Thursday, November 4, 2010

Fist Bump of Horror (at last)

Sickening deja vu, I know. This post has been coming for quite some time.

But since you've all been waiting oh so patiently for this story, I'll give it to you. I apologize if it makes very little sense, it's been on the shelf of ideas in my brain for some time now. (Please bear in mind I was planning on posting this about a week and a half ago, so the story is a wee bit outdated)

During one of the swim practices, I was rather surprised when Dorothy- our coach- moved me up into one of the more intense lanes. Since I'm more or less the pansy of the guys team I don't normally PRACTICE with them, I'm with some of the girls in one of the side lanes.

Today however was different, as per the whims of Dorothy. This meant two things: one, my arms and legs would be functioning very poorly for the rest of the day, and I would be swimming with Tyler.

Now, what you have to realize about the mens swim team is that most of them are really intimidating. They're a great group of guys, and Tyler wouldn't intentionally do anything to scare/injure me, but having to stand next to him in the pool is along the same lines as putting a kid on a tricycle next to Bruce Wayne on his bat motorcycle thing.


So I figured that so long as I could remain a respectable distance behind him, I wouldn't be TOO humiliated by my failure to appear competent by comparison.

This proved to be quite the difficult task, however. Tyler is much better at swimming than I am, especially when we were doing pull sets (basically you just swim with your arms while wearing these paddles on your hands- they make you go a lot faster, but they take a bit of a toll on your shoulders). Having never done them before college, my arms are still rather unaccustomed to the effort. I was quite tired when the next set started.

I don't even fully remember what we were doing next, but one particular part sticks out in my mind:
I was swimming a little farther behind than before. Tyler had already done his turn and was heading back towards me. Right when we were about to pass each other, I had turned my head up to breathe, when I saw this headed right at me:

The most powerful thought going through my mind at the sight of Tylers fist was DEAR LORD I'M GOING TO HAVE A HOLE IN MY HEAD IN ABOUT ONE SECOND

Logically, there was only one way to avoid being killed. I had to punch him back.

Ok, obviously not just aim for his face. That would be terrible- "Brian! What the heck were you thinking??"
"I had to! Otherwise he'd have hit me! ..maybe."
"So.. you punched one of our best swimmers in the face... because he might have hit you. Brian, people get hit in swimming all the time!"
"Wait.. oh."

So I aimed for the giant fist headed my way, instead- and connected.

I somehow managed to keep scrambling my way down the pool, but my nervous system was totally convinced that I had destroyed my wrist. It was gone, probably reduced to dust. I would never be able to write an essay or take notes in class ever again.

Actually, hold that thought. I hate doing both of those...

I would never be able to hold a cheeseburger the right way or type normally again. The point being that I was now short one hand- at least, that was the way it registered.

The sad thing is that it didn't even hurt all that much afterwards. I had gone through a pretty medium level panic attack at what I thought would be a career ending injury, only to discover that my skeleton had responded positively to the thousands of gallons of milk I consumed in my youth. Reassuring in a sense, but the event was still wet-your-pants terrifying.

I mean, I normally pride myself on being a pretty big guy- I'm like 6'2" and I have a pretty broad frame- but Tyler is HUGE. He almost accidentally PUNCHED me. Think like Nick Nemeth is giving you a hug, trips somehow, and hammer drops you onto a sidewalk on your head. We're talking about a pretty terrifying level of "Sorry about atomizing your spine, man- promise it wasn't on purpose!"

I guess the moral of the story is that you should drink milk? Otherwise your hands might get shattered in freak punching accidents.


The reason it took so long to post this was because for some reason, when I saved the batman picture the first time, my computer decided to save every individual pixel i hadn't colored in as a different shade of white. Meaning I had to go in without the paintbucket tool and color the darn thing in myself, which I would get bored with rather quickly.

So, my apologies, but I don't want to devote an overwhelming amount of effort to my posts. That would be silly.

End Disclaimer

I get to register for classes for the next semester today! Hopefully I'll be able to get into the ones I picked out, otherwise I'm going to get stuck with a boatload of unhappy for the spring semester.

And no one likes unhappy.

1 comment:

  1. oooh; what classes are you taking? (/slash/ hoping to take)