Trying on wetsuits.
I just don’t swim.
I love the ‘idea’ of being a water-babe, so I decided if everyone else can get in the water, then so shall I. With a wetsuit.
To the shops.
Selecting some wetsuits, I confidently headed towards the change rooms. My husband (a dolphin who swims regardless of temperature in, or out of the water) popped his head in to offer wisdom and advice. According to him, a wetsuit should be so tight, you almost can’t breathe. Which, when you think about it; is kind of the same as going in water, which is so cold, you hold your breath. Which is why I don’t do it in the first place!
I eventually chose the wetsuit which was to come home with me. Then my ever-helpful husband handed me one of those wet-suit top things to try, ‘cheap as chips’ he said, as he disappeared to continue foraging (for himself).
I was already struggling with heat fatigue when I pulled the top over my head. Failing to check the size was a deeply regrettable moment. I realised it was too tight when I was trapped. This top was not going any further than head, shoulders and armpits, elbows trapped above my head and hands dangling, in a circulation cutting sort of way. Prognosis, not good!
Okay, now it was REALLY, REALLY, HOT in this godforsaken, clearance outlet (shed) in Queensland.
Husband. Where is he?
It was not a pretty sight; a hyperventilating, sweat fountain, STUCK in a wetsuit top, anxiety setting in.
What if I faint? What if I DIE? How would they explain it on the news? ‘We believe the woman got stuck in a youth sized wetsuit top and expired. There is a call for Government warning signs to appear in changing rooms’
No way was I getting out of that sucker without dislocating a shoulder. Forcing cool thoughts into my mind was tricky; wetsuit top stuck to my skin, music too loud, head about to explode. And still no husband.
Taking a few deep breaths, I calmly told myself ‘you will get this bloody thing off’, ‘you are not going to faint’, and ‘you know who better start running’.
With one last, almighty heave, I yanked it over my head off……freeeeedom!! I still get a headache to think about it! It is now the end of summer and I still haven’t used my wetsuit, so my dreams of embracing my inner water-babe, remain just that – inner!
For a woman who “doesn’t swim” a wet suit is not something you should be investing in. Can I suggest a kaftan.
NO!!! How ruuuuuuuude…..you know I’ve got about 10 already, snapped them up in Bali, where the water is warm (no need for wetsuit), the cocktails are cool and the men are HOT!! hahaha
Oh gosh I feel your pain! All those years of waterskiing couldn’t erase the memories of trying to take off a wet wetsuit!! The ripping and tearing at your skin and hairs with 2 sisters helping and laughing uproariously!! The exhaustion after. Skiing was a breeze.
Im loving the heated pool in my apartment…join me!!
Stop it…I’m getting a headache just thinking about it 🙂
yes and the smell of chlorine, may the goddess forgive you…
That picture says it all ….. haha!
oh gosh I’d agree, the water skiing was a breeze, compared to getting into and out of a wetsuit. I’m actually having heart palpitations just thinking about you in that fitting room. This brings back memories, or should I call them nightmares of the ‘rafting’ incident and trying to get into a wet – wetsuit, now that’s a saga in itself.
Well, I have since used my wetsuit and wetsuit top, they do protect you from the cold water (where you seriously have to push the ice bergs out of the way)…but have not attempted to put on a wet-wetsuit as yet. One swim per day is more than enough for me!!
That would be one too many for me… happy to be in the ocean when weather is boiling. Once came running out of surf (no not only time), and screamed (sensing the theme) because even without my glasses on I could see the huge stingray flapping near the shore…
Oh I’m all hot reading it and looking at the image. I went into a shop with Mick and the kids years ago looking at wetsuits. I never go in the water anyway so a second hand suit was seen to be effective. Only issue was the one I tried on had short sleeves and short legs, and because I was so hot and sweaty getting it on and off thought it was better than long legs and arms. WRONG.
My screams of pain at the cold water started before I actually touched it. Got picked up by Mick and carried into the surf, screams getting louder and louder. The kids were killing themselves laughing but I was beside myself. Hit the water hard and deep, the wetsuit now the least of my worries. Getting a breath was my priority. Rose like a whale leaping at seaworld still screaming while Mick and the kids ran for cover.
Resolved that the wetsuit is the least of my issues, and the screaming can be piercing like a weapon that I know how to use.
I can kind of hear that scream…it’s sort of like the scream they use on those ‘hair-straightener’ ad’s on TV hahahahaha
More like the piercing screams of the soon to be murder victim, or the woman at the top of the big dipper knowing she has nowhere to go – except down – bloody fast…