awkward and a bit embarrassing

Last night night I went to the swimming pool, by myself, for the first time. I got there about 9 pm and all the lanes were full...with the swim team. Serious swimmers. So I scooted down to the far lane and asked the two swimmers there if I could share the lane with them. They were nice and said sure and then asked me a question in swimmers code. The blank stare on my face gave away that I didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. So they tried again, in english, "Do you want to take one half of the lane and we'll take the other?" Oh, sure...but I informed them that I needed the lane closest to the wall because I am learning how to swim and still have a tendency to run into things. We all laughed. Me, because I was serious, and they, because they thought I was kidding. Well, my assigned workout for the night was 4x50 meters. I had to ask my lovely lane neighbors what a "50" was. Down and back was 50 meters. So I swam my first one and made it most of the way back before I was breathing underwater and coughing when I was supposed to be breathing. The second 50 was not much better. But by the third and fourth I made it all the way without getting any water up my nose! So with my resting in between laps, it took me a half an hour to do 200 meters. The triathlon is 500 meters. I've got a bit of work to do!



After I finished swimming I went into ye old community shower. Not being a die hard, I remained "suited". As I was washing my hair another lady (Whom I shall refer to as Mrs. Poatohead) came in and loudly exclaimed, "Whew! I'm getting to old for that!" and assumed the shower directly behind me. I had finished washing my hair and was reaching for my conditioner, but it shot out of my hand and across the shower landing at the foot of Mrs. Potatohead. I yelled, "WOAH!" (probably much louder than was necessary since my ears were waterlogged) as I turned around to pick up my conditioner. Just a millisecond too late I realized that Mrs. Potatohead was no longer "suited" and I had just yelled "WOAH!" at her naked body, but actually at my flying bottle of conditioner. It's kind of hard to crack a joke or talk yourself out of a situation like that when you are afraid to turn back around, let alone make eye contact. So I snagged my conditioner, mumbled a weak, "Heh, heh, guess that got away from me..." and then bolted. Hopefully she's not a regular. That would be a painfully awkward reunion.