Sunday's Olympic triathlon training in Paris made a splash for all the wrong reasons—canceled due to Seine pollution levels higher than a Parisian's caffeine intake, organizers hope for cleaner waters by Tuesday.

Despite spending €1.4bn to improve the Seine’s water quality, Paris officials scrambled as unforeseen rainfall turned the river into something resembling post-apocalyptic espresso. Triathlon events are still slated to commence Tuesday, leaving organizers to play limnologists at 4 a.m. daily while American triathletes embrace their inner microbiologist. With running and cycling continuing unfazed, everyone is crossing their fingers (or plugging their noses) for a cleaner dive into the historic river.

The hurried efforts to control the pollution are at odds with the immense financial investment Paris has made in recent years. Over €1.4bn has already been sunk—pardon the pun—into elevating the Seine to swimmable standards. This grand figure included, among other things, the construction of a 46,000 cubic meter storage basin intended to manage overflows, which evidently needs to up its game against mother nature and modern urbanization.

Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo herself took a highly-publicized dip in the Seine to quell any watery apprehensions. A move which, considering recent events, seems both bold and soggy with irony. The Mayor's plunge, aimed at showcasing the city's confidence in their water purification endeavors, feels somewhat undermined by this impromptu pollution spike, courtesy of heavier-than-expected rainfall over the last couple of days.

Experts, those early-risers forging new definitions of dedication and dark circles, have convened each morning at around 4am to scrutinize the water quality levels before shouting 'aye' or 'nay'. Their vigilance is particularly crucial given that this is the first Olympic event involving swimming in the Seine since 1900. The river hasn’t deemed itself fit for public swimming since 1923, and this current misadventure does little to foster an optimistic Troy comeback narrative.

The men's triathlon race, the kickoff to this multistage water-cycling-running endeavor, is scheduled for Tuesday. But nature, ever the unpredictable attendee, has caused not just a hiccup but a full-blown allergic reaction. Intensified by heavy rainfall, Paris's sewage discharges into the Seine have only added to the brewing tempest in a teapot—which, if current conditions serve as any guide, might more appropriately be a grimy soup pot.

Despite Sunday's setback, organizers remain steadfast—if not somewhat aquatically hopeful—that water conditions will be palatable enough come Tuesday. They continue with preparations for the event's running and cycling sections, both of which have, so far, been mercifully spared from the woes of aquatic contaminants.

'Plan B' is floating around, a potential delay of the triathlon by a day. Meanwhile, 'Plan C' contemplates omitting the swim stage altogether, essentially turning this triple-threat event into a duathlon of less hydrophiliac pursuits. Scott Schnitzspahn noted these potential pivots should the Seine refuse to cooperate with sanitation expectations.

In an interesting twist on pre-race training diets, American triathlete Seth Rider is determinedly confronting the Seine's bacterial villainy head-on. Rider has concocted an E. coli-prep routine to presumably usher his immune system into superhero status.

The atmospheric skepticism doesn’t extend just within the athlete's circles. Officials have maintained that all possible measures are being enacted to curb sewage discharges, particularly during such periods of uncooperative weather. Their claims, while assuring, resemble shutting a stable door post-horse escape when juxtaposed with the river’s current state of aquatic rebellion.

The tension laces through this lead-up like a thread in a Parisian couture gown—the result, less fashionable and more frantic. Paris officials and triathlon organizers are collectively crossing fingers and toes for the Seine to clear up for some good old-fashioned competitive splashing, come Tuesday.