Emer McLysaght I went to the same primary school as Rhasidat ...

It’s difficult to imagine what we did with our lives before Paris 2024, isn’t it? In just a few short weeks I became a world-class expert in everything from parallel bars to canoe slalom. “Oooh, could have done better there,” I muttered from under a blanket on the couch as Olympians achieved feats of strength and endurance I could only ever dream of. I silently cursed my mother for not putting me into gymnastics classes at a young age so that I might have lived out my dream of standing beside Simone Biles on the podium as we received our joint gold medals for being All Round Best Girls. In fairness to my mother, I’m not sure gymnastics classes were an option, and I do remember attempting majorettes in a dusty parish hall with a stick as a baton. At least I was a dab hand/foot at the Irish dancing and still have my under-eights medals in a box somewhere.

I am of course thrilled to have a connection to our Irish Olympic heroes because I went to school with Rhasidat Adeleke. Well, we went to the same primary school. Two decades apart. Look, maybe she once sat in the same classroom as my six-year-old ghost. Let me have that at least.

It was at St Mark’s Primary School in Springfield, Tallaght, that Adeleke’s talent was first spotted by a teacher. Many Olympians start on their path to greatness at an early age. Simone Biles started taking gymnastics at six years old. US Olympic gold medallist Katie Ledecky was also six when she started swimming. It’s probably too late for any of us to get into training for the Los Angeles Games in 2028. Or is it?

The past few weeks of achievement and excitement have stirred up online discussion about how easy (or difficult, let’s be honest) it would be to pick up a brand new sport in time to compete in LA. Rowing, equestrian and any of “shooting” sports like air rifle or archery have been suggested as possibilities but I would wager that any of the rowing, equestrian and shooting athletes competing in Paris would have a few things to say.

If we could pick our own personal daily battles to participate in as Olympic sports, we might have a fighting chance. “Getting down the stairs of a Dublin Bus as it lurches towards your stop” would draw a strong field of competitors. Points would be lost for whiteness of knuckles on the handrail, and for any dropped shopping bags. Only the city’s most heavy-footed drivers would be employed to manoeuvre the competition vehicles.

Getting a table at Marqette in Dublin Airport Terminal One in mid-July is a discipline that would test even the most conditioned of athletes. This is a team sport, with the squad comprised of a set of parents at the end of their patience and two fractious children who can’t understand why they’re not in the pool yet. The children must focus, however, as it is they who will crucially be tasked with running and securing a table for four before a rival claims the space with a wheelie suitcase and a light jacket spread out across all of the seats.

Tests of speed could be performed at the N4 toll bridge, where every day drivers already inexplicably compete to see who can be fastest into the laneless no man’s land on the other side once the toll is paid. Haste and patience would be the name of the game in “putting on a double duvet cover on a humid evening”. “Sneaking out of the kid’s room after they’ve fallen asleep” is a sport some parents have already been in training for for years. Some are so skilled they can climb out of a cot and army crawl across the floor without waking the baby.

[ ‘She told the kids this is where she started’: Tallaght AC celebrates Rhasidat Adeleke’s rise to stardomOpens in new window ]

Supermarkets are where we could really come into our own. Packing your shopping in Lidl and Aldi is already a feat of skill and speed. Add in extra points for putting the divider down on the conveyor belt before the competitor behind has to ask and we’re looking at a banner event for 2028. I personally will be competing in a sport that I’ve been practising since I was six: throwing a tennis ball against the wall without hitting any of the busy lizzies or geraniums. Gold for Ireland!