Howard Nicholls had always been active – tramping, mountain biking, and volunteering on the Coastguard Sumner rescue boats. Stroke wasn’t on his radar.
Everything changed on King’s Birthday 2024. At 63, while riding along Summit Road, Howard had a sudden stroke. There were no warning signs – no headache, no dizziness – just a few seconds of knowing something was terribly wrong.
He jumped off his bike just before his balance gave way. The world began to spin violently. He couldn’t open his eyes without triggering waves of nausea, followed by uncontrollable vomiting.
With what strength remained, he called his wife. Soon after, he was in hospital, where scans revealed a clot in the left cerebellum, affecting an artery supplying the vestibular system – part of the brain largely responsible for balance.
Remarkably, everything else was untouched. His speech, movement, and cognition remained intact. Howard describes it as being “unlucky but lucky” – unlucky to have a stroke at all, but fortunate that its effects were so narrowly confined.
By the second night in hospital, the spinning had eased enough for him to walk short distances, gripping walls for support. He threw himself into his physio exercises, and by day three was making his way shakily down the corridor, declining a walking stick. Soon after, he was discharged home.
In stroke terms, his injury was considered mild. In daily life, it was anything but.
At home, he could only manage a few metres at a time, his walking unsteady and weaving. Brain fatigue quickly became his biggest obstacle. As a software consultant, he found screens almost impossible to tolerate. Concentration evaporated within minutes, ruling out any return to work.
Driving was off the table. Simple outings became overwhelming. Noise and busy environments triggered sensory overload, and even routine tasks left him exhausted. Much of his day was spent resting as his brain worked to rewire itself.
Recovery came in small, deliberate steps. Walking improved gradually, marked by quiet milestones along Sumner’s Esplanade. Progress was slow, but it was progress.
After three months, he returned to work part-time and resumed driving. Around the same time, he joined the NeuroGym®. He thrived on the structure – measurable exercises, clear goals, and visible progress. The “lights” and SmartFit® dual-tasking drills became favourites, while balance work on the Bosu and surfboard challenged him most.
“The NeuroGym® has played a big part in my recovery,” he says. “The programme, the encouragement, the people – it all makes a difference.”
He also found motivation in those around him. “You see people with major brain injuries in there, working away week after week. The determination is incredible.”
A year after his stroke, the demands of full-time work still felt too much. With retirement approaching, Howard chose to step away from his career, giving himself the space to focus fully on recovery.
Around 18 months on – and now retired – he cautiously returned to mountain biking. It began with an easy trail in Hanmer Springs, then progressed to an intermediate downhill at Christchurch Adventure Park.
In March 2026, he reached a milestone that once would have seemed unlikely: completing the Queen Charlotte Track over three days with his biking group. It was more than a ride, it was proof of how far he had come.
Fatigue still lingers, often invisible to others. To the outside world, he looks fully recovered, but limits remain and explaining that can be difficult.
He’s learned to listen carefully to his body. Push too hard, and the cost comes the next day.
Renzie Hanham advised Howard to focus on the process. Consistent effort yields progress, overly ambitious targets can be discouraging.
There’s more to achieve. Howard wants to build his walking stamina enough to complete a full day tramp without brain fog. And one day, he hopes to return to active duty on the Coastguard rescue vessels.
Progress hasn’t been linear, and it isn’t finished. But it is real. “One small step, one trail, one sunrise at a time,” says Howard.