Let Me Take You by the, erm, Sweatband, and Guide You Through the Streets of London

Before I crack on with this entry,
can I suggest you take a look at this post, where I describe guide running, how it works and what it’s like from the point of view of a blind runner.

Also, if once you've read the article below you feel in any way inspired, Joggingbuddy.com have teamed up with British Blind Sport to offer a way of putting guides and blind runners in touch with each other.

The one thing I’ve not done yet is consider what guiding is like for those with the not inconsiderable responsibility of being in control. Of course, I can’t speak from first hand experience, but I know three blokes that can.

During my time with the Stragglers I’ve raced with five people, and am using three to help with training for my London Marathon debut.

The person I probably run with the most is also called Simon. There was a time when we ran together so much that other club members would find it odd to see me with someone else, or Simon on his own. The others whose thoughts I’ve sought for this article are Andrew and Jim.

As well as sharing names, Simon and I are also the most similar in running styles. Especially over shorter distances such as 5 or 10K, our approach is to start hard, give it everything we’ve got and hope for the best in the closing stages.

Andrew on the other hand will start more conservatively, even over 5K. This tactic is something I’ve tried hard to learn from him for longer races. He ran Wokingham with me recently, and of the thirteen miles, the first was the slowest, meaning I had plenty left in the tank for the closing stages.

It’s worth stressing none of my partners impose their running style on me, if I start too hard and blow up that’s my problem, however you don’t run regularly with someone and not learn from their experience.

Jim is the man for a speed session, and the one that pushes me the most. If I announce my objective for an interval session is eight repetitions, he’ll want to know why it’s not ten. He’s also the one most likely to tell me if he thinks I’m not running as well as I should, but equally will reward with praise in bundles if he feels it’s deserved.

To some blind runners, the guide is merely providing a service, but I’ve always thought of them as training partners who just happen to be making sure I don’t have any accidents, a view that Simon, Andrew and Jim all acknowledge is a great benefit to both runner and guide.

As Andrew says, “it has given me another regular running partner, especially because you have been training for a marathon at the same time as me.” Andrew is running the Brighton Marathon one week before London.

“Guiding has definitely benefited my own running. First, it puts a commitment in the diary which I would be reluctant to break. Secondly, it encourages me to keep fit. It is necessary to be about 30 seconds per mile quicker than a blind runner. This is because we then don't need to think about our own pace too much and can concentrate on guiding.”

Jim’s version of the same point is to say, “it gets me off my butt and out running, as I have a commitment to honour when on occasions I may not have bothered. So it’s definitely very positive.”

There are those within the club that have suggested Simon’s benefit has been a significant one physically. Having had a lengthy lay off due to a serious knee injury a few years ago, the fact that not every run he does is at the higher tempo that comes naturally to him, may well have contributed to protecting against any relapse. He’s not had so much as a niggle in the two and a half years I’ve known him.

As Simon is my most regular running partner, it is natural that he gets the most questions from other runners. He rather modestly claims “if I can do it, anyone can”. Actually, it’s this kind of laid back approach which makes someone good guide runner material.

“I do not think guiding is very different from running normally. I find that when I run on my own I can switch off and think of things other than running, but still manage to look out for potential hazards. I think the same applies to guiding. We often chat about stuff whilst running but subconsciously are still looking out for potential dangers. Who said men can’t multi-task?!

“The main difference I think (between guiding and running unattached) is of a technical nature. For example the arm that is holding the band is restricted in movement. When running on my own it helps to pump the arms to generate momentum, particularly running uphill. This is not so easy when guiding. Apart from that I have found that running as a guide has the same natural feeling as running on my own.”

The message we all try to get across when asked about the guide running experience is that there’s far less to it than people might, not unreasonably, think.

Jim points out, “a sighted person anticipates that there will be all sorts of problems to overcome that simply do not exist. One might imagine that the blind runner needs to know about all kinds of things related to the surface, surroundings or characteristics of the course to enable them to run free, when in reality you seem to need little more than being told when to go, keeping up with you and advising when a turn is required.”

Whereas Simon and Andrew only have their experiences of running with me to call upon when asked about guiding, Jim has run with, and watched close up, other blind people in action.

“An old friend of mine, Mike Peters, used to guide Britain’s greatest ever blind runner Rob Matthews, until Rob emigrated to New Zealand. They had quite a successful time together at the Sydney Paralympics, 10,000m (Gold), 5000m (Silver) and marathon (Silver). I remember running behind them in the London Marathon one year, until I got dropped, and the whole process of guiding seemed effortless. It has to be said that they were running a fair pace which meant there was plenty of space around them, and Mike was very direct and assertive in his communication which seemed to be the key with all the noise going on.”

Incidentally, Rob Matthews comes up in conversations with Jim a lot, usually when I’m trying to justify why I want to do eight reps rather than ten, or am generally feeling tired and want to go home. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been asked “but what would Rob Matthews do at this point?”

