Justine Henin was once among the most inscrutable athletes in sports. With an aloof half smile, she kept everything under her white cap -- the pain of losing her mother to cancer when she was a 12-year-old, the estrangement from her father and siblings, the relationship with her husband, her struggle with a debilitating virus.
What we got instead was that exquisite backhand, a shot so sweet it left the taste of Belgian chocolate in your mouth.
But in recent years, Henin had opened up. She became introspective and illuminating. Sometimes she even sounded like the Dalai Lama or Kierkegaard offering philosophical bons mots.
``Impossible is nothing, was a Henin comment, which became an adidas ad campaign.
It was assumed she would win another couple Grand Slams this year, as she did last year, and hang on to her No. 1 ranking indefinitely, using her will, her speed and that delicious backhand to defeat her bigger peers. She always looked so vulnerable, at 5-5 ¾ and 125 pounds, but she was deceptively powerful.
So it was a surprise when Henin announced her retirement, effective immediately, at age 25.
She was having a subpar season, but the French Open she has won four times was only two weeks away. Not even a farewell summer at Wimbledon and the U.S. Open. Just a baffling decision to quit in her prime, the first reigning No. 1 player to retire from women's tennis.
Or was it baffling? Leave it to Henin to provide insight as to what happens inside an athlete's mind when desire disappears. Annika Sorenstam, 37, announced she will retire after this season, even though she could keep winning titles for another decade.
FLAME DIED
''This flame I had in me,'' Henin said, died months ago. She tried to get it going again. She was burned out.
She, Sorenstam and Brett Favre, too, were tired of the grind.
Of course, no one feels sympathy for athletes because they have to work so hard and lead such grueling lives. We routinely extol the football player who lifts weights all morning, practices all afternoon and then -- what dedication! -- watches game film into the night.
Come on. Most people in the real world work 10 times harder for a fraction of the money, and don't have masseuses, personal chefs and financial advisors waiting on them.
But professional athletes pay a price for living between the lines. What we do for fun, they do for a job. What we do to relax, they do for a paycheck, under nerve-searing pressure, in front of judgmental fans and unforgiving TV cameras.
''I'm going to appreciate going for a run with nothing at stake, just doing it for pleasure,'' Henin said. ``I've never put my feet in skis, and next year I think I'll be doing it the whole winter.
``I want to rediscover the small pleasures, not look at my watch all the time because I have to get to training the next day.''
SINGULAR FOCUS
Pure play, a balm which we take for granted, was removed from Henin's life when she was 6 and began training to be a phenom. From that moment on, her life grew more and more one-dimensional, with a singular focus on winning.
''It is my life as woman that starts now,'' Henin declared, feeling not sadness but relief, she said.
Athletes live as coddled children, as honed physical specimens, celebrities, breadwinners, objects of undeserved awe.
For that, Henin earned nearly $20 million, ''more money than I can use in three lifetimes,'' but gave up freedom and balance -- things like aimlessness on summer vacation or craziness on a college campus.
Like Jim Brown and Steffi Graf, she got out before she wore out.
She's only 25, and countrywoman Kim Clijsters was only 23 when she retired. The loss of drive comes earlier these days for athletes whose odometers started whirring as preteens. Makes you worry about others heavily programmed as kids and facing midlife crises in their mid-20s.
Venus and Serena Williams have been criticized for taking breaks and pursuing outside interests, but perhaps that will enable them to endure longer in a game their father once described as ``hitting a ball back and forth until your eyes bug out.''
NEWFOUND JOY
Henin finally played with noticeable joy in the past year, after divorcing her husband and reconciling with her family following a car accident that injured her brother. At the 2007 French Open, her two brothers and sister attended her matches for the first time in her career.
She can afford to resume her personal life. Tennis will miss her charming game, guts and musings.
''Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards,'' Kierkegaard once said.
