I was part of the Back to the Future generation when skateboards were a legitimate means of transport and BMX’s were the bicycles of the future. At that stage, the older crowd were pretty entwined with piano key neck ties and the Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone phenomenon. This second phenomenon was what intrigued me most. Two actors flexing their pecs in front of the silver screen, affirming that testosterone and a good diet would always overcome evil. But Mr Schwarzenegger and Mr Stallone were far more than two gymbo’s who could work their way through a script. They were representatives of disgruntled 30-year old men who had grown up in a post-war era without the temperance of war or the support of a hippy movement. Lost souls trying to find their identity as men were slowly being swallowed up by the surge of women into the work place.

Intelligent and motivated women were stepping forward. They were no longer required to support their boys on the front, assembling bombs for the war effort, and were no longer responsible for maintaining sanitised cherry blossom families preparing for husbands to return from the trenches. Their focus had changed to a new frontier – the Workplace. The male dominated arena never saw this one coming. Women were the protectors of the family home, the cooks in the kitchen and the teachers of the young. Since time immemorial, their child bearing capabilities had constrained them to the boundaries of the family home. That was until scientists discovered the Pill.

The oral contraceptive pill inhibited the fertility of women liberating them from the shackles of their apron strings. The Pill allowed them to study longer and enjoy the freedom that was often only ever granted to men. And ever since they’ve been working their way up the previously male dominated corporate ladder. Men were side swiped by a competition that took them by surprise causing them to lose their grip and forcing them to succumb.

Man used to come home from work to a docile wife, satiated children and a hearty meal. Suddenly, he was faced with the prospect of having to make dinner for himself and leave out a plate of food for his wife who was still in the city chairing corporate meetings. He was no longer the provider of the house. He was no longer required. So he escaped via the cinema into the Sly and Arnie domain where men had reclaimed their rightful thrones as society’s lumberjacks and defenders of the meek. To a place where men were revered, feared and placed on pinnacles for the security that they provided. Security which the average Joe was no longer capable of providing.

After the pictures on the screen had faded, Man returned to a world he was apprehensive to confront. And then the word “Ironman” filled his head. Average people doing extraordinary things. Huge hours of doing crazy miles mixed with blood, sweat and tears. The sport which mixed speed, air, water and road and created a backdrop that rekindled thoughts of gladiatorial pursuits and epic conquests. And men saw the escape hatch from the couch and began to entertain ideas of noble endeavours and a pathway to hope and adventure.

And once again they toiled with purpose. Waking up early before the sun’s rays appeared, preparing, undergoing, executing. Living lives as warriors in a quest to be prepared, to be the best of the best, to dare and win. Semper Fi. Hoo-ra. Nothing is impossible. And they regained their self pride in the knowledge that a highly enthused individual on a quest not only stirs inspiration in himself, but also in others.

But, just as in Fight Club, this territory was no longer the exclusive terrain of men. Women, who enjoy the challenge and adrenaline of a mission, had jumped on the Irontrain with a fervent vigour that niggled at the misplaced men of the world. An ability to organise, plan and endure will always be in women’s favour once they get to the start line.

And all these thoughts tumbling through my mind brought me back to the St George’s hospital waiting room.

Natalie’s gurney eventually squeaked down the plastic tiled corridor. She shouted to the nurses “That’s my husband!” In that moment of relief and joy, it immediately dawned on me that the battle of the sexes was lost by men a long time ago. Women in all their shrouded mystery and multi faceted complexity have always been geared to more easily embrace the pain and sweat filled journey to physical enlightenment. What men see as a pain and hardship, women see as a way of life.

This was confirmed to me on the day of the accident when Natalie was quizzed by the nurse to indicate the pain level of her injuries on a scale of 1 to 10. Natalie quipped, “With childbirth at a clear 10, I’d say this was a 6 and half, maybe a 7". Which brought me to the realisation that try as we may to assert our manhood and claim back our hunter status, I think it’s best to avoid comparing ourselves to the other gender. We’d clearly be clobbered.

To succumb or to overcome.
You decide.
RobbyRicc