Bare Butt kicked...

My tally of treading water in the Reservoir hit 4 in one day.
Fu*k, I'm pissed.
The wind today was so strong, it blew the paddle out of my hand. Unbelievable. Coupled with the wave that was amplified by the speedboat and the incessant wind, it was more than enough to throw a brave but actually pitiful canoeist off his canoe and into the frigging waters. And it did. Was it the 140 pushups that paved the way for my untimely demise among the skilled?
Maybe.
I was supposed to row 6 km, i.e. up and down the reservoir 3 times. I only managed 4. The first round was splendid. I actually thought i did well. My strokes were even and brought me through really fast to the last line of buoys, my blade cutting the water smoothly. There were a few close shaves where I nearly went over, but my waist did the most of the balancing. I was almost amazed at the way I finished, sleekly into the launching point.
Then I was off on my second lap. I went strongly, staring at my Nike neoprene...having the distinct feeling of assurance, rising from something unseen...probably ignorance?
Somehow it quelled the suppressed dread that there was a sorta Loch Ness type creature lurking in the green depths of Bedok Reservoir or that some idiot released a baby crocodile into the expanse of water 10 years earlier...
I stuck my right side blade in-the wind smacked the left blade, and as levers go, it took me over the edge. Capsizing occurs always in slow-mo. I go-am I gonna cap? Oh fu-blubblubblub...I'm already in the water. And I tried to have my darling 2.08 metres paddle upright, my feet dangling below. The waves pounded and slapped me from the left so much that I gave it the back of my head to hit. I was thirsty before I went over, but then the waves made me happy, in a throaty kinda way.
XUEK and KAIR came over on their T-2 to try and get me back on my yellow TROPICAL. They failed because-well I dunno. They just failed, and the next thing, they were in the water with me. And there we were, adrift. Far from human assistory reach and frantically trying to keep together and not get snared by the unknown beastie residing in the depths.
Ahmad came over to rescue me, and I barely rowed a bit, before the waves did me in again. The wind was so strong and the waves-tall that when I was turning to face the correct side, I plooonked into greenness again...
It took a senior and an escort to get me across the third quarter line, and when he thought I was stable enough, he dashed forth.
And I went over. This time. Further and even more alone.
And I waited, and a VJC K-2 came over.

mr. frontman: Do you need help?
me: (duh, but-) Can you help me?

At this point, the bugger tries to come over but he and his comrade nearly capped twice. They couldn't come over and so-

mr. frontman: I'm sorry but we can't help you.
me: !!!???
mr. frontman: We'll help you call people to help you.
me: !!!!!??? (you frigging noobs.)

And off they went towards the launch-point. I was so riled, I laid my right hand on my canoe and towed in with my froggy kick all the way half-across. I passed 1 line of buoys. And my legs felt like they already had been eaten away. I was baring my mind to go further when this Senior came over to help. She got me up and I slowly went back to shore...
It was a lousy day and the water was choppy like hell had burst open all its fury onto this Earth when Satan's butt just got majorly kicked by the LORD GOD.

The day reaped only aches and rage. And my prior goodfeel in the water on last wednesday is almost gone. NAB! ...

BLUBBLUBBLUB...