Running Blind - Gary Wells

Running Blind

An insight to running blind in the Great North Run

All the training in the world could not prepare me for the challenge
ahead, I thought I had done enough preparation for the blindfolded
race but it proved to be tougher than expected.
The day had come, the start was minutes away and I was looking around
at the other 40,000 runners eagerly awaiting to see the start line
pass under their feet. The horn went and that was it, the blindfold
was on, it was lights out and I was in the hands of my guide, Karl. I
did not even see the start line under my feet, people were brushing
past my left shoulder, bumping me as they strived for the best start.
Karl kept me on a tight lead for the first mile as we started to
settle into a dark pace. The roars of encouragement seem to be ten
times as loud as normal but one spectator drowned them all as he said
" look at him, he's got a blindfold on". The next three miles went to
plan as I had ran up to this distance blindfolded before during
training, the sounds of feet striking the road and the crowd cheering
seemed enhanced as my sight was blocked. Five miles went by and we was
on target with our 8 minute miling but then I caught the heels of
someone in front of me which knocked me off my stride. I could hear my
heart thumping in a little panic as I reached out waiting to run into
someone but there was nothing there. Karl eased the nerves whilst
guiding me back to space, this reminded me that this was not going to
be an easy task. Approaching mid point in the course the sun is
shining and I felt hot, a little dizzy and a little sickly. Karl says
a drink station is ahead and I ask him to grab a water a bottle. I
feel Karl reached for a bottle and it happened again. I collided with
a runner who stopped dead in front of me only this time the sense of
panic increased as I felt my ankle twist. Karl tugged the lead hard to
pull me towards him as I stumble for the second time, once again I
could feel my heart thumping, my hand reaching out for space. With panic over and a little water on board we started to climb yet another hill, "nearly there" said Karl, "keep going".
All I could do was keep pounding upwards, the sense of not being able
to see made the hill hard work as I had no goal to aim for. You can
feel the road under your feet level off at the top of the climb and
this is a welcome feeling. Mile 10 passes, the crowd still shout for
us, the odd runner flies by shouting "well done lads, keep it up, only 3 miles to go"
My legs are now starting to tire, my eyes are now starting to ache,
even though I had them closed, and a head ache was now starting to
annoy me. I ran silent, as I was knew the last hill was going to be
tough, and tried to prepare myself for another bout of climbing. "A bit of a climb now"
says Karl, you can feel the incline of the road start to raise and my
legs tighten as we start to climb. Other runners sense I was tiring
and pat me on the back as they struggle past which gives me the urge to soldier on.
Karl tells me people are walking now and I can hear others puffing
their way up the hill. I try to pick up the pace, but struggle as now
more of me start to ache, even my left arm was now aching as I had
been clinging on to the lead, my lifeline, for over 1½ hours now. We
were at the top, a welcome relief and Karl urged me to run fast down
the last hill which I did to my surprise. As we turned the last corner
I was rapidly running out of fuel, my left leg was dead, energy levels
were at an all time low and my headache was now in full swing. I felt
delirious, as if I was drunk, but my hearing had always seemed to be
at a super level throughout the run. With 800 yards to go my left leg
was now numb and kept failing me, I could feel the lead tighten as
Karl was urging me on. Nearly there I thought! I could feel the
anxiety of the crowd as I somehow knew they were watching open mouthed
willing me on. My leg gives again and then I hear a voice saying "do
you want a lift with him to the line?" as another Guide Dog runner
grabs my arm to ensure I cross the line. It was over, I had done it!
As I gasped for air, Karl removed my blind fold to reveal the strong
sun light to make sure I was ok but it made things worse. I staggered
around feeling sick, unable to focus and for a few seconds unable to
breath. A first aid crew was on standby and as I tried to focus I
could make out a wheelchair in front of me. Somehow the feeling of
euphoria took over me, my eyes were beginning to focus, aches
beginning to subside and I stood up straight and walked over to
collect my medal thanking God that I was lucky enough have my sight and to be able to see my medal.
My good friend, Blind Dave, congratulates me having tried to put my
self in his shoes, but after 'running blind' he is the one who
deserves the credit. He is the one who will never see the start, the
crowd, the road, the scenery, the famous land marks, the finish, his
medal, his finishers T-shirt but nevertheless, his disability does not
stop him from doing what he loves to do....anything he wants to!




