Category: Dave Byrne

It’s one hell of a cliché that ‘you can do anything you put your mind to’. It’s also a lie.

I could tell myself day and night for years that I could beat Steven Adams in a 1:1 game of basketball. I could tell myself forever and a day that I could train and become a Formula 1 driver. I could tell myself that I could become the greatest singer the world has ever known. I can have all of the courage in the world and a truly positive mindset but the possibility of me beating Usain Bolt over 100m is non-existent.

However, when we are judicious and thoughtful in selecting our goals, we can achieve great things. A shiny new goal is intimidating- and it should be. You’re not sure if you can get there. You’re not sure what will happen. When standing and looking at the mountain, it seems enormous and insurmountable. However, you can only take the next step in front of you and surely one step isn’t intimidating, is it?

When I took on the 100km race last year, I entered, paid my money and then sat back thinking,“What the hell have I done?” 100km is running to Taihape. It’s here to Paraparaumu. It’s running a marathon- then another- then a half marathon- back to back. This is insane.

But other people have done it.

Other people have gone further.

Why can’t I do it?

So you start making it achievable in your own mind. You only have to get to the next aid station. You only have to get to a certain part of the course. You only have to make it through this steep little bit and then it will get better. I feel terrible but just give it half an hour and see if I feel better.

In fact, you spend so much time minimising the ‘unachievable’ goal in your mind, that you end up normalising it. When people find out that I ran a 100km race, their faces have this mixture of disbelief, disgust and admiration. It’s not until these conversations that I remember what a big deal it was and I become proud of it again. Indeed, my medal for the race (a beautifully crafted glass medal) resides in the bottom of a drawer with my cufflinks and other bric-a-brac.

So I’ve started preparing for a 100 mile race in 2019. Lots could go wrong: injury, illness, other commitments. Once again, it’s intimidating. But I guess all I can do is the next bit of my training.

When you make the exceptional an expectation, the unimaginable becomes a reality.

Dave Byrne

Dave Byrne is Head of the Languages Faculty at Feilding High School. The following piece is a refection on his son, Oscar.

One day we brought the groceries home and Oscar picked up the cans and started stacking them in different locations before staring intently at them. We thought nothing of it at the time.

He would be prone to the odd meltdown and he was completely obsessed with cars but nothing too out of the ordinary for a toddler. His language was the first flag that he may have autism. He had very few words and even fewer two word sentences. Most of what he said was simply a direct echo of what we had said.After doing some research, we ended up seeing  a specialist and we are now on track to getting him diagnosed.

Living with Oscar is an absolute joy. He adores his mum, idolises his twin sister Phoebe and loves visits from his nana. He smiles and blows kisses to his Gran on Skype and usually comes up for cuddles when I arrive home from work.
Where we start to notice differences is how he behaves when he is around other kids. He is happy to play alongside them and is keen to join in with running around games (tag, chase, football etc) but he doesn’t really communicate.

At first, seeing Oscar struggle to form relationships made my heart sink. While Phoebe is off making friends and doing all sorts of imaginative role play, Oscar just happy on his own, investigating things.

But over time I’ve realised that is where you have to check yourself. Why am I sad? Is it because Oscar is not fulfilling my idea of what I think will make him happy? I have to remind myself that it is not about my expectations for him. It is about him working at his own pace and doing what makes him happy.
His kindy teachers are amazing people and he loves going there. He enjoys playing with trains, the slide and every now and then sneaking into the office to tap on the keyboard.

Oscar is slowly learning how to follow instructions and is getting better at responding to his name. It has helped tremendously that we have been proactive and not ignored any signs; the professionals we have dealt with have all been brilliant.

His mum is a wonder woman. Her patience, kindness and caring is absolutely limitless, even when Oscar is at his toughest and most trying.

Oscar is making new discoveries every day and often has incredible moments of lucidity where he will use his words perfectly and in context. Once he even slipped off his chair and managed to deliver a beautifully timed “oh sh..” on his way to the ground.

His sister is probably his favourite person in the world and it’s wonderful watching their relationship blossom. He brings her toys and often shares his food with her. At some point, we realise that we’re going to have to sit down and have a conversation with Phoebe about how her brother is a bit different from her other friends.

Despite his many differences and limitations, Oscar is a sweet, kind and gentle boy.

His personality is possibly best summed up by his name. In some translations, ‘Oscar’ means “dear friend”. With his smiles, gestures, singing and cuddles completely lacking in pretension, Oscar might just be one of the dearest friends I will ever have.