In Which Meredith Meets Her Underwaterloo

My first day of lifeguard training was today. I probably should have known what to expect, but I didn't--at the very least being that I should have been wearing a swimming suit, which I was not. I don't even own one. The last time I needed one was at 10:30 pm at Wal-Mart on an August weeknight last summer. They closed the fitting rooms at 10, and I'd be damned if I had to shuck out $10 for a tacky, picked-over, mismatched, clearance-rack bathing suit I'd only be using once, if I couldn't even try it on.

Heather let me borrow her spare suit.

We have to pass a number of tests in order to become a Certified Lifeguard. There is a written exam on rules, procedures, techniques, and judgement calls. There's also a skills test, where you have to demonstrate various rescues, holds, and necessary fundamentals. One of these requires us to swim to the twelve-foot deep end, retrieve a brick from the bottom, and swim it back to the other side.

I can run a 5k without stopping for breath, I can bicycle twenty miles without getting too fatigued, but for the life or death of me, as much as I tried, I wasn't able to touch the bottom of the deep end. I have until next Saturday. The worst-case scenario is that I'd only be able to guard the wading pools in the parks, which would throw a few kinks into my schedule and leave the aquatic center without another full lifeguard at their facilities. But I'm not going to let that happen. I may swallow water; but it will not swallow me.

Come Saturday, that brick is mine.