Blog 2

Running Blind: The Final Chapter




Driving home from the Great North Run on the 1st October was a drive I
will not forget for a long time to come, emotions where high as I had
just completed the first of three blindfolded runs and a personal best at that!
After driving for an hour, my eyes where aching non stop from the
pressure of the blindfold during the half marathon, my legs did not
feel like my own and the feeling of sickness kept me company for the whole trip home.
The feeling of sickness seemed to increase once I realised that this
was only the first of three blindfolded runs but hey, I will make a
full recovery, unlike the blind!
Liverpool was the next stop where Mac was guiding both myself and
Blind Dave around the 10K course, a race that Mac was not looking forward to.
After a brief interview with the local radio station at the start it
was time to embark on race number two but it was with a difference as
we started at the very back of the pack. This was new to us all as
none of us had ever started last before and as I donned the blindfold
for a second time, the look of despair on Macs face was one to
remember! Soon we were amongst the pack and trying to get three
abreast through a pack of over 3500 people is not an easy task, even
with sight. "Blind runners coming through" Mac would shout as I
clipped the heels of fellow runners. People parted in amazement as
they saw us pass and I have to say, everyone we passed gave us huge encouragement which made us feel at ease some what.
Feeling at ease did not last long as the pack tightened towards a
bottle neck, "stay close to me" said Mac, "Dave you go first". My
heart missed a beat when I heard Mac ask Dave to go first, that really
was the Blind leading the Blind but with a few training runs around
his home town of West Brom, I have learned to trust his judgement. The
rest of the race was much the same and we even managed a good pace
towards the end as the pack thinned. Mac did a tremendous job, guiding
us from very last to over half way up the pack and to a finishing time
of just over 52 minutes. This race was all about raising awareness for
Guide Dogs and with coverage from local radio and newspapers, this was definitely mission accomplished.
The next stop was The Great South, held in Portsmouth, which is a ten
mile race on the flat. Krazy Karl once again was my guide for the
race, the last one of three was about to begin. We managed to get to
the very front of the first wave and as we watched Mac and Blind Dave
leave before us I was donning the blindfold for the last time. It was
starting to rain as we started but it had not dampened my spirits as
we got off to a flying start with the first mile done in little over 7
minutes. Karl was keeping an eye on times and we agreed we needed to
slow down. It was now raining hard and as mile two passed, once again
it took just over 7 minutes. I could hear the chants from the crowds, who where out in force despite the weather.
Kids would shout "look there's Superman" as we pass. The road surface
would change from cobbles to tarmac, the rain was pouring down and we
had
8 miles to go. There was more space around us this time than at the
previous runs, a thing I am sure you sense easier when you have no sight.
This made for better running and as we approached mile 5 I was feeling
very Olympic especially as I heard Mac and Dave shout encouragement as
they passed on the return leg of the course. It was then Karl said "oh
no, my lace has come undone, keep going it will be alright". I urged
Karl to stop as he was now dragging his foot to keep his shoe on and
reminded him that if he falls, I fall too! This put me off my pace a
little but with cheering out of our names from the crowd, we were soon back up to speed.
As we ran close to the finish, I could hear the excitement of the
closing stages of the Elite runners but we had over 3 to do yet before
we doubled back. As we turned to run back down the sea front at around
mile 8, the wind took our breath away but with encouraging words from
Karl I focused on running the last 2 miles. With a mile to go, Karl
was pushing me to run faster but the flying start was taking its toll
and I promised myself to keep the same pace and not flake out at the
finish line. The first I knew of the finish was Karl shouting "ok, ok,
ok, stop, you have finished", he had made up his mind not to tell me
when I had crossed the line in order for me to keep the pace up. It
worked as we crossed the line in 1 hour and
19 minutes, another personal best!!
Having completed three races, blindfolded, there was something a
little different about the last one, some kind of weird feeling which
I could not put to rest, something that stands out from the other
two....... Then, I realised the difference! Unlike the other two, I
had just ran a race but I have no idea where! Yes, in Portsmouth, but
that's it. Yes I knew that I would not see the sights along the way,
the celebrities competing or the crowds lining the roads but it's a
very strange feeling, almost a dizzy one, knowing you have just ran a
race but don't know where. You see, the Great North and Liverpool, I
know well but Portsmouth is a place I have never been before so this
is kind of unique to me. Then I get to thinking about Blind Dave and
realise that all his races are like this and that the man himself deserves more credit than most for running without sight.
The whole idea for me with these three races was to put myself in Daves'
shoes and to try and understand what running blind feels like. Every
runner in every race can soak up the atmosphere, the excitement, feel
the adrenalin, see the crowds cheering you along but without sight all
these are left to a blind mans imagination.
Dave loves to run and as long as he can run, he will carry on
inspiring people like me and raising thousands of pounds year after
year for his beloved charity, Guide Dogs. But let me tell you a
little secret about my good friend, Dave would hang up his running
shoes without any hesitation just to be able to see again even if it
was just for one last race!
Dave, you are definitely a Superhero, I would like to thank you for
all your help and support during this challenge and wish you all the
best for forthcoming events.

Garry Wells