The Swim Meet Will Go On and On ...

We returned from a family cruise on July 1, just hours after our house regained power. To strains of the Titanic movie's theme running through my head, I cleared the refrigerator/freezer of rotting food: "My heart will go on and on ..."

We were out of town on Saturday June 30, so my kids were not scheduled to be in that day's swim meet. Of course without electricity from the high storm on June 29, pools could not operate and the swim meet was postponed to Tuesday July 3 ... and my kids could swim in it after all, yay!

The rescheduled swim meet began at 6pm under blazing sun. By around 8pm, two-thirds of the way into the meet, dark clouds rolled in and a lifeguard heard a distant rumble of thunder. Grumbling, the parents and swimmers obediently shuffled into the clubhouse to wait. After the required 30 minutes of thunder/lightning-free (but now more ominous) skies, we resumed the meet, hurrying swimmers through 3 breaststroke heats when everyone heard a second, even louder roll of thunder. Back to the clubhouse everyone regrouped to wait. After just 10 minutes, we groaned at a third crackle of thunder and officials decided to postpone the rest of the meet to the next morning, July 4 at 7:45am.

My kids were still jet-lagged (having returned from Alaska less than 48 hours earlier) as we drove back to the pool early the next morning under gray clouds. Raindrops began drizzling on the windshield. Would we ever be able to finish this swim meet?

Luckily, the rain let up gradually. When I commented, "Great, the rain is lightening up!" another parent jokingly admonished, "Don't say anything involving 'lightening'!"

Around 8:30am, we finally lost (I think -- at this point who cared? Just kidding :) the meet. Unlike Celion Dion's voice still ringing in my head, the swim meet did not "go on and on".