A He-Man for all seasons – An Irishman’s Diary on the perils of exercise

It is that time of year again – when the lycra-clad amateur athletes and weekend warriors are to be seen on the pavements and roads of Ireland. They appear just before the swallows arrive. They are a sign of longer evenings and an indication that the message about exercise is getting through. We all need to be fit, right?

They say that exercise is good for you . . . so you play handball as much as you can until, one day, you are playing handball and you feel something tear within your leg. You look down at your left thigh, fully expecting blood to be pumping out of it in dramatic fashion. There is nothing to be seen – but you did feel something tear within you, like a sheet of paper ripping. You walk around a little. Yes, you have done something. You ring the physio and find you have torn an adductor. No handball for a couple of months.

Badminton

They say exercise is good for you . . . so you agree to play badminton with the Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman who asks for a game. If a Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman wants to play a bit of badminton with you, it would be rude for Gauche Ginger Nut Man to say no. But Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman actually knows how to play badminton and actually wants to play badminton while all Gauche Ginger Nut Man wants to do is knock about with Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman.

Still, it is only badminton. You play handball. How hard can it be to fake a bit of badminton? Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman casually moves the shuttlecock left and right, up and down the court, here and there, while Gauche Ginger Nut Man runs like a mad thing until, eventually, Gauche Ginger Nut Man actually manages to hit himself in the face with his own racket and blood pours out everywhere. “Are you all right?” asks Drop Dead Gorgeous Woman and Gauche Ginger Nut Man decides that he will not be asking her out.

They say that exercise is good for you . . . so you get a bike and cycle and cycle and cycle. You lose over half a stone over a couple of months. You are brilliant. You may be a Weekend Warrior but you could, probably, ramp it up a bit. Perhaps you should join a club. Yeah, that is a good idea. Join a club and do a bit of racing. While thinking about joining a club, you fall off your bike and break your radius. You go to hospital for surgery and are not allowed to cycle for months afterwards. The half stone is soon back.

Running

They say that exercise is good for you . . . so you take the children to the local running club. You might as well join in. Who wants to be a hurler on the ditch? You run. Not too much. You run a bit more. Your male brain takes over. You come over all He-Man. This is easy. You run and run and run. You tweak something. “Ignore it,” says He-Man. You ignore it. You wreck your Achilles tendon. You stop running. You recover. You run again. Gently. You lock He-Man up in Castle Grey Skull.

You keep running gently. You get a little less gentle. He-Man escapes. You wreck your other Achilles tendon.

They say that exercise is good for you... you just do a bit of rowing in the gym. You won’t fall off the rowing machine and break your radius. You won’t tear an adductor muscle on the rowing machine. You won’t hurt either Achilles tendon on the rowing machine. You will get fit. You row and row and row.

He-Man escapes again. He-Man has managed to avoid extradition to the back of your mind. He-Man is back; He-Man is bad. You row and row and row. You are half way across the Atlantic and you tweak something.

Knee

“Ignore it,” says He Man. You ignore it. Your knee swells up like a bap. You can’t bend your knee. You are in absolute agony. You have managed to get bursitis. You have to stop exercising for months. He-Man disappears, laughing. He-Man is a bastard!

They say exercise is good for you . . . so you lie on the sofa and drink beer and eat crisps while watching other people exercise.

Getting a bit fat? Buy bigger trousers. That is what a real He-Man would do.