Back on his feet: Castlebar native turns paralysis into men’s mental strength movement

When Jonathan ‘JP’ McCormack collapsed attempting a single push-up last June, he assumed he had simply pushed himself too hard.

“It was the strangest feeling,” he recalls. “There was just no connection.”

Within days, the Castlebar-born entrepreneur was paralysed from the neck down. Lying in intensive care, he was told he might never walk again.

Less than a year later, he is training for a military-entry standard run carrying 20kg on his back — the first of 11 demanding challenges under a new international movement he has founded, Brave Men Take Action.

And this summer, he is bringing that movement home to Mayo.

A Mayo man, no matter where he roams

JP’s roots run deep in the West. Born in Castlebar to Johnny McCormack of Westport Road and Brid McGreal of Springvale House, Ballinrobe, JP’s early life was split between the west of Ireland, County Down and later London. For the past five years, he has lived in Lisbon.

But Mayo, he says, is where he feels most himself.

“My happiest memories are all from Mayo.”

READ MORE: “It’s a way of preserving our Irish music” - Killasser craftsman

He speaks of summers fishing on Lough Mask with his grandfather Des McGreal, kayaking from Brownstown to Moore Hall, climbing Croagh Patrick and spending long days at Keem Beach in Achill. With 32 first cousins on his mother’s side, family life was energetic and close-knit.

“When I’m back in Mayo, it brings out the big kid in me,” he says. “Mayo is my home. I'm a Mayo supporter. I believe in green and red.”

“You may never walk again”

In June 2025, what began as mild weakness quickly escalated. Pins and needles spread through his hands and feet. Walking became difficult. He collapsed in his office.

An initial hospital visit suggested a viral infection. But an online consultation raised immediate alarm.

“You need to go to A&E immediately,” the doctor told him. “I think you have Guillain-Barré Syndrome.”

Guillain-Barré Syndrome is a rare autoimmune condition in which the immune system attacks the peripheral nerves, often leading to rapid paralysis.

Within hours, JP was admitted to intensive care.

“They told me most people make a full recovery,” he says. “But not everybody. I might never walk again.”

He had a nine-month-old baby at home.

“Deep down, I just thought — not me. That Irish grit kicked in.”

Me versus the bed

JP spent exactly one month in hospital. After intensive treatment came rehabilitation — learning to stand, to move, to walk again.

“I forgot how to walk,” he says plainly. “It’s neurological. You forget.”

The treatment was intense, and initially his body weakened further. He lost over 20kg. Determined not to waste a moment, JP turned his hospital bed into a training ground. Water bottles became makeshift weights. He performed hundreds of small, repetitive movements daily — lifting toes, flexing ankles, gripping the bedrail.

“The physio told me it was like rebooting a computer,” he says. “So I thought, right — the more I move, the more I wake it up.”

He visualised movements before attempting them. At night, he practised breathwork. Every ounce of energy went toward one goal: getting home.

“My singular focus was — what helps me get back to my partner and my baby as quickly as possible?”

Within three months of paralysis, he was running again. Hospital staff told him they had rarely seen such rapid recovery. For JP, it was not about defiance, it was about gratitude.

“I take absolutely nothing for granted now,” he says. “Being able to stand. Being able to hold my daughter. That’s everything.”

From talk to action

For the past 18 months, JP has been an ambassador for Brave Men Talk, leading monthly hikes in Lisbon that combine movement and open conversation around men’s mental health.

“I think talking is essential,” he says. “But I also think action is essential.”

That belief led him to launch Brave Men Take Action earlier this year — a sister movement built around 11 challenges designed to test endurance, discipline and resilience.

They range from a 100km endurance walk and the 4x4x48 running challenge to cold exposure, breath-hold training and a full day of silence.

“It’s not about passing every challenge,” he insists. “It’s about showing up.”

JP is candid about why he believes such initiatives are needed.

“Men don’t talk enough,” he says. “It’s something that’s been passed down for generations.”

He points to sobering statistics around suicide and addiction, and speaks about responsibility and brotherhood. He believes many men struggle because they bottle things up, lacking both outlet and structure.

“We want to build each other up, not break each other down,” he says. “If we can heal a generation or two now, the next generation won’t have to carry the same weight.”

Bringing it home

This summer, JP will return to County Mayo for a month following the arrival of his second child. During that time, he plans to complete one of the challenges locally and host a men’s mental health hike — potentially on Croagh Patrick — inviting men from across the county to join him.

“It will feel special,” he says. “This is for Mayo. I feel a duty to give something back.”

His ambition is to establish a lasting presence for both initiatives in Mayo, encouraging men to gather, move and talk openly.

For now, his message is simple.

To any Mayo man struggling quietly, he says: “Please reach out. Join us. Do one challenge. Do all eleven. Or just come for a walk. You don’t have to do it alone.”

After months in which he could not stand, JP understands the value of a single step.

“Recovery taught me resilience is built through action,” he says. “We don’t become mentally strong just by talking about it. We build it through disciplined effort, shared hardship and community.”

For a Mayo man who once had to relearn how to walk, the next step feels clear — and this time, he hopes others will walk it with him.

READ MORE: Where the crying was heard: uncovering Mayo’s hidden cillíní through folklore