Dream

The first event - the wee.  The starter's pistol bangs, everyone points into the urinal and golden streams begin to flow.  Except mine.  I have stage fright, unable to produce.  I look around frantically, but I'm the only one with a problem.  Competitors, finished already, start heading for the door.  Gradually I coax a few small drops out, and find myself in last place as I head to the forest.

In the forest, the field scrambles around vines and roots, pushing through leafy undergrowth. I'm not even sure what the event is.  Everyone else appears to be looking for something, but I don't know what. I climb a tree anyway, just to look like I know what I'm doing.  I sit there a while, perplexed and nervous, while underneath me others stride with purpose, out of the undergrowth and off towards the beach.  Once everyone has gone, I climb down and follow.

The beach is wide and flat, the sand damp and compacted. In the middle stands a blue desk, behind which a man serves wetsuits like a cloakroom attendant.  I join a queue.  As I get to the front of the queue, I realise that everyone else already has their wetsuit in the cloakroom - I, on the other hand, failed to think about doing so.  I get to the desk.

"What number, mate?"

"Errr, I don't know"

The man looks at me quizzically. My heart races as I try and fail to think about what I should do next.  I notice the rest of the field already in the water and making headway.

There is a delicate tap on my arm, and I come to.

"Daddy, I had a bad dream".

I am grateful for the rescue.