I was correct that last week’s swim meet would result in me
missing a day of writing. (Or two) It wasn’t for lack of trying though. I
actually sat down on Friday – after running 9 miles early in the morning on the
heels of 6 miles the day before – with a post in mind, but my brain was on overdrive. It’s not something that I
necessarily dislike – it’s energizing – but it’s not conducive to focusing on
one thing and writing it down coherently. Nor does it promote sitting for long
periods of time.
I did the same yesterday – sat down and started writing --
but then life got in the way. Well, not in
the way…more like it rolled by and I had to jump on board. I needed to do
things like finish work from the weekend and pick up kids from school and take
them to swim practice and go to the grocery store. These are all things that I’m
grateful to be able to do so it’s not fair to say they “got in the way.” They
just happened.
Our swim meet this weekend was eventful. If I was to
summarize it in one sentence, I would say that technology is our friend…until
it’s not our friend. And that’s when
it really helps to have humanoid friends.
As meet director, I am sort
of in charge but not really. I mean, I’m volunteering for our kids’ swim
team…the visiting coaches and the swimmers are our customers. The meet referee
and our head coach make the determinations about things like format, event
order, but the logistics are up to me and the rest of the parents and the
coaching staff. We have to get it done and I have – thankfully – the best bunch
of parents and coaches to rely upon in organizing this endeavor.
I was ahead of the game this time. This is my third year to
be meet director and I felt pretty calm about everything being ready –
volunteers in place, concessions and hospitality in very capable and
enthusiastic hands, heat sheets ready on time, everything prepped for the
swimmers, coaches, and parents who would be visiting from 9 other teams in the
area. But I also had this underlying anxiety that if things felt ready, there
was a chance that I had forgotten something huge.
The good news is that I hadn’t…the bad news is that no
matter how ready things actually are,
chaos is called chaos for a reason and your well-ordered event can still end up
in disorder and confusion. Now – as chaos
goes, it was the best kind, because it was mostly invisible
chaos. The kids swam, other than a late heat sheet for one of the boys’
events, we managed to keep things moving which is our goal.
The contingency plan for any meet in which the software goes
haywire is -- get the kids through their races, capture the times in whatever
manner you can, and fix all the problems later when everyone goes home. Because at a swim meet – unlike in life – we
can always fix the problems.
So, we had our own little “Rise of the Machines” revolt by
our trusted meet management software which basically meant we had to rebuild a
database by hand. Which we did. And then the evening session worked fine. And then
the computers let us down again on Sunday morning.
Between that and all the usual issues (a couple of rude parents,
a coach or two that is never satisfied with anything, a few parent volunteers
who didn’t bother to show up), it was like a waterfall of sewage cascading over
my shoulders all weekend. And all I could do with my partner in crime, Kim, (and
the other people who stopped in with offers of liquor – which we declined – and
chocolate – which we accepted) was just keep moving through it (with my mouth
mostly closed) and hope that there would be a shower to clean off all the poop
at the end.
And there was.
Now, it’s all a distant memory and…like childbirth…the pain
is forgotten and I will totally subject myself to the possibility of it all
happening again in January. Because the bottom line is that I enjoy it…even the
chaos…and it is appreciated by others. I really can’t complain about getting to do something that I
enjoy and having 99% of the people for whom I’m doing it, thank me for it. That seems like a dream job. Even if it is a
volunteer gig.
Oh – and that 1% can suck it, because it is a volunteer job and we all did our
best. And at the end of the day, we
all have to remember that it is a swim meet. Yes, this is important to kids
with goals – of making the cut for big meets or swimming in college – so we do
our best to make sure the swimmer’s experience is our number 1 priority. But I
will not lose any sleep over a parent not receiving notifications because their
Meet Mobile app isn’t updating or a coach being disappointed over them running
out of free chicken minis in the
hospitality suite.
Yes those things really happen.
There were kids who swam their first meet this weekend…kids
who broke a meet record…one who broke an 18-year old team record…and others who
felt what it’s like to swim so hard that you can’t get out of the pool without
help. I think being a part of the infrastructure that helped that happen is
pretty awesome. And I could be really angry with the parent who thought was ok
to berate and shove another parent who
was working to keep the deck safe for swimmers and free of unauthorized personnel,
but instead, I’ll just be sad for them…that they couldn’t keep it all in
perspective.
Perspective is remembering that while we were inside the
climate-controlled natatorium watching our kids swim, there were parents in
Afghanistan searching in earthquake rubble for their children.
Perspective is remembering that while we were cheering for
our kids as they swum in a (fairly) clean swimming pool, there were parents in
Mexico huddling together with their children in fear of the storm surge from
Hurricane Patricia.
Perspective is remembering that while we were celebrating
the many victories of our healthy children this weekend, there are parents in Oklahoma
grieving the loss of their two-year-old who will never learn to swim, or run,
or play basketball, or the violin or anything else after being run down by an
alleged drunk driver.
And I could go on.
So…despite the time infringement, the chaos, and the 1% who
need a reality check, I will just look back on the last 4 days and see each of them
for the gift they were. And I’ll let the rest just wash back into the sewer.
Where it will be waiting for me next time.
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