My favorite exercise over the years has always been swimming. Yes, I have dabbled in other forms of exercise like jogging and zumba, but I always find my way back to swimming because we have history together. And as the title implies our history has not always been drama free. In fact, nowhere else in my entire life have I experienced humiliation like I have at a swimming pool. And although it has been years since I had an episode such as explosions of mucus or a
This evening when I arrived at my gym I frantically shoved my belongings into the locker slammed it shut, programmed my locker with my secret code and half walked/ran to the pool. I have this irrational fear that if I don't get to the pool as quickly as possible after arriving at the gym someone will take the last lane and I will have to wait for someone to leave so I can workout. It makes no logical sense, but there you have it.
So I have a decent workout and go to redeem my items from my locker. I punch in my lock code and nothing happens. Oops, wrong locker. I try a a different locker, nothing. I decide to shower and try again afterwards, as if that would change something. To my surprise it did change something. Instead of desperately trying to open my locker in a bathing suit I was now trying to open my locker while holding a towel around my naked self. And as I try over and over again the locker room starts to fill up with women getting changed for water aerobics. The more time I take trying to open this locker the more women start pouring in. Realizing it was a futile task I ask a woman to go to the counter and find someone to help me.
The gym employee comes in and asks for my secret code and starts punching the code in the keypad. I have been at the gym for over a year so I am pretty confident I know how to punch numbers on a keypad, but who was I, naked and cold, to judge. She then starts questioning me, "are you sure this is your locker?", "Are you sure it was on this wall?", Are you sure it was on the top row?" At this point I don't know anything anymore except that my naked confused self is providing a lot of entertainment to the other naked women in the locker room.
Finally, after I promised ten times and swore up and down that locker 122 was indeed the locker that contained my clothes (even though I had NO clue if that was true) she punched in her master code and opened the locker. Low and behold, it was my locker. Half the women cheered, it was that big of a deal. A couple murmured that was their worst fear, and eventually everyone left to their class.
And so now I have learned several lessons over the years: Don't try to retrieve mucus out of a pool, frumpy bathing suits are the way to go, and pay attention when locking up your belongings.