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Bend, Don't Break: A Memoir of Endurance
'Victory is a life well lived or a day enjoyed.'
Limerick man Frank O'Mara had the athletics career most only dream of, competing for Ireland in three Olympic Games and breaking Irish and world records. After his retirement from running, he settled in the US with his family and made his way to the top of the telecoms industry.
Then at age forty-eight, his life changed forever when he was diagnosed with early onset Parkinson's disease. The progression was rapid, causing severe muscle cramps, tremors, and eventually the inability to walk and at times even speak.
In this inspiring memoir, Frank recounts his battle with Parkinson's. At first in denial, he eventually found the strength that made him successful as an athlete and in business – using determination, and humour to weather the worst phases of the disease. He learned to face each hurdle as he came to to bend, but not break.
One man's life-affirming story of facing adversity with grace and courage.
Limerick man Frank O'Mara had the athletics career most only dream of, competing for Ireland in three Olympic Games and breaking Irish and world records. After his retirement from running, he settled in the US with his family and made his way to the top of the telecoms industry.
Then at age forty-eight, his life changed forever when he was diagnosed with early onset Parkinson's disease. The progression was rapid, causing severe muscle cramps, tremors, and eventually the inability to walk and at times even speak.
In this inspiring memoir, Frank recounts his battle with Parkinson's. At first in denial, he eventually found the strength that made him successful as an athlete and in business – using determination, and humour to weather the worst phases of the disease. He learned to face each hurdle as he came to to bend, but not break.
One man's life-affirming story of facing adversity with grace and courage.
288 pages, Paperback
Published April 19, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
February 21, 2024
Inspirational
I really enjoyed this book.
Found it hard to put down onne I started it.
Thanks Frank for sharing your story.
I really enjoyed this book.
Found it hard to put down onne I started it.
Thanks Frank for sharing your story.
July 17, 2024
Frank O’Mara and I have three things in common: a) we’re both Irish citizens, b) we both competed in track and field in college, and c) we both have Parkinson’s disease.
The commonalities only carry so far, though. Take the issue of Irish citizenship. O’Mara was born and raised in Ireland’s County Limerick; I’m a Midwestern American boy, a product of the “I-states”: Iowa, Indiana, Illinois. He became an Irish citizen at birth, while I claimed Irish citizenship only recently, “through descent.” My maternal grandfather, who emigrated to America in the 1910s, was a Limerick man, like O’Mara, while my maternal grandmother hailed from County Clare, Limerick’s neighbor to the north. The basic difference between us: O’Mara sounds like an Irishman. Me, not so much.
Then there’s the matter of college track (or “athletics” as it’s called in Ireland). O’Mara ran for the University of Arkansas in the 1980s, while I was a shot-putter at Notre Dame several years earlier. He was a key member of a dominant wave of Irish middle-distance runners recruited by American universities in the 1970s, ’80s, and ‘90s (along with Eamonn Coghlan, Sonia O’Sullivan, Marcus O’Sullivan, Ray Flynn, and others). O’Mara went on to win an NCAA title, two World Championship gold medals, and to represent Ireland in three Olympic Games. In 1985, he was part of an all-Irish relay team that broke the world record in the 4 x 1-mile relay – a record that, nearly 40 years later, still stands.
Me? The peak of my collegiate track career was a second-place finish at the Ball State Relays in my sophomore season. (There were no medals; my prize was a too-small tee shirt.) Frustrated by my lack of progress and fed up with spending so much time in dank, windowless weight rooms with sweaty football Goliaths, I retired from shot-putting that spring. But I’ve kept an intense love for all things track and field ever since.
As for Parkinson’s disease (PD) – well, nobody comes out a winner on that one, but of the two of us, I’ve had the easier go by far. I was diagnosed four years ago, at 67, and my difficulties – mainly speech, swallowing, and a clunky gait – are still manageable. I get around without walker, wheelchair, or cane, and I’m fortunate not to have much of a tremor. And since I was an older man when PD came calling, I haven’t missed much that life has to offer. I watched my kids grow into adulthood before I got sick, and I retired from my pediatric career at a time of my own choosing, not prematurely knocked to life’s margins as so many are when PD strikes at an earlier age.
