By Mateo Rally 🤙 🏓
It's 6:47 AM on Thanksgiving morning, and I'm lying in my childhood bedroom in Austin, staring at the ceiling and doing mental math.
Four days off. Approximately 12,000 calories of turkey, stuffing, and pie incoming. Zero scheduled court time. And a ~4.0+ bracket tournament exactly nine days away.
My software developer brain immediately goes into problem-solving mode: How do I maintain enough fitness to not feel like a complete beginner on Monday while also actually enjoying this holiday? 🤔
Because here's the thing—I'm genuinely grateful for this break 🙏. Grateful for family time, for my mom's cooking, for a body that can still move at 35. But I'm also acutely aware that I spent the last three months building the conditioning that finally got me competitive at ~4.0+, and the thought of losing it over turkey and football makes my left eye twitch.
So welcome to my Thanksgiving 2025 maintenance plan: A realistic, slightly ridiculous, completely honest guide to staying court-ready while still earning seconds on pie.
The Philosophy: It's Not About Perfection, It's About Not Regressing
Let me be clear: I'm not trying to improve my fitness over Thanksgiving weekend. That ship has sailed, probably somewhere around Tuesday when I started "carb loading" for Thursday.
My goal is simple: Maintain enough movement and mobility so that Monday's return to court doesn't feel like I'm starting from scratch. 😥
This isn't about guilt. It's not about punishing myself for enjoying the holiday. It's about honoring the body that carries me through those long tournament days and making sure it still recognizes me come Monday morning.
Also, let's be honest—after months of structured training, my body genuinely protests when I skip movement entirely. It's not discipline at this point; it's self-preservation. 😉
Thursday Morning: The Pre-Turkey Ritual
6:30 AM - The Gratitude Stretch Session
I roll out of bed and immediately feel my hip flexors reminding me that yesterday's five-hour drive was not ideal preparation for today's feast. Perfect timing.
I spend 15 minutes on the floor doing the gentle mobility work that keeps my 35-year-old former desk-job body functional:
- Hip flexor stretches (because sitting is still my day job)
- Cat-cow movements (my back thanks me immediately)
- Ankle mobility circles (footwork starts here)
- Shoulder rolls and arm circles (three years of pickleball has opinions about my right shoulder)
- Gentle twists (because my spine appreciates the reminder that it can, in fact, rotate)
The Mindset: This isn't training. This is maintenance. This is me saying thank you to a body that showed up for every court session this year, even when I was tired, even when I wanted to skip, even when that 4.0 player absolutely destroyed my backhand for 45 minutes straight.
I'm grateful I can still touch my toes. I'm grateful nothing hurts. I'm grateful for another year of movement.
The "Bonding Walk" Strategy (AKA Sneaking in Cardio)
10:30 AM - Post-Breakfast, Pre-Cooking Chaos
"Hey, anyone want to take a walk before we start cooking?"
This is my move. Every year. And every year, at least two family members join me, probably because they also ate three cinnamon rolls and are experiencing guilt-regret.
We walk for 40 minutes through the neighborhood. I'm not power-walking or doing anything ridiculous—just a solid conversational pace that keeps my heart rate slightly elevated and my legs moving.
The Secret Sauce: I'm slightly exaggerating my arm swing. Not enough that anyone notices, but enough that my shoulders are getting gentle work. I'm also focusing on engaging my core and maintaining good posture.
Is this a workout? No.
Is this infinitely better than sitting on the couch scrolling Instagram? Absolutely. 💪
Bonus: My aunt tells me about her new neighbor drama, I get some genuine quality time, and I've now banked enough movement that the mashed potatoes later won't make me feel like a complete slug. 🫃
The Guest Room Resistance Band Rebellion
3:45 PM - The Post-Lunch Food Coma Window
Everyone's in that beautiful post-turkey stupor. Football is on. Someone's asleep on the couch. The kitchen is a disaster that will be dealt with "later."
This is my window.
