Our kids are falling behind in the one race in life that really matters

LAST Monday I set out to demonstrate to my kids the adage that there is no such thing as bad weather which should dissuade physical activity, merely unsuitable clothing.

A gale was whipping up in Killarney and the rain had started to fall, but I insisted we were going for a walk around the National Park out at Muckross. My children, not a teen among them, began openly to question my sanity. Why were they expected to go out in this weather? What had gotten into me? That’s when I threw the mantra at them, to be met with eyes rolling. I was not to be deterred.

First I brought them to a newly-opened outfitters and kitted them and myself out with the necessary rainwear that they and I didn’t already have. Then we drove out to the park kitted out and left my wife — who only indulges me to a point — and youngest in the car to wait for us. She didn’t expect we’d be long.