O’Mara’s course, on the other hand, has been nothing short of nightmarish. After being diagnosed with the early-onset variety of PD, his disease progressed rapidly. He soon experienced the worst symptoms that PD can dish out: severe gait disturbances, full-body tremors, excruciating muscle spasms, speech and language difficulties, complications from medications and treatments, and much more. He was sidelined from running, his great passion, and more-or-less forced into retirement from a highly successful career in the wireless communication industry.
He writes movingly – and heartbreakingly – of the impact on his close-knit family, of not being able to parent his three sons, Jack, Colin, and Harry, as much, or as long, as he’d have wished. It is O’Mara’s reaction to his plight, though, his refusal to give in to despair – to “break,” as his title suggests – that makes Bend, Don’t Break such a compelling read…
(You can read more of my "Bend, Don't Break" review at www.amovingdisorder.blog)
Thanks!
Mark Sloan MD
The commonalities only carry so far, though. Take the issue of Irish citizenship. O’Mara was born and raised in Ireland’s County Limerick; I’m a Midwestern American boy, a product of the “I-states”: Iowa, Indiana, Illinois. He became an Irish citizen at birth, while I claimed Irish citizenship only recently, “through descent.” My maternal grandfather, who emigrated to America in the 1910s, was a Limerick man, like O’Mara, while my maternal grandmother hailed from County Clare, Limerick’s neighbor to the north. The basic difference between us: O’Mara sounds like an Irishman. Me, not so much.
Then there’s the matter of college track (or “athletics” as it’s called in Ireland). O’Mara ran for the University of Arkansas in the 1980s, while I was a shot-putter at Notre Dame several years earlier. He was a key member of a dominant wave of Irish middle-distance runners recruited by American universities in the 1970s, ’80s, and ‘90s (along with Eamonn Coghlan, Sonia O’Sullivan, Marcus O’Sullivan, Ray Flynn, and others). O’Mara went on to win an NCAA title, two World Championship gold medals, and to represent Ireland in three Olympic Games. In 1985, he was part of an all-Irish relay team that broke the world record in the 4 x 1-mile relay – a record that, nearly 40 years later, still stands.
Me? The peak of my collegiate track career was a second-place finish at the Ball State Relays in my sophomore season. (There were no medals; my prize was a too-small tee shirt.) Frustrated by my lack of progress and fed up with spending so much time in dank, windowless weight rooms with sweaty football Goliaths, I retired from shot-putting that spring. But I’ve kept an intense love for all things track and field ever since.
As for Parkinson’s disease (PD) – well, nobody comes out a winner on that one, but of the two of us, I’ve had the easier go by far. I was diagnosed four years ago, at 67, and my difficulties – mainly speech, swallowing, and a clunky gait – are still manageable. I get around without walker, wheelchair, or cane, and I’m fortunate not to have much of a tremor. And since I was an older man when PD came calling, I haven’t missed much that life has to offer. I watched my kids grow into adulthood before I got sick, and I retired from my pediatric career at a time of my own choosing, not prematurely knocked to life’s margins as so many are when PD strikes at an earlier age.
O’Mara’s course, on the other hand, has been nothing short of nightmarish. After being diagnosed with the early-onset variety of PD, his disease progressed rapidly. He soon experienced the worst symptoms that PD can dish out: severe gait disturbances, full-body tremors, excruciating muscle spasms, speech and language difficulties, complications from medications and treatments, and much more. He was sidelined from running, his great passion, and more-or-less forced into retirement from a highly successful career in the wireless communication industry.
He writes movingly – and heartbreakingly – of the impact on his close-knit family, of not being able to parent his three sons, Jack, Colin, and Harry, as much, or as long, as he’d have wished. It is O’Mara’s reaction to his plight, though, his refusal to give in to despair – to “break,” as his title suggests – that makes Bend, Don’t Break such a compelling read…
(You can read more of my "Bend, Don't Break" review at www.amovingdisorder.blog)
Thanks!
Mark Sloan MD
September 8, 2024
The best book I have read this year. An inspirational story and a great insight into what living with Parkinson’s disease is like. Ultimately we will all be patients and this book shows how one can battle a chronic disease, acknowledging that Parkinson’s will ultimately win the battle, but you can also have your own wins on the journey. Thank you so much for sharing
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews