Trying on a Wetsuit (with the gracefulness of a gazelle...a very, very drunk gazelle)

If you've ever bought a wetsuit then you will be familiar with the following experience.  If you haven't, then hold onto your socks (which you really should do when putting on a wetsuit); you're in for a treat!

After finishing the triathlon in a stellar, yet memorable manner, I decided to put down the money for a triathlon wetsuit.  This suit is different from a diving or surfing suit because it has long sleeves that allow for flex in the shoulders.  This means that you can do front crawl (or freestyle for those in the know) without giving yourself a super-atomic wetsuit wedgie.

Now I have to tell you that I had been pretty stubborn about paying good money for this thing that I wouldn't be using all that often, but I reasoned that a brand-new wetsuit is actually much cheaper than a trip to the ER! (Woohoo!)

Dave decided that if I was still rubbing enough brain cells together to decide to do the triathlon AGAIN, then he would help me out by training with me.  For the record, this had absolutely nothing to do, in any way whatsoever, with him feeling like I might accomplish something he hadn't...at all.  He wasn't feeling competitive in the least...nope. Not. At. All.

Aaaaannnnyyway, we went off to the athletic shop and talked to the guys about our purchasing needs.  They found a suit for Dave first and he went to change.  He was out and suited up within two minutes, looking race-ready.  The man at the store went over to help him but, despite having never worn this type of wetsuit before,

the fit was perfect.  To my recollection, his response was simply:

*The first person to tell me what inspired that picture will be named in the next post, with a description of, and a link to, your blog!  EDIT: If you don't have a blog you can still guess and I will write something nice about you at the start of my next post :D

Now it was my turn.  I stripped down to my swimsuit and socks and got down to work. I got one wetsuit leg over my ankle and started to feel a little *prickly*.  Once I had both suit legs up to my calves I was breathing heavily and sweating like a hippo at high noon.

Dave managed to hear my deep breathing exercises from the middle of the store and came over to offer help.   If you've ever  worn a wetsuit you may be familiar with the "garbage bag" technique.  This involves having a friend pull on either side of the zipper at your back to ensure that everything sits just-so right before you zip up.

Dave's interpretation of this strategy was  *slightly* different, as he employed it a little earlier on in the suiting up process:

I believe his thought process involved shaking me down into the suit, like you would when putting a head of lettuce into a plastic bag that is sticking together.

I think the sales guy may have been a little worried.

I can't imagine why.

When Dave put me down, I gently told him:

I then proceeded on with much, um, lady-like, tugging and grunting in order to get the suit up to my arms.  At this point Dave was ready to help again to position the shoulders.


Say, does anyone remember the politically incorrectly named game "Indian Sunburn" from your childhood?  Now sprinkle in a heavy dose of pinching and...What's that?  You want to go test it out on your significant other?  Okay, go ahead, I'll wait... Oh, you're back. Wow, you seem much happier.  Well anyway, now you know what it's like to pull the shoulders of your wetsuit into place.

I finally ventured out into the store and the sales guy gave me a few final tips about *daintily* getting the suit into place.

And that's all there is to it.  Easy peasy.

TUNE IN NEXT WEEK FOR THE FIRST WETSUIT SWIM


(AND FOR ALL YOU RUNNERS, HAVE NO FEAR.  THERE WILL BE RUNNING POSTS IN A FEW WEEKS WHEN I DISCUSS MY  FIRST HALF MARATHON!)