“I couldn’t give a stuff,” is usually my reply, perhaps replacing “stuff” with something stronger.

In addition to having confidence in your own ability to enable that assertiveness, what other advice do all three offer for potential guide runners?

As well as claiming anyone can do it if he can, Simon recalls our first time running together.

“We had a five minute practice within the safe surroundings of the Hawker Centre car park (where the Stragglers are based), before venturing out onto the mean streets of Ham. Before I knew it we were speeding along negotiating kerbs, lampposts and road humps without any difficulty. I also remember one of the first things you said to me was if you feel there is any chance of an accident, just grab my arm and stop. Simple advice I know but reassuring to me. Before hand I was slightly apprehensive because I had not guided anyone before, and was obviously keen not to mess it up or fall over in a heap! That said I had seen other blind runners take part in races and clearly it something that can be achieved and looks fun. So although a little nervous I was also looking forward to giving it a go.”

Similarly to Simon’s recollection of laps of a car park, Andrew suggests “choose a relatively easy stretch to run for the first time, such as a wide path or road in a park, rather than a crowded urban route with pedestrians and lampposts. Talk to your runner first, to see how much commentary they want or need, probably less than you expect, and relax and enjoy the run - it is very rewarding.

“Finally, I should just say that the double band figure of 8 is a wonderful invention!”

This is in reference to the sweat band, with a knot in the middle to create two loops, which I use to join myself with the guide.

Andrew continues, “anything smaller, and the runners would be a bit close together. Anything larger, and it would not be responsive to changes of direction. You mentioned that some guides hold the elbow of a blind runner, that must be really difficult.”

And, by way of proving a point, Jim’s thoughts are along the same lines.

“Just chill out and enjoy the experience. Take the cue from the blind runner regarding how they want to operate and then go with the flow. Make sure that you’re at least half a minute per mile quicker than the blind runner as things are a lot harder when you’re running close to the red-line.”

It can be even worse for the guide if the person they're running with is faster than they. In the first couple of months with the Stragglers I experimented with any willing volunteer, one of which described the experience as being like taking an excitable dog for a walk.

In helping me write this article, Simon, Andrew and Jim have all related comments to experiences they have had with me, most of which have been very complimentary. I have deliberately left many of these out, since the purpose of my writing this was to give a general overview of what guiding is like in the hope more might be tempted to give it a go, rather than a beginners lesson in what to do when attached to me. I believe that blind runners have a responsibility to make the experience for the guide as easy and enjoyable as possible, on a selfish note I’d be stuck without them. The wider point is that people are more likely to offer to help if they know it'll be fun, as well as being confident they can make a difference, or at least not screw things up.

The issue of confidence people with disabilities have, and the contributing factors to the level there of, is one which can be written about until the end of time. For some, just being given the chance to run at all will have invaluable benefits, be they physical or in terms of wellbeing. However at the sharp end, or certainly where running is done for the competitive thrill of taking on a significant challenge, Jim feels self belief on the part of the runner can make a massive difference to the guide.

“A confident blind runner like yourself is relaxed and hence responsive to the smallest adjustment or instruction, and this makes it very easy to lead. If someone is hesitant, then the experience could be anything but enjoyable.”

Simon too believes it certainly helps that I am relaxed about the whole experience. “You are clearly confident with your own ability and appear to have faith in us. I have noticed that if you do happen to trip your recovery is very impressive, I suspect much better than us sighted runners. You have probably developed this skill through necessity! I do not want to tempt fate but thankfully your ability to recover from a stumble has not been called upon too often! Guiding is great fun, as you have said, in previous posts, you are never lonely! The banter is great and gives us a chance to put the world right, or at least Brentford’s promotion chances! On a serious note guiding is also a very rewarding experience, particularly when a run comes together.”

So, as I said at the top, if having read this you do think you’d fancy giving this a try, a good first point of contact is British Blind Sport. The charity has an article on its website here, referencing a partnership between BBS and joggingbuddy.com.

It's Much More Friendly With Two

It’s dark, it might be wet, it’s certainly cold, bloody freezing is probably more accurate. Your tired, the bus has taken forever to do a relatively short journey, you had the misfortune of sitting next to the really fat person who takes up half of your seat as well as their own, that is unless you have to stand, there was a screaming child that gave you a headache even though you had your headphones on. You get home, the house is warm, the beer is cold, tonight’s football will be well worth your attention, what do you do?

That’s right, you go out for a run.

Why not give it a miss? Just this once. You’re tired remember, and it’s cold, you won’t run well, how can you run well? This is just the time you get injured, and think of the lovely sunny Sunday morning’s you’ll miss, not to mention the set back to your well worked out training plan. No one will know, well, only the people you live with, they won’t snitch, right?

