GQ (South Africa)

A former Olympic gymnast chases a Paralympic dream

How a former Olympic-level gymnast chased a Paralympic dream

- Words by Lisa Abdellah

IT WAS A WEDNESDAY EVENING IN AUGUST 2012. BRANDON BEACK, A GYMNAST FROM CAPE TOWN WHO’D ACHIEVED PROVINCIAL COLOURS FOR EIGHT CONSECUTIV­E YEARS AND HAD BEGUN TRAINING AT JUNIOR OLYMPIC LEVEL, WAS PRACTISING A BACKWARD SOMERSAULT DISMOUNT OFF THE PARALLEL BARS AT HIS CLUB. IT WAS A MOVE HE PERFORMED DAILY.

The only thing out of the ordinary , he recalls, was that his mind raced with thoughts of upcoming exams, a Western Province competitio­n he felt he hadn’t adequately prepared for, and the sad passing of his godfather and dog that week. All it took Beack was a split-second loss of concentrat­ion to let go of the bars too early, underrotat­e and land, head first, on a metresquar­ed area of concrete a fraction beyond the safety mat. The impact compressed his sixth and seventh vertebrae, resulting in quadripleg­ia.

‘Many people lose consciousn­ess following an impact like that, but I was awake throughout my experience,’ he remembers. ‘As soon as

I hit the ground, a shockwave pulsed through my entire body, and then everything went numb. I couldn’t move from my shoulders down, but, in stark contrast, the pain I felt in my arms, shoulders and neck was intense. I was lying in a pool of blood because I’d split my head open.’

As Beack lay in a critical state, surrounded by concerned fellow gymnasts, he realised it was over. He wasn’t going to the Olympics.

Recovery

Once doctors had confirmed his condition stable, they told him he’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life and advised him to accept he’d never recover. He spent ten weeks at Vincent Pallotti Rehabilita­tion Centre to regain enough independen­ce to go home. Then, he was offered one hour of therapy per week, compared with the two to four hours a day of gymnastics training to which he was accustomed.

‘People generally like to be around me because of my optimism, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel low,’ Beack admits. ‘I went from being active [the former Reddam House student was also an accomplish­ed musician and dancer] to relying on someone to bathe, feed, dress me and brush my teeth.

‘Not only was I classified as disabled, but I felt unable to do everyday tasks, as if I’d lost my identity, and, to an extent, my hummanity. I considered myself an invalid, a burden who got in the way and slowed people down. Having to ask for help crushed me.’

How did Beack learn to cope with his psychologi­cal trauma? In Cape Town, he tried various therapies: physiother­apy, personal training and even acupunctur­e. But that wasn’t enough to keep him going. So, he travelled to the Shepherd Center in Atlanta, Georgia, where he underwent an intensive sixweek rehabilita­tion programme. Based on tests experts had conducted beforehand, he regained up to 70% of his muscle function. It was a turning point.

‘I returned not only with a new outlook on rehabilita­tion and therapy but on life,’ he says. ‘They had this mindset that no matter what happens to you, things can always get better. Even if it’s as small as being able to hold a cup of coffee at first, you can live a fulfilled life: start a family, get a job and have a purpose.’

So, for himself and the people he loved, Beack figured out a way to perform daily tasks, even if it took him twice as long as it had before. It was a slow process, but practise anything, and you’re bound to get better at it. »

‘It took around two years to regain function in my hands by buttoning up my shirt, tying my shoelaces and using my wheelchair by myself daily,’ he says. ‘Over time, I’ve gained back the full function of my arms and almost full function in my hands – they look normal, but my fine motor skills are a little slow. Now I have deep sensation all the way down to my lower back and flickers in muscles around my torso.’

From the way Beack carries himself, you’d think him a paraplegic, not a quadripleg­ic. He still can’t feel his legs, and it’s not a foregone conclusion that he’ll walk again, but he won’t give up on perpetuall­y irritating those muscles hoping something might stir. How else will he know if he doesn’t try?

Redirectio­n

Today, he’s the South African

T52 wheelchair record holder for the 100m, 200m, 400m, shotput and discus, is currently ranked ninth in the world for the T52 100m and is waiting to hear if he’s made this year’s South African Paralympic team. He trains with the Paralympic team and is coached by Suzanne Ferreira at Stellenbos­ch University, where he’s studying a BA in Humanities.

Once an athlete, always an athlete, Beack used gymnastics as a blueprint for his venture into para-athletics. ‘It got me into this situation, but it got me out of it too. I’m lean and have long arms, which can work to your advantage as a wheelchair racer. And I like to go fast – gymnasts are explosive.’

Inspired by the work at the Shepherd Centre, the Beack family founded the Walking With Brandon foundation in 2015, aimed to guide, motivate and offer affordable, accessible outpatient rehabilita­tion to all those with neurologic­al disabiliti­es. In

2019, they opened their first Therapy and Beyond Centre, a multidisci­plinary practice in Rondebosch offering a first-ofits-kind subsidised outpatient neurologic­al rehabilita­tion programme.

‘I’ve been told to my face that I’m half the athlete of that of my able-bodied counterpar­ts,’ he reveals. Not only is Beack one of the best para-athletes in the world, but he’s also overcome a disability. At the time of writing, he’s competing in the Para-athletics 2021 National Championsh­ips in Port Elizabeth. Children living with various disabiliti­es are performing there with smiles on their faces, seen as equal. That’s incredible! Why does hardly anyone know about it?

He wants to change that through the services he offers, peer support guidance and what his foundation stands for. He aims to open patients’ eyes to what they’re capable of, improve their quality of life and get them back into society – where people will see them.

Was he unlucky, or do things happen for a reason? ‘It’s ironic, but I’ve had more opportunit­ies after my accident than I had before. I’m living a more potential-filled life and could have a better future having touched peoples’ lives.’

Life’s all about perspectiv­e.

And Beack’s is that ‘shit happens, but in every low moment, there’s an opportunit­y to learn or gain strength from or use it to teach others. And if you believe in something wholeheart­edly enough, you won’t let anything get in your way.’

‘Gymnastics got me into this situation, but it got me out of it too’

 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??
 ??  ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from South Africa