I retreat to the guest room with the resistance band I totally casually packed in my suitcase (because of course I did). I spend 12 minutes doing the bare minimum to keep my muscles from completely forgetting they exist:
- Banded squats (20 reps, nothing crazy)
- Lateral band walks (reminding my glutes they have a job)
- Banded rows (my posture needs this after hunching over Thanksgiving dinner)
- External shoulder rotations (pickleball players know why)
- Banded core rotations (keeping that trunk rotation alive)
The Reality Check: This isn't strength training. This is just sending a gentle reminder to my muscles that we're still in this game together. It's like a text to a friend you haven't seen in a while—just checking in, staying connected, maintaining the relationship.
Am I sweating? Barely.
Am I getting stronger? No.
Will Monday-Me thank me for this? Absolutely yes. 😃
Why Pickleball Players Are Weirdly Good at Finding Excuses to Move
Throughout the Day - The Micro-Movements
Here's what nobody tells you about becoming a competitive recreational athlete: You start seeing movement opportunities everywhere.
- Carrying the turkey to the table? That's a farmer's carry. Core engaged, shoulders back.
- Reaching for dishes in the high cabinet? Calf raise opportunity.
- Picking up toys with my nephew? Squat practice.
- Standing at the counter chopping vegetables? Subtle weight shifting, working on balance.
- Doing the dishes? Standing on one leg while washing (until my mom asks if I'm okay).
Is this ridiculous? Maybe.
Is this also kind of brilliant? Also yes. 🙃
The truth is, after three years of structuring my life around court time, movement has become my default mode. Not intense, purposeful training—just constant, gentle, almost unconscious motion.
It's honestly one of the things I'm most grateful for about discovering pickleball at 35. It rewired my brain to see movement as play, as natural, as something my body wants rather than something I have to force myself to do.
Friday: The Strategic Rest Day (With Gentle Stretching)
Morning - The "I Ate Too Much" Protocol
I wake up feeling exactly as you'd expect after consuming what was probably 4,000 calories of Thanksgiving dinner.
My plan for Friday is simple: Strategic rest with gentle movement.
- Morning: 10 minutes of floor stretching (because my body asks for it)
- Afternoon: Another neighborhood walk, this time solo with a podcast (45 minutes, easy pace)
- Evening: Foam rolling while watching football (15 minutes, focusing on calves and quads)
The Mindset Shift: Friday isn't about making up for Thursday. Friday is about recovery. About letting my digestive system do its thing. About honoring rest as part of the training process.
One of the hardest lessons I've learned grinding toward ~4.0+ is that rest isn't the enemy of progress—inadequate rest is.
Saturday & Sunday: The "Gift to Monday-Me" Protocol
Saturday Morning - Light Return to Movement
By Saturday, I'm genuinely missing structured movement. Not because I feel guilty about Thanksgiving (I don't), but because my body is ready to do something again.
I spend 30 minutes doing a light drill session in the driveway—no partner, no intensity, just me and a paddle and a wall:
- Dink practice against the garage (focusing on touch, not power)
- Footwork patterns without a ball (small steps, staying light)
- Shadow swings (keeping my mechanics fresh)
The Goal: This isn't training. This is just reminding my body what pickleball movement feels like so Monday doesn't feel like starting from zero.
Sunday - The Prep-for-Monday Session
Sunday is my compromise day. I do a slightly more structured workout—nothing intense, just enough to tell my body, "Hey, we're going back to work tomorrow."
- 20 minutes of easy movement (jumping jacks, dynamic stretches, light shadowboxing)
- 15 minutes of core work (planks, dead bugs, bird dogs—the boring essential stuff)
- 10 minutes of mobility (hips, ankles, shoulders—the full court-ready checklist)
Why This Matters: Monday morning, when I step on that court for the first time in five days, I don't want to feel like a stranger in my own body. This Sunday session is my insurance policy against that feeling.
The Bigger Picture: What Pickleball Taught Me About Thanksgiving
Here's the thing that surprised me most about this whole Thanksgiving maintenance plan: It's not actually about the physical fitness.
I mean, yes, maintaining movement matters. Yes, I want to show up Monday feeling ready to play. Yes, the resistance bands and wall drills serve a purpose.
