Rewriting the Neurodivergent Narrative: Patrick Chorley, Rowing, Climbing
Written by Caragh McMurtry. Subheadings added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.
This is the fourth official post on the Neurodiverse Sport blog—and it’s a big one. While autism and ADHD are finally starting to gain recognition in sport, dyspraxia remains largely invisible, with very few public figures willing or able to speak openly about it. That’s what makes Patrick Chorley’s story so valuable. Diagnosed with dyslexia, dyspraxia, and ADHD, Patrick is a rower, coxswain, climber, and leader whose experiences offer powerful insight into what it means to be neurodivergent in a world that often doesn’t accommodate difference. From the freedom of movement in rowing and trampolining to the sting of exclusion in elite teams, Patrick has experienced both the highs and lows of sport—and has channelled both into building spaces where others like him can belong. He may not fit the conventional mould of an “athlete,” but that’s exactly the point. This blog is for people who rewrite the script—and Patrick does just that.
Patrick Chorley. Credit: Koice Media
A Childhood of Movement: ADHD and Early Sport
Meet Patrick Chorley—a rower, coxswain, and climber—who has been diagnosed with dyslexia, dyspraxia, and ADHD at different stages of his life. The way he describes the sensory experience of sport, particularly in relation to dyspraxia, offers valuable insight and may help bridge the current gap in understanding.
Patrick’s earliest interaction with exercise was arguably his constant fidgeting, thanks to his ADHD! But his first formal introduction to sport came when his mum signed him up for gymnastics and trampolining. She hoped they would help him channel his energy and improve his muscle tone, which was affected by dyspraxia (his words—not mine).
Unsurprisingly, Patrick loved trampolining—who doesn’t? But he lost touch with both sports when his family relocated.
Olympic Inspiration and the Joy of Rowing
After watching the London 2012 Olympics, Patrick was inspired to join Barn Elms Rowing Club. He described rowing and coxing as offering a sense of “freedom”—similar to the feeling he got from trampolining. Both sports require energy, but they give it back, letting you ‘freewheel’—through water or air.
Having dyspraxia (otherwise known as developmental coordination disorder) may make this freedom of movement feel even more exhilarating and uplifting. But you don’t often hear about these positives—and there are very few sporting role models for dyspraxic individuals. In fact, the only elite athletes I’ve ever heard speak openly about their dyspraxia are Rugby Union player Ellis Genge and Neurodiverse Sport Co-Founder Mikey Mottram.
Patrick Chorley. Credit: Koice Media
Rowing as Refuge and Equaliser
Patrick spoke about being able to “leave everything on the land and have fun on the water regardless of how good the session is.” That resonated deeply with me—rowing can offer a safe, neutral zone, particularly valuable if school is a struggle due to neurodivergence.
He also praised the inclusive nature of his club: people from all walks of life ending up in the same boat—literally and metaphorically.
Unlocking Strengths Through Sport
Patrick’s neurodivergence hasn’t just been a challenge—it’s part of what makes him exceptional. Pursuing sport in his own time and way allowed him to optimise his unique strengths. He found a particular talent for coxing, not only because of his small stature (sorry Patrick!), but due to his 3D spatial thinking.
He described being able to see the stream interacting with the boat, the blades with the water, the rudder with the current. Likewise, he spoke about visualising hand and foot holds while climbing—think Metal Gear Solid 3D-style awareness. Very cool stuff.
Patrick Chorley. Credit: Koice Media
Facing Rejection – and Building Belonging
At both school and university, Patrick initially had negative experiences with structured sports teams. When he tried out for the University of Durham Rowing Team, he was told he’d “never cut it as an athlete.” But instead of walking away, he created an alternative.
In his third year, Patrick became President of his college boat club, cultivating an ethos of radical inclusion. This was a space for anyone who wanted to do sport—regardless of their previous experiences or perceived ability. All they needed was a desire to be there.
While it’s a shame he had to build this outside the main team, his initiative was better than nothing—and, frankly, better than most. Despite all he offered, Patrick still felt the need to apologise for his dyslexia-related challenges. This is far too common. Those on the fringes often try the hardest to connect—but their efforts can fall flat due to communication differences or a lack of receptiveness.
The Case for Receptiveness
We live in a fast-paced world, and taking the time to get to know someone is often viewed as a luxury. But what a loss that is. When you stop and really listen, what you gain is immeasurable.
I don’t have a perfect solution—but I believe it starts with more people being more receptive. Yes, it takes time and effort. But when you truly see someone for who they are, you don’t forget it.
There’s a saying: “If you’ve met one [neurodivergent person], you’ve met one [neurodivergent person].” And it’s true. But in getting to know just one, you build skills that make it easier to meet the next. It’s worth it. Neurodivergent people aren’t always what you’d expect—but isn’t that what makes life interesting?
Final Thoughts
Patrick’s story is a powerful reminder that neurodivergent athletes don’t need to be “fixed”—they need to be seen, heard, and supported. His journey from exclusion to leadership, and from fidgety kid to spatially gifted coxswain, shows what’s possible when someone dares to rewrite the script.
We’re grateful to Patrick for sharing his story—and proud to share it here.
Lessons from Patrick’s Journey
For Neurodivergent Individuals:
Your Path is Valid
→ Like Patrick, you might not fit the system—but that doesn’t mean you don’t belong.
Your Strengths Are Real
→ 3D thinking, spatial awareness, and creativity are legitimate and valuable tools.
Rejection Isn't the End
→ Sometimes, the best way forward is to create your own inclusive space.
For Peers, Supporters, and Parents:
See the Person, Not the Label
→ Support and belief can be life-changing—especially when someone is underestimated.
Listen to Understand
→ Curiosity opens doors that judgment slams shut.
Help Amplify Strengths
→ Don’t fix the person—adapt the environment and support their spark.
For Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations:
Broaden Your Definition of Success
→ Winning isn’t just about performance metrics—it’s also about inclusion and impact.
Adapt the Systems, Not Just the People
→ A flexible pathway doesn’t lower standards—it increases access.
Value Unconventional Thinkers
→ The "outsiders" often bring insight, empathy, and innovation that sport desperately needs.
This blog post was written by Caragh McMurtry. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.