But you can’t, you’ve agreed to run with someone, they’ll be hear in a minute, you’ll have to tell them you don’t fancy it. It’s always harder admitting it to someone else than yourself. Not to mention you had the bright idea to write a sodding blog about your training, and your stats page is telling you that people are actually reading it, damn!

My brain goes into split personality mode at moments like this, with the runner side of me always winning, not least because, like I say, it’s harder to quit when you have to tell someone else.

The argument I always put to my weaker side is, once you get out there, once you get moving, you’ll forget that part of you would rather still be in the warm. And that side of me is always right.

I’ve written a lot about the good and bad side of being a blind runner. One definite tick in the plus column is always having to run with someone else, no
loneliness of the long distance runner here.

During the week, when any or all of the above can come into play, having someone else there to encourage, motivate or even bully if required makes a big difference. Runners are humans, not machines, we all have moments where we’d prefer to cut a training session short.

Come the weekend and the long Sunday run, the time passes much quicker if you’ve got company, putting the world to right as you go.

Tomorrow my companion will be one who has just returned from supervising
England’s Ashes winning success; I’m hoping two hours will be enough to give me a full, day-by-day account of his three weeks down under.

I know some of the readers to this blog are not the exercising type. I’m pretty confident that some of these will have started the year with all the good intentions about getting fitter and being a bit healthier. If, or when, your brain starts having meetings with itself about whether the effort is worth putting in, toughing it out in pairs is so much easier.

Like Piglet said when wishing Pooh was with him as he was totally surrounded by water, “it’s much more friendly with two”.

Running Blind

As well as often being asked how I run, people are intrigued to know what it feels like to run when you can’t see where you’re going.

For those that haven’t followed earlier posts, my lack of sight means I have light and dark perception only, therefore I have no option but to run with a guide. I’m 31, and have been blind for over half my life, so I’m very comfortable facing challenges people might consider tricky without the ability to see what you’re doing.

I am attached to my running buddy by way of a sweatband bandanna, knotted in the middle to form two loops. I hold one, the guide the other, leaving us enough room to run as freely as possible, whilst allowing the guide to retain control for obstacle avoidance purposes.

A guide running partnership is all about teamwork, relying on confidence, communication, understanding, anticipation and practise. Like a sprint relay team, tennis or badminton doubles pair or defensive unit in football, when you don’t have these, you’re chance of success becomes much harder.

Above all though, trust is absolutely crucial if the blind runner is going to perform to the best of their ability, and that’s on both sides. The runner has to have one hundred percent confidence that the guide is going to do everything they can to ensure accidents are avoided. The guide has to be confident that they have the runner’s trust and that the runner will respond to instructions quickly, as well as trust in themselves to make the crucial calls at the right time, not being overly protective whilst not taking unnecessary risks. Both have to understand that a problem may occur, work hard to prevent this from happening or minimise their impact, but, when something doesn’t go to plan, it must not be allowed to have a negative effect on the bigger picture. A jockey will come off their horse, a cyclist will crash, a footballer will miss an open goal, a cricketer will drop a catch they should hold, the strong minded doesn’t let it affect them. If you run and you can’t see where you’re going, it’s inevitable something will go wrong at some point: that’s sport, live with it!

Anticipation becomes more of a factor the faster you run. I spent twelve years concentrating on track sprinting, with the 100 metres my most successful distance. Regardless of your level of sight, reaction times are vital, how fast you come out of the blocks can be the difference between winning and losing. I was always among the fastest starters in groups I would train with, beating people to the 30 metre mark even though they’d run the 100 metres in 11 seconds, whilst my personal best was 12.5. When I would run 200 metre races people standing at the finish line would sometimes be concerned I had false started as to them, I would move between seeing the smoke and hearing the gun: I managed to master the art of going on the B of bang. With this in mind, I am able to run fast, safe in the knowledge that I will respond, even if a warning is late.

When writing about Tadworth Ten recently, I made reference to the challenging ground conditions. This race was a perfect example of where the runner/guide relationship working well results in a strong performance. There were stretches of off road with many a bump in the ground where a sighted person could break an ankle if they weren’t concentrating. Where we ran on road, it was mostly down hill, and pretty steep. Jim, my guide on that occasion would later comment that my running was either courageous or foolhardy. Truth be told, it was probably a bit of both, but I’m only ever going to try something like that if I have faith that the person I’m attached to can take action if needed. In the case of Tadworth, had I been running with a lesser guide, or someone I wasn’t used to, my time would have been significantly slower.

How much information I like to be given does depend on the situation. There’s the minimum, curbs, tree roots, people and so on, but in a race situation I may ask the guide to tell me things which might help when fatigue becomes an issue.

“There are ten people ahead and I believe we can catch them,” they might say. This is a judgement I’m unable to make but is exactly the sort of thing which I would use to drive me on. There remains a sprinter hiding inside me and my competitiveness means I get a kick out of the knowledge I’m picking people off.

