A DAD'S LIFE:She's calculating the hours when I'll be elsewhere, writes ADAM BROPHY
‘SO, THIS half-Ironman thingy. Will the training be as ‘vigorous’ as for a marathon?” she asks. I’m lying in bed, trying to read, but recognise the tone. The question will have to be addressed, but do it delicately, I tell myself. “Vigorous” may not actually mean “divisive for our family” as I presume it does. Just be gentle.
“What do you mean by ‘vigorous’? There’ll probably be a bit more time required than the marathon training. Y’know, three sports, have to do something for each one at least twice a week, sometimes more, races every few weeks, driving to the lake Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’ll be busy, but I’ll make myself available too.”
I’m mumbling and, because I’ve finally looked up from the book, can see she’s stopped listening. She’s calculating hours when I’ll be elsewhere. Playing with my friends.
“It’s okay . I’ve been through the marathon training a few times . We’ll manage .”
“Look,” I say, laying book down, assuming reasonable, caring face, “I’ll do as much as possible in the mornings. I’ll be out of bed, without waking anyone, first thing and back for breakfast. Some evenings, okay, I’ll have to get out too. And Saturdays and Sundays. Long runs and bikes, you know how it is.”
“So what you’re telling me is you’ll be gone mornings, evenings and weekends.”
“Yeah, kind of. There’ll be races as well, and I might have to overnight for them.” Ah jayz, that was out before it should have been. This isn’t sounding like it should. “But you guys can come. It could be fun . . . ”
She grimaces. We tried that last year and while, for the most part, it worked out, the idea of standing with kids in the rain while I drag myself from river to bike to run isn’t how she wants to spend her weekends.
The kids have less interest. For a while they offered support but once the cracks began to show, the facade crumbled startlingly quickly. They can’t get worked up over me coming in 125th in a field of 250, try as they might. Kids are competitive.
It started with a whispered aside by the elder to her mother: “Is dad doing another race? Don’t tell him, but they’re boring.” She told me immediately, with much glee. And that was as good as it got. Any suggestion afterwards was met with a “Noooo, we don’t want to go there.”
I play the health card. I hark back to when weekends involved abuse and recovery, a cycle of pain and pleasure that did nobody any favours but the local painkiller peddler. This gets me into more trouble. She inquires if I’ll be teetotal for the duration of the summer, seeing as the training is going to demand so much of my time.
I’m not sure if she wants me to say yes or no, so counter with a vague notion that blowing off steam is always required to maintain interest in any endeavour.
“Now you’re telling me you’ll be training all the time, taking off for race weekends, then going on the lash whenever a window of opportunity arises.”
She has no idea how brilliant that sounds as a template for a summer. I quell the urge to high five her and instead assure that, no, I have no desire to just “go on the lash”. But I will be looking forward to us having time together and socialising with friends in between concentrating on my physical wellbeing.
At the same time, and I am adamant about this, when I focus in on one thing it reminds me how much family means to me and I will insist that we make the most of the time available to us.
She looks me in the eye and knows. Response: “You’re so full of crap.”
I’m not really, just a little bit. I’ve paid €200 for the privilege of next September lining up in Galway with 2,000 other punters to swim 1.9km, bike 90km and then run 21.1km. It’s ludicrous, but if I’m going to put myself through that pain I may as well be prepared for it.
The women in my life are used to watching me huff on a turbo trainer in the living room while they build lego. They’re smirking at my protein shakes and recovery drinks and chicken breasts for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Smirk away. This athlete is aiming for a top half finish and big ambitions require sacrifice.