difference in the world. And, of course, I got to represent amazing brands like Paradis Sport!
Professional tennis was unlike anything I’d experienced before. The sport truly pushed my physical, mental and emotional bounds in ways I could have never anticipated. And through all ups and downs, the challenges and the lessons, I like to think I am a better person for it.