But the deeper lesson—the one that took me three years of pickleball to learn—is about gratitude for a body that works.
At 35, after years of tech-job desk sitting, I have a body that can move. That can play. That can compete. That can recover. That doesn't hurt most days.
That's not something I want to take for granted.
So when I'm doing hip stretches on Thanksgiving morning, I'm not thinking about my ~4.0+ bracket tournament. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that this still works. That my hip flexors will stretch. That my shoulders will rotate. That I get to play a sport I love.
When I'm sneaking in resistance band work in the guest room, I'm not worried about losing gains. I'm grateful I have strength to maintain.
When I'm walking through my childhood neighborhood, I'm not calculating calories burned. I'm appreciating that my body carries me through the world without complaint.
Pickleball didn't just teach me about fitness—it taught me about presence. About showing up. About honoring the body that shows up for me.
The Monday Morning Reality Check
It's 6:15 AM on Monday, and I'm driving to the courts for the first session after the long weekend.
Did my Thanksgiving maintenance plan work perfectly? I'm about to find out.
Do I feel as sharp as I did last Tuesday? Probably not.
Do I feel like I'm starting from scratch? Definitely not. ✔️
And honestly? That's the win. 🙌
I maintained enough movement to feel like myself. I enjoyed the holiday without guilt. I ate the pie (twice). I spent quality time with family. I rested when my body needed it. I moved when my body asked for it.
And now, Monday-Me gets to step on the court feeling grateful—not just for the fitness I maintained, but for the four-day break that reminded me why I love this game in the first place.
Because here's what three years of pickleball has taught me: Fitness isn't just about what you do at peak performance. It's about what you do on the off days. The holiday weekends. The "life got in the way" moments.
It's about showing up—even when "showing up" means 12 minutes of resistance bands in a guest room or a casual walk disguised as family bonding.
It's about making movement feel like play instead of punishment.
It's about being grateful for a body that still works, still moves, still plays.
The Actual Takeaways (If You Want the Practical Stuff)
Look, if you made it this far and you're thinking, "Okay Mateo, great story, but what should I actually do this Thanksgiving?" here's the no-BS version:
Thursday:
- 10-15 minutes of gentle stretching in the morning
- One solid walk (30-45 minutes, conversational pace)
- Eat everything. Enjoy it. Zero guilt.
Friday:
- Strategic rest day
- Another walk if it feels good
- Foam rolling or stretching if your body asks for it
Saturday:
- Light movement (20-30 minutes, nothing intense)
- Focus on touch and feel, not power or intensity
Sunday:
- Slightly more structured (30-40 minutes total)
- Prep your body for Monday's return
The Real Secret: Listen to your body. If it asks for rest, rest. If it asks for movement, move. If it asks for both pie and a walk, congratulations, you're a functional human.
Final Thoughts: The Long Game
Fitness is a long game. It's not about four perfect days—it's about years of showing up, even when showing up looks different.
So this Thanksgiving, I'm grateful for:
- A body that moves
- A sport that feels like play
- A community that texts "see you Monday" even though we just played Wednesday
- The discipline to maintain movement without letting it consume the holiday
- The wisdom to know that one long weekend won't derail months of progress
- The joy of discovering athletic passion at 35
And yeah, I'm also grateful for my mom's stuffing, my aunt's pie, and the fact that Monday's court session is not so far away.
Let's Rally.
Mateo Rally is a ~4.0+ pickleball player, software developer, and founding member of the Tejas Pickleball Club in Georgetown, Texas. He structures his life around court time, dreams about third-shot drops, and has successfully converted half his former racquetball crew to pickleball. When he's not on the court, he's thinking about being on the court.
About Pickleball Addict Life:
We're a community of players who've caught the pickleball bug and wear it as a badge of honor. From beginners to tournament competitors, if you structure your life around court time, you're our people. Let's Rally.
Got your own Thanksgiving 🦃 🏋️♂️ maintenance strategy? Questions about staying court-ready during the holidays? Hit me up at contact@pickleballaddict.life or reach out via Instagram DM to @pickleballaddictlife.
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