Sometimes, no matter the amount of information I’m given, not being able to focus on a target, or look at what’s around me, can be a challenge. The moment when fighting fatigue is when this becomes an issue. As the body and brain gets tired, thoughts lurking in my subconscious take over, think of it as like daydreaming in boring meetings, or thoughts keeping you awake at night. Often this takes the form of songs going round and round my head; frustratingly they’re usually ones I hate. I hope by writing about ones I like which I’m associating with running, or the London Marathon, might mean the likes of
Fall Out Boy and
The Script can be replaced with some decent stuff at my mental hour of need.

It’s said boxers go to some dark places in the mind when pushing themselves to the limit and beyond. I’m no psychologist, but I do know that if I feel I’m not running well, this thought can easily get tangled up with any other negative ones which might be lerking in my subconscious. Of course this can happen to anyone, and dealing with this is all part of toughing it out, a challenge I’d like to think I rise to. A word from the guide about how they think I’m running, a comment about who is around us or an update on mile splits and the brain is focused on the job again.

Whether being able to admire the scenery would make a difference to this mind wandering I can’t say, I’m sure were I watching out for obstacles this concentration would keep me occupied. Alternatively I’d be brought back to reality with a bump by running into a tree. All together now:

“George George George of the jungle, strong as he can be!”

(Photo taken by Nigel Rothwell of The Stragglers)

Guide Running: An Explaination

The question I get asked the most when I tell people that I run is, not unreasonably, how?

For those who don’t know, my sight level, or lack of it, amounts to light and dark perception only. This means I can wake up in the morning and see how light it is outside, always useful if I’ve overslept in the winter. If a light in a room is especially bright then I can pick that out, and on a particularly bright day I can make out shadows and large objects, such as buildings, although only if I’m close up.

In short, what I can see is not a lot, and is certainly no use when it comes to running.

To my knowledge there is no official method of guiding a blind runner at International level. There are rules, such as the guide must never be ahead of the person their guiding, think of it as like
straying offside in football. If the guide crosses the finishing line ahead of the runner, even if only by a fraction of a body part, then, as I have found out through experience, you’re disqualified.

How person A guides person B and what they are attached to each other by is, within reason, down to what feels most comfortable.

I have heard of occasions at fun runner level where the blind runner chooses to hold the elbow of the person guiding them. Internationally I would imagine this would be against the rules since the guide would be in front of their runner, and my personal opinion is that this also limits your arm movement and, as a result, means you inevitably don’t go as fast as you might. At fun running level if this is how the blind person feels most comfortable then great, but it’s not something I would ever do.

My preferred way is very simple. I’ve taken one of those sweatbands that go around the head and tied a knot in the middle to create two smaller loops. The guide holds one loop and I hold the other. This allows the guide to retain control when necessary, whilst giving enough room for the arms to move in a relaxed way.

I’ve no idea who thought of this, it was introduced to me by an excellent guide who I raced with during my time with the Great Britain blind athletics squad in the late nineties.

We often hear about footballers with random superstitions, coming out of the tunnel last, wearing a certain colour pants, not putting their shirt on until they get into the tunnel and so on. I have two guide bands which I use, one of these has a loop slightly smaller than the other. Let's just say I always try and race with that one, and always hold the smaller loop. Oh, and the knot in the middle must point forwards: all as important to my success or failure as training and recovery, ahem!

Once someone has seen how the guide and runner are connected, the other question I encounter a lot is, how do I actually guide you? What they’re getting at is, how do they control me, what information do they need to give, how do they avoid bouncing me off trees and lamp posts and so on?

The answer to this is just as simple. Worn me about curbs, tree roots, speed humps and anything else I might fall over, but that aside, go with your instinct. I like to let the guide give me as much information as they feel comfortable with, after all, it’s their responsibility to make sure I finish my run in one piece. If for piece of mind they want to tell me more then that’s absolutely fine by me.

I’ve been extremely lucky in the last couple of years. Mid 2008 my regular running partner moved to another part of London, making meeting up to train much more difficult. Seeking Google’s assistance I searched for running clubs in South West London and, as luck would have it,
The Stragglers came out top of the list.

Two things stood out. Their closeness to where I live, the club meet at the
Hawker Centre in Kingston, and a line I saw on their site describing them as “a drinking club with a running problem” – perfect!

So, having explained how I run, here are a few performance stats for anyone interested, distance followed by personal best.

5K: 21:08
10K: 44:03
8 miles: 58:25
10 Miles: 73:23
Half marathon (13.1 miles): 1 hour 36:36

I have run some of these distances faster, during longer races, for example when setting the 10 mile time listed, I reached 8 miles quicker than the race time I've given. I don't count mile splits within races as personal bests, even though technically they are.