Paul Burrows - Finding Stillness Through Movement
Introduction
This is Part Two of a two-part blog by Paul Burrows, a lifelong sportsperson who reflects on how his Autistic and Dyslexic identity shapes his experience of sport, performance, connection, and wellbeing. This post explores how physical activity provides calm, structure, and identity in a world that often feels noisy or overwhelming – and how understanding his own patterns and preferences became the key to sustaining mental health through sport.
Paul Burrows, Nottingham Trent Rowing Club
Sport and Disability: The Bigger Picture
“I went to a ‘Poly’, as it was known forty-something years ago—Nottingham Trent University, as it’s known now—to do a degree in Sports Science. What particularly attracted me to that course was the element of ‘Sport for the Disabled’ as it was called. I had volunteered at a Special Olympics event in 1982, and seeing the pleasure people with learning disabilities were gaining from sport inspired me. I thought it was great.
At the end of my degree I started working for a charity, the British Sports Association for the Disabled (BSAD), developing sporting opportunities through the sports national governing bodies and organising competitive sporting events. I really enjoyed this period of my professional life, but the pay was terrible!!”
Learning to Articulate the Benefits
“When working for BSAD, I co-developed a training course for local authority workers promoting the provision of sporting opportunities for people with all types of disability and impairment. One of the sessions in this course was entitled, ‘The benefits of sport’. We knew that we should talk about the benefits, but thinking back with horror we never really knew what to say, so the 45-minute session normally lasted only 10 minutes.
Today, I could speak for a whole day on the benefits of sport both physical and mental. I would focus primarily on the mental health benefits, which I believe are particularly pronounced for those of us who are neurodivergent. Ultimately it is about creating that sense of belonging and oneness that can help us feel whole and part of something beyond ourselves and our own heads. It is also about calming the noise in our heads.”
“Rowing was my gang. My lifeline”
Paul Burrows, Rowing
Does Sport Re-Define What Social Relationships Can Be?
“In many ways, it does. For me, connection through sport wasn’t about close personal friendships. It was about shared goals, mutual respect, and people showing up for each other without unnecessary small talk. That was my version of community—and that reframe helped me understand my social needs in a way that finally made sense.”
Calm Waters and Loud Floors
“The mental relaxation sport gives me often comes from focus—something to do with my whole body that takes up all the space in my mind. But the environment matters too. Water is calming. I need to be on it rather than in it, but waterfalls, the sea, and flowing rivers all bring stillness to my brain. Squeaky shoes on gym floors, however, set me on edge. I find those spaces genuinely stressful.”
The Role of Music and Sound
“Music helps. It can either feed or counter my mood. I don’t respond to lyrics—I respond to rhythm. Classical and heavy metal both work; the middle ground doesn’t. If you’re curious, look up The Hu, a Mongolian band whose beat resonates with me. I’ve also tried 8D music; it didn’t work for me, but it might for you. Other times, I crave silence. Music becomes too much and increases the noise in my head. Listening to my own needs in that moment is key.”
Quieting the Mind: Breathing and Movement
“Meditation and mindfulness don’t come naturally. My brain doesn’t stop—ever. But I’ve found techniques that work for me. Square breathing (in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4) genuinely slows my pulse. I combine this with physical stillness through wall sits or holding a plank. That double focus on breath and body helps me find a grounded state.”
Paul Burrows, Golf
Obsession as a Strength?
“Part of knowing myself has been recognising that I have obsessive tendencies. I didn’t always realise this was unusual. Take, for example, the time I signed up to a charity event to run 2 miles a day for 125 days. I ended up running 960 miles. Or when I set out to row 1,000,000 metres in a year… and hit that goal by March. By December, I had rowed over 7 million metres—an average of a half marathon a day.
I did this while holding down a demanding full-time job. The earliest I got on the rowing machine to make sure I met my daily distance was 02:50 a.m. I finished the year ranked 28th in the world for distance rowing. That’s not normal. But it does show I have a mind that’s well suited to high performance—if I can use it wisely.”
The Cost of the Crash
“After both of these personal challenges, I crashed. Not physically, but mentally. The goal was over—and suddenly I had nothing. That’s why I now build in open-ended goals. When the immediate target is reached, I need something else to carry me forward. Otherwise, I risk falling into mental fatigue, or even depression. I don’t want to go back there.”
The Cost of Neglecting Your Needs
“When my children were younger, I stopped playing sports. I thought it was selfish to take time for myself. But that choice cost me more than I expected. It damaged my mental health. I’ve since learned that giving yourself permission to meet your own needs isn’t selfish—it’s essential. You’ll be a better parent, partner, or friend for it.”
A Lifetime of Sleeplessness
“Another reality I live with is sleep disruption. I can’t sleep well. Once I wake up, I’m fully alert—whether it’s 2 a.m. or 5 a.m. I know others diagnosed as autistic who went to their GP about sleep first. That symptom alone can be life-altering. I live in a state of perpetual tiredness.
… Sport helps.”
Final Thoughts
Paul’s reflections remind us that sport is more than physical activity—it can be a powerful way to find rhythm, rest, and release in a world that often feels too loud. For neurodivergent individuals, learning to honour sensory, social, and emotional needs isn’t a luxury—it’s essential for sustainable performance and wellbeing. Whether you're a coach looking to better support neurodivergent athletes, or someone reflecting on your own patterns, we hope Paul’s story offers insight, validation, and encouragement to keep exploring what works for you.
Key Takeaways for Neurodivergent Individuals
Know yourself
→ Find a sport that aligns with your sensory needs, social style, and energy levels.
Use your strengths
→ Obsessiveness or hyperfocus can be an asset in performance, if harnessed well.
Give yourself permission
→ activity isn’t selfish—it’s self-sustaining.
Key Takeaways for Peers, Supporters, and Parents
Respect different versions of connection
→ Not everyone needs friendship to feel included—shared purpose can be enough.
Support open-ended goals
→ Help your ND friend or family member think beyond the next finish line.
Don’t dismiss obsession
→ It may look extreme, but it’s often a way of self-regulating and finding purpose.
Key Takeaways for Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations
Understand that environments matter
→ Bright lights, loud floors, and unfamiliar settings can be barriers.
Be open to different motivation styles
→ Not everyone wants a social team environment—but they still want to win.
Help plan for sustainability
→ If you push athletes to big goals, help them find the next one too.
This blog post was written by Paul Burrows. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.