It's a fair question. He/she (?) is not the first to ask that. I ask myself that all the time.

The short answer is "because I feel like it."

That's what an old tennis partner used to say, just loud enough for his doubles partner and opponents to hear, after hitting a winner.

Athletes know the feeling by other names — runner's high, in the zone, out of your head, grooved, unconscious — but I like "better than sex" for those rare moments of perfection for us amateurs more familiar with failures that are "worse than dental surgery."

As one of the PGA's attorneys said in court last week, professional athletes are held to high standards for the integrity of the game.

"When you become a professional athlete you don't always get to do everything the man on the street gets to do," said Rich Young, a lawyer in Colorado Springs who has worked on the Floyd Landis case and other major doping suspensions.

If, as a weekend warrior, you could take drugs to boost your strength, speed your recovery, improve your time, or calm your nerves, would you do it? I'm not so sure.

Enjoy 'em while you got 'em, athletes. Here's one man's story of injury, decline, and hopefully recovery next year.

The event includes something for riders from 5 to 55 years old, ranging from a 50-yard dash to a 40 minute race over the 1.5 mile course. There is also a men's pro division with a 50-minute race.

Registration will begin at 8 a.m. and the first races are at 9 a.m. Mountain bikes are welcome, and the entry fee is $30 for all categories ($10 for childrem 14 and under), benefitting the Church Health Center.

Cyclocross is spectator friendly and held on an obstacle course that requires riders to dismount several times and carry their bikes.

The best beers for athletes, according to an unscientific survey of athletes I know, are these:

More than 16,000 people signed up to participate in last weekend's 2009 Komen Memphis-Midsouth Race for the Cure in Germantown. The St. Jude Memphis Marathon in December is at capacity with 3,500 participants in the marathon and a good chance of making the goal of 12,000 more in the FK and half marathon.

There are some lessons for backers of other sports vying for attention and funding in Memphis.

In January I set personal goals for strength, weight, and competition with a goal of winning a national age-group championship. So far, so so. I've met two of the three goals but have been backsliding lately, and I come up with new excuses every week.

• Rosie Murrell

There is a method to the blandness. Dr. Scott Morris thinks this is the way you get people who are beyond out of shape to exercise, lose weight, and change their lives.

It is possibly the loudest sport not involving firearms or motor vehicles. The ball comes off the wall with a crack like a rifle shot, with the noise confined to the enclosed court. During breaks in the pro matches on Sunday, the music was cranked up to the decibels of jet engines. This is a sport for people who don't like to sit still.

Nobody plays it better than Kane Waselenchuk, who won the pro tournament for the fifth time in three straight games. He may be the best of the best, by the widest margin, of any athlete in any sport in the world. The guy is almost unbeatable. The only thing to stop him was a two-year suspension for drugs a couple years ago. Now he's clean and a machine.

The 14th U.S. Open Racquetball Tournament at the Racquet Club was also probably the last one for Memphis. The event lost its title sponsors — formerly Promus and Hampton Inns, which are no longer Memphis based companies — and is likely to move somewhere else next year, possibly Minnesota.

Not guilty on the language tort, but more on that later. The more interesting question is how much influence the sports intelligentsia should exercise in making public policy. Less than they think, is my opinion.

And every once in a while it does. Last Sunday, three people died running the half-marathon in Detroit, a jinxed city if there ever was one.

Could it happen here at the St. Jude Memphis Marathon on December 5th? Highly unlikely, but anything is possible when thousands of people participate in extreme sports, say runners, doctors and race organizers.

To those of us who have spent our athletic lives straining, lifting, grunting, running, jumping, or chasing a ball, this is very strange. Not that we aren't envious.

I hope I'm wrong, but Allen Iverson's torn hamstring, especially if it is black and purple as he says it is, could keep him down for quite a while.

One serious Memphis tennis player (and tennis dad and patron of both public and private tennis clubs) thinks so.

He argues that businesses like Google (“the Citadel of Free”) can make more by giving things away than by charging for them. Free websites, long distance calls, blogs, stock trades, and newspapers are among the many examples.

Anderson does what a good writer should do. He tells you things you didn’t know, he keeps you reading, and he makes you think. He got me thinking about how we value time, information, and sports.

Especially if a you're the only white guy on the court. And a newbie. And your last name is Stoneking.

The minute you step on the court, green, or field, the regulars start checking you out. Oversell your skills and you'll be found out sooner or later and probably demoted if not shunned. Undersell yourself and you won't get the competition and workout you deserve.

Meet Mohamed, a new guy who rediscovered fun in his old sport.

Should politicians be judged on their weight as well as the weight of their words?

Should sugary soft drinks be taxed?

Probably. Nobody likes a scold. But elections won't change Memphis much or fix health care. Neither will the Dalai Lama or President Obama or Congress. The only thing that's going to do that is policies that encourage changes in individual behavior.

Gotta be a tough sport, right? Only if you consider the annual Robinsonville, Mississippi Bridge Tournament at Sam's Town Casino in Tunica a sport.

Are non-contact mental games sports? Former athlete, newspaper columnist, and Memphian Bob Levey thinks so.

"I'm proud to announce that we had 77 percent complete the race and 81 percent complete the program," said trainer Star Ritchey of inbalance Fitness. "A couple of people were unable to do the race due to scheduling conflicts but did complete all the runs with us. Looking at the numbers, we had a few injuries, thankfully none caused by running, but out of all of our "starters" I can proudly say only five people actually quit the program with no reason other than they just decided it wasn't for them."

Restaurants, homebuilders, multiplex theaters, and big-box retailers previously beat a path to the 'burbs. Now we have big-box fitness. At this rate, it shouldn't be long before there's a workout machine for every man, woman, and child in town.

I checked out the action this week with Collierville resident John Shepherd. John is as old school as they come. Back in the Fifties, he played football, track, and boxed in Golden Gloves, plus a little extracurricular roughhouse. His knowledge and memory of all things Memphis is encyclopedic. If there's a trend, he's usually among the first to spot it. And he can start a conversation with a stranger faster than you can say "what was your name again?"

• William Foster (left) and Hosea Hill

For more than 50 years, Hosea Hill and William Foster helped hundreds of Memphis boys and girls literally run to success on high school cinder tracks, college and Olympics stadiums around the world, and later in their professional lives as doctors, police officers, and businessmen and women.

Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe have raged against fans, umpires, linesmen, and themselves in matches at the Racquet Club of Memphis. Their antics were endured in silence by the linesmen and lineswomen, but they were no less boorish than William's f-bomb-laced tirade of the lineswoman who called a ridiculous foot fault on her at the end of her semifinal match against Kim Clijsters.

One of the biggest changes in tennis is how much better the sportsmanship is since the Connonrs-McEnroe era.

Stafford has what he believes is possibly the only flier left from the event that matched two highly skilled athletes with very different personalities and, according to Sports Illustrated, drew more than $30,000 in on-site wagers.