Exercising our rights to a proper physical education
Fortunately, I don’t tend to dwell on the big things in life. It’s the more trivial matters that bug me. About five years ago, I discovered the joy of the bike. And if I had to live my life over again, I wouldn’t wait so long before realising the pleasure of two wheels and the open road.
The cynics have already labelled me as yet another MAMIL (Middle-Aged Man In Lycra). I have no defence. My only response is: ‘Guilty as charged, but can we compromise and make it, MIL?’ But faced with the choice of spending a Saturday morning in lycra or a shopping centre, I’ll gladly choose the former.
A group of us go out every weekend. Last Saturday, we headed for the Sperrins and the summit of Slieve Gallion. With a blue sky, clear roads and a blanket of snow covering the slopes, it made for a scenic climb.
Later, when we descended onto the flat roads of South Derry, the usual embarrassing amount of energy was expended on the sprints to the 30-mile-per-hour signs located outside various towns (the delicate balance that lies between a good or average weekend can hinge on the number of sprints won on a Saturday morning).
Although I only discovered cycling recently, I consider myself lucky to have always enjoyed other sports. Some people aren’t so fortunate. At 37, a friend recently found out she loves running. Never mind that she is a junkie for the ‘runner’s high’, she has also found out to the amazement of everyone who knows her, that she is quite good at her new hobby.
This Sunday she will take part in the Connemara half-marathon. But how can someone live 37 years without being aware of the pleasures of such a simple activity like running? The answer will no doubt be familiar to many readers. At my friend’s primary school, the girls’ PE consisted of hoops and skipping ropes.
At secondary school, it was camogie. Because my friend wasn’t particularly good at camogie, she left school thinking that she hated PE.
I know plenty of fellas who endured a similar experience. PE was two sports: Gaelic football and cross-country running. The latter option only employed when the pitch was frozen.
This ice-age approach to PE was standard practice 20 years ago. However, anyone who thinks things have changed is sadly mistaken.
The obese adults of tomorrow are leaving many schools today believing they are no good at sport, and worse again, that they don’t enjoy it. Eye-to-foot coordination is only one aspect of one sport.
Perhaps as a result of my own experiences, I also left school with the mistaken idea that being good at sport meant being good at football. I got a rude awakening at university. After seeing my friend Roger trying to play football, I automatically consigned him into the ‘not sporty’ camp.
Nevertheless, when Roger asked if I wanted to play racquetball, I charitably agreed. I hadn’t the heart to tell him it would be a bit of a mismatch but yours truly got well and truly whipped.
While Roger’s sporting ability didn’t extend below his knees, he had superb hand-eye coordination. Fortunately he went to a school with a handball alley.
However, the main problem with PE in most schools is the obsession with talent. While anyone who advocates academic selection is now in danger of being tarred-and-feathered for being “elitist,” the selection and training of only the best footballers is par for the course.
This is inherently wrong. For starters, it’s gross bad practice that PE teachers are often allowed to concentrate solely on one sport. Imagine a home economics teacher who only taught pupils how to prepare one meal or an English teacher who only taught drama.
The role of the modern PE teacher should be to introduce children to as many sports as possible. I witnessed the benefits of this type of approach. Although my former PE teacher, Adrian McGuckin, was a former county footballer, he also played club rugby for Dungannon.
One day Adrian brought out an oval ball and we played a game of rugby. For one of my classmates, it was a coming-of-age experience. A strong sprinter, he had zero skill. When we played football, he usually stood in goals.
Lacking that option in rugby, he tried to stay out away from the main action. But when the ball was flung to him, we watched a magical transformation. A squat figure with tree-trunk thighs, he was like a raging bull. Unstoppable, he scored try after try. A star was born.
The following week he joined the local rugby club.
But that’s an uncommon story. How many children left school not realising they had a gift for a certain sport? Martyn Irvine is a more typical example. The first Irishman to win a World Track Championship in 116 years, he loathed PE. Only after he left school did he get into cycling.
Ultimately, it’s about enjoyment. The girl who despises camogie might love zumba. And the stocky boy who lacks the pace might be a demon in the scrum.
We live in an age when health organisations are telling us an obesity epidemic is coming. Depression is now a common complaint among teenagers and young adults. The doctors who prescribe anti-depressants for a runny nose aren’t exactly helping. While physical activity isn’t necessarily the solution, it will still help.
Even people with no mental health issues (I wouldn’t be so bold as to include myself among them) will attest to the sense of well being that often comes after a run, a bike ride or a circuits class.
The sooner people can feel this ‘buzz,’ the better chance they have of getting involved in sport. No-one should have to wait until they’re nearly 40 to experience a first ‘runner’s high’. But unless schools change their approach, another generation of children could be duped into thinking that they “hate PE”. That’s more than a shame. It’s nearly sinful.
