Nat Locke: dressage, surfing, artistic swimming or shooting? Which sport will take me to the Olympics?

Well, we’re at the halfway mark of the action in Paris and I’ve hit that point where I’m seriously considering which event I need to take up in order to compete at the next games. Or failing that, Brisbane. I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Of course, as you get older, your options start to diminish somewhat. I want to be realistic about it. I realise that athletics is out, obviously. I’m a terrible swimmer, so I think we can safely draw a line through any sport that involves water. It’s really hard to let those artistic swimming dreams go, mainly because I’ve never even so much as attempted it and also, I don’t like getting my hair wet all the time, because it has a tendency to go very frizzy if allowed in the vicinity of moisture. Sadly, that also rules out surfing. Which I have never tried. Maybe I’m amazing at it, but given I did a whole term of ice skating in Year 9, and never once let go of the wall, I don’t have a lot of faith in my ability to balance on anything. And as much as I would love to think that I could pull off a Simone Biles-style tumbling pass, these days I can’t even manage a somersault without hurting my neck. So gymnastics is out. I have to cast my eye to some of the more obscure sports. An obvious choice would be the equestrian events, given I have actually ridden a horse at some point in my life. My pony Cindy wasn’t exactly a dressage champion, unless you count the impressive sidesteps she would randomly take if she got spooked by something, most of which resulted in my being thrown to the ground. Imagine how good I’d be on a properly trained steed. It’s also worth noting that the oldest athlete at these games is Australia’s Mary Hanna, who is competing in dressage at the sprightly age of 69. She’s hardly a beginner though, this being her seventh games and all. But still, clearly it’s a sport that you can participate in as you age gracefully. Also, I had an aunt who was still riding her horse at the age of 88, so clearly I have a genetic predisposition to the equestrian events. The minor hurdle preventing me from dressage greatness is that I made the mistake of googling what an Olympic dressage horse is worth and the answer I found was — wait for it — $400,000 to $15 million. FIFTEEN MILLION DOLLARS. And you still have to feed it. Archery is the next obvious choice because we’ve all shot one of those bow and arrows with the suction cup on them. Does that in any way replicate competitive archery? No. But it’s a start. With the right equipment, could I actually hit a target after having a few cracks at it? I reckon so. From there, surely it’s just practice, right? There’s another option to consider, too. I reckon I could give the shooting events a nudge. I’ve tried clay target shooting before, in the sense that my Dad made his own trap and let me have a go. Once I got used to the comical amount of kickback, I actually wasn’t terrible at it. And if clay targets don’t work out for me, there are a number of other shooting events. I was quite mesmerised last week by the rifle shooting, watching a tiny Korean woman aim her futuristic-looking air rifle at the target and very gently squeeze the trigger. She won the gold medal at the ripe old age of 16, beating out a 17-year-old Chinese lass. But there doesn’t appear to be any physical impediment to an old boiler like myself having a go. Other than you know, actually doing it. I’m not an idiot. I do realise it’s unlikely that I’ve got the sort of natural talent that means I can just waltz in and immediately be amazing at something. I know I’ll have to put in the hard yards, so I’ve been crunching the numbers. All the experts reckon you need to put in 10,000 hours to become truly proficient at something. That means that if I start now, and aim for the Brisbane games in 2032, I will have to commit roughly 25 hours a week to my chosen sport. That also allows for two weeks holiday every year, which is problematic because I take a lot more than two weeks holiday every year. Still, presumably, I’ll be travelling to international competitions, so that could count as a holiday. I really have considered every aspect here. The only real obstacle in my desire to go to an Olympics — and let’s be honest here, I would probably settle for the Commonwealth Games too, if they even exist anymore — is my lack of follow-through. Could I commit 25 hours a week to something? Yes, for roughly one week. Then I would lose interest and take up origami or something. But that won’t stop me wondering what could have been. I’ll meet you back here for the same conversation in four years’ time.