Running with Ray
Hello,
everyone, this is a first for me. I am posting something written by someone
else! Lazy or what? Actually not! I read this article written by Sue Karstens
and thought it amusing, educative and insightful so on that basis I thought I’d
share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy it and if you’ve got something you’d
like to share let me know.
Some
years ago I worked in the accounts department of my local leisure centre.
I
had always loved sport in general, and one of my passions at that time was
running. Having participated in four London Marathons, I was looking for a new
challenge. It came in the form of a knock at my door, and the arrival of one of
the gym instructors.
“You
have run the London Marathon, haven’t you?”
I
nodded.
“How
would you feel about running as a guide for a blind runner?”
She
explained that she had a client in the gym who had been referred to her by his
GP. It was an unusual story; Ray had gone to work on a building site, where he
had fallen and banged his head. He seemed to be okay but collapsed at the
station on his way home, and when he woke up, he couldn’t see. No warning, no
history of illness. He went from sighted to blind in a heartbeat. He lost
confidence and became clinically depressed. The exercise programme was to aid
in his recovery.
It
was Suzy’s responsibility to design a fitness schedule. She told Ray to set
himself a goal. He said that he wanted to run the London Marathon. She smiled
and suggested a realistic goal, but Ray was adamant; he was not a man to accept
half measures!
Our
first meeting took place on the running track during my lunch break. My
training partner Helen had joined us because even at this early stage I
realised that I was going to need backup. If I became ill or injured at any
point, I didn’t want to impede Ray’s progress.
We
were all terrified. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be up to the task; the only
thing that worried Ray was that he would trip and take one of us down with him.
We got our heads together and decided that we should worry about getting the
training right, having a laugh, and accepting whatever may happen along the
way. With that in mind, we ran a couple of laps on the track, just to see how
we would get on.
The
first issue that came up was staying in contact with each other. We began by
holding hands, but it became apparent very early on that this would not work.
Sweaty hands and one-armed running would be unsustainable over twenty-six
miles. We tried a length of rope, but it
was just too flexible. Helen came up with the idea of using a dog pull – the
rubber bow-tie shaped toy. It was rigid when we needed it to be but would bend
when the distance between us closed up. Perfect!
After
a couple of training sessions on the track, we progressed to the road. What an
eye opener that was (if you pardon the expression!) I felt like a cross between
a sports commentator and a contestant on the Golden Shot (for those of you old
enough to remember the show). I spent my whole time going “Left a bit, Right a
bit, Puddle! Kerb coming up in three, two, one, down, three two, one up…
…
I had to be aware of every
step, pothole, grating, pile of wet leaves, stray Jack Russell that crossed our
path. Ray trusted us completely, which overwhelmed me. We progressed without
mishap – other than the odd stitch from laughing too much!
Our
next move was to participate in an actual road race. We chose a 10k, and duly
rolled up to the start. We started at the back, just to give us space to get
into our stride, but it wasn’t too long before we began overtaking runners.
This highlighted another issue. When running in a crowd, you can’t always see
the ground in front of you. This meant that both our instincts and reactions
had to be quick to avoid any last-minute hazards. Water stations were an issue
too, but with two guides, one of us could stay with Ray while the other grabbed
drinks for us all. There were other practical difficulties too. With two female
guides, we were very grateful to our fellow male runners who were happy to
assist with bathroom breaks and locker rooms visits.
All
too soon the day itself dawned, and we assembled, bright and early in Greenwich
Park. Helen began by trying to describe the scene, but gave up when Ray and I
fell about laughing; it wasn’t so much her “schoolteacher” manner, but the fact
that she was pointing to landmarks as she described them. We had discussed such
things in the bar after training on many occasions – how common expressions
suddenly seem tactless. “I see what you mean, or “look before you leap.” Ray
always wanted to avoid the Fawlty Towers “don’t mention the war” scenario,
where everyone tried not to mention the fact that he was blind. It was a fact,
not a judgement of him.
Early
on Helen had been mortified having spent half an hour being teased by Ray
because she had spent large sections of our run stopping to salute lone
magpies. She turned to him and said, “so what do you do when you see one
magpie?” There was a pregnant pause before he grinned answered: “Say Hallelujah
I suspect!”
The
start was always going to be problematic; Thirty-five thousand people milling
around, kit bags to get onto lorries, finding the portaloos, collecting bottles
of water, and all the general pre-race rituals. We positioned ourselves early
and allowed the assembled masses to gather around us. Tannoy announcements kept
us up to date with the progress of the race. An ironic cheer went up when it
was announced that the elite runners had gone past the three-mile mark when
many of us had yet to take our first steps.
The
race unfolded slowly. We walked much of the first mile, as the sheer volume of
runners made it impossible to pick up speed. Eventually, gaps opened up, and we
were able to settle into a comfortable pace.
To
say that the terrain was variable would be an understatement. Between carpets
and cobblestones, we all had to keep our wits about us. Water stations were a
nightmare, with plastic bottles strewn across the course for several hundred yards.
One wrong step and any one of us could have sprained an ankle. Due to a little
luck and a lot of preparation, we survived without incident. Helen still
insisted on keeping up the commentary (without the pointing), and Ray thought
she was getting her own back when she described the rhinoceros running beside
him. It wasn’t until we got him to stretch his hand out to the side and edged
him over that he came into contact with our thick-skinned companion. The smile
that spread across his face was a delight to witness. We were now officially
surrounded by lunatics!
Our
fellow runners were incredibly supportive. Helen had obtained some high viz
vests. Ray’s clearly stated “blind runner”, and Helen’s “guide”. I wanted to
run in a Scooby Doo costume and put “dog” on mine, but sadly they were only
available in size 7-8 years, so I had to settle for “guide” on mine too. It
just gave those running around us an opportunity to provide us with a little
more space, and more importantly not to try to run between us.
We
made it. We crossed the finish line arm in arm in slightly over 5 hours;
Helen (left) Ray (second left), Sue (far right)
Not
my fastest time, but far and away my proudest moment. Ray kept thanking us, but
in actual fact, it was his drive and enthusiasm that kept us going through
those dark February mornings in the pouring rain when we were heading out for
those long, long training runs. He never once faltered, never once complained.
Every challenge was met with joy and devilment. We carried on running for a
long while afterwards; anything from ten-mile road races to cross country –
complete with styles, ploughed fields, and loose horses. The highlight had to
be a ridiculous event, aptly named “Only Fools, Not Horses.” It is run over the
cross country section of the three-day event course at Blenheim Palace –
complete with jumps. Fortunately one of the burlier male runners joined our
team; we would never have got over the jumps without his help. It was my turn
to trust Ray as he braced himself at the top of the bigger jumps and reached
down to help me over. The water jumps were extraordinary, but Ray handled it
all like a well -trained thoroughbred. Princess Anne would have been proud of
him!
We
didn’t do it to prove a point. We just did it for the pure hell of it, and I
have photos of us laughing so hard that we can’t stand up straight. Don’t get
me wrong, I am not trying to belittle the enormity of the impact that losing
his sight had on my wonderful friend; but without it I would never have met
him, and would have lost the opportunity to understand the pitfalls that face
so many visually impaired people have to negotiate on a regular basis. They say
you should walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. We managed twenty-six, and for
all but Ray it was a real eye opener!
Sue
Karstens 2016
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