Thursday, 20 August 2009

Murphy’s law

When we arrived at the pool this morning we were faced with some shocking news. Here we were, thinking that we were in Denmark, a lovely place with a kind and welcoming population throughout. Turns out was is not quite true, after all, and we had somehow been transported to a far rougher climate, where people break into places and steel 50 000 Euros worth of equipment over night. All the cameras were gone, the big TV screens where results were posted, every computer in the place, everything. What amazed all of the competitors was the level of calm kept by the organizers in this situation, and the competition got under way with only one hour delay, so no good excuse material there, really.

Now I know how I have been going on and on about how I don’t like static. Although I have been busy convincing myself that I feel the love, this is still not quite the case. My cunning plan (my friend Roland might have called it wishful thinking) was to make it to the final in dynamic no fins, thus to have a perfectly good reason to ditch the static, thus getting out of doing any nasty statics during this event. As things go, it all turned out differently, and I ended up holding my breath for 5:40 this morning, much helped by Jesper, who calmed down the rushes of nerves that were hitting me while I was having my contractions. I had asked him to also protect me from judge Linda, who, as Murphy’s law would have it, actually ended up in my lane this time. She is wearing a card around her neck that says “piss off” on it, which she shows to the athlete when she simply cannot find any reason to give him a red card. This I can live with.

Next, I went on to coach my training buddy Elisabeth, who has had her brother on her heels with 5:19, so my mission was to make sure that she would beat him. This was easily accomplished, so I was telling her that she should beat me, next, and she went on to do 6:02, thus pushing me out of the A final into the B final. Oh well. Bad news is, I will have to do static again, tomorrow morning. Oh no!

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