Creepy

So last night a friend posted on Facebook that she wanted someone to go kayaking with her today. I was so there.

The unfortunate thing about having pulled off a feat like running a marathon is you start to think you're invincible or something. We took off in the kayaks on the lake. I was a little less than enthusiastic about the particular lake, given that it has a terrible reputation for being polluted and dirty and a dumping ground for all kinds of nasty things—as well as a habitat for alligators and poisonous snakes. However, my person was not actually going to be in the lake.

Well ...

Everything started out fine, I guess. I couldn't figure out why my kayak insisted on veering to the left the entire time, but I just used my buff muscles to keep it in check. It's kind of a windy day, but I love wind, and waves are pretty cool too.

We got pretty far out, and then found a little cove where the water was calm. That was actually when I started to get nervous, because we kept seeing little circles of bubbles, and both of us felt something (not a rock) bang against our oars at some point.

I was glad to be heading back, even though it was against the wind.

A heavy wind combined with a rather large wave, and this clumsy redhead fell into the lake. The middle of it. Nowhere near the shore. Actually, that was probably a good thing, as I didn't want to risk a run-in with any water moccasins or alligators.

Panic at a time like that can kind of paralyze you. The odd thing is I don't usually panic. Unless large bodies of water are involved. I'm steeling myself for the nightmares I'm going to have tonight. Okay, I take that back. I do panic. I remember beginning to panic last week when I thought for a moment a friend and I were stuck in an elevator. But not nearly as much as I panicked when I fell into the lake and started drowning.

I used to be enough of a swimmer to keep myself alive. I also used to float a lot more easily. I'm going to take that latter as proof that my body fat percentage has been drastically reduced.

The bottom line is, there I was in the middle of the lake, drowning. I don't know how one climbs back into a kayak in the middle of a lake, so I did what any reasonable person would do—I screamed for help. But I have one of those voices that don't carry. At all. When I used to want to get the attention of my middle school kids, I'd raise my pitch rather than my volume. You can't raise your pitch when you're drowning in a lake. After two or three attempts to call out to my friend, she turned back and saw that I was in the middle of the lake.

The only thing I could do was grab on to the back of her kayak, leave mine behind, and try to row back to shore. After about 30 minutes (during which I clung to a hook on the back of her kayak, floating on my back with my legs hooked around the back of it and desperately terrified I was either going to swallow some of the nasty lake water or be attacked by an alligator), we got to a place with a ladder up to a little dock. A really nice man gave us a ride back to where we parked.

Just a few more problems. First, I was going into hypothermia. I think. When my friend suggested that, I laughed, but apparently it's not a laughing matter. Even after a very hot shower and some dry clothes, my lips were blue and I couldn't stop shaking. Second problem, the kayak.

When it dumped me out, it also dumped my flip-flops. Can you imagine being a boater, going out onto the lake and seeing a tumped-over kayak and a pair of foam flip-flops? I'd be worried there was a body nearby. So the police were called, and they referred my friend to the Lake Patrol, who very kindly made sure everyone was okay then went out in their boat to fetch the abandoned kayak.

About the time she went to meet them and get it back, I had finally stopped shivering and relaxed enough to have some fruit snacks and watch Spirited Away.

I'm really looking forward to summertime, when the livin' is easy.