Are You Having a Laugh?

Every now and again, someone comes along who makes you rethink things. Thomas brings a sense of joy to the gym that’s infectious. More than that, he’s made me question how we programme for everyone—to the point we’re now exploring how to add a smidge of ‘Thomasness’ to every session. Here’s his story. 

 

I’m Thomas McGrath – a lifelong computer geek, with a deep-rooted allergy to gyms and gym jocks.

 

Suddenly, after a life of clean(ish) living, I suffered a violent assault, concussion and stroke. Work and driving stopped overnight. Life became recovery at home, alongside my teenage kids and my hard-working wife.

 

Over the past year, I’ve had support from my GP, the Laura Fergusson Brain Injury Trust, and the hospital. One thing I’ve learned: listen to the experts – even when it’s uncomfortable. Take advice. Especially the challenging kind.

 

Walking into a gym, though? That was a different challenge entirely.

 

School PE left its mark. I still remember being told, “Thomas makes absolutely no effort to make up for his total lack of ability.”

 

I expected the Neurogym to be the more of the same. It wasn’t. 

 

If I wanted my mind to respond positively to the gym, I knew I needed to be creative and make it fun. If I want my brain to relearn, adapt and grow, I needed to enjoy the process. That’s how I learn. 

 

The environment at the Neurogym made that possible – supportive, creative and the right side of playful.

 

For example: on the arm ergometer (standing hand pedal thing), my legs would usually do nothing. I turned it into a full-body exercise – adding stretches, balance, even a bit of yoga. On the bike, I bring my arms into play – moving, stretching, staying engaged. 

 

It’s less about “doing reps” and more about feeling alive, present and connected.

 

I also work around my injury. I now have a blind spot just right of centre, so I’ve adapted ball exercises to challenge that space – moving the ball in and out of that spot deliberately. It’s training my brain to cope, maybe even improve.

 

The key is mindset. Positive, engaged, curious. Like training a puppy – you reward what you want to grow. It gives me a sense of control in a situation that can feel anything but.

 

And it works.

 

Between sessions, my mood is better. My health is better. Even on the mornings when I feel like crap and don’t want to go, I remind myself: I’ll feel better if I do. And often, something unexpected happens – a conversation, a moment, something I needed without knowing it.

 

That matters. Especially when you’re dealing with post-stroke fatigue and the daily grind of getting going.

 

The Neurogym is thoughtful, personal and human. I work at my own pace. I’m surrounded by people who understand, not closed off in their own worlds.

 

The atmosphere is set by Tim and the team – people who get it, some because they’ve lived it.

 

It’s not just exercise.

 

It’s been a genuinely important part of my [our] recovery.