It was a dark and stormy night.  Okay, it was actually a really nice day but that’s besides the point.  After setting up my kit and swimming my 4 laps like usual, it was time to get suited up.  I found the biggest trash bag, I mean dry suit, and start putting it on.  Since I was already wet, it was a hell of a time getting into the dry suit.  After 5 minutes trying to  get at least my waist into the dry suit, I was already ready to give up.  But Grandpa Lenny wasn’t having it.  He made me insert my arms into the sleeves and then started stretching the neck seal and told me to put my head through the hole.  After my head finally got through, I felt like I was being choked.  In all honesty, once I got into the water THE FIRST TIME, I actually really enjoyed it.  Floating around on the surface like the Michelin Man was actually really entertaining.  But once it was time to go underwater, all hell broke loose.  Fast forward to when I was underwater.  As I kept descending, I felt like I was being sucked by a vacuum, it felt as if I was in a space bag.  Then as I kept putting air in my dry suit, the air would continuously rush to my feet, causing me to ascend feet first.  In the corner of my eye I witnessed Grandpa Lenny laugh at my misery and in that moment, I knew that I HATED DRY SUITS.