Simon Wheatcroft: Running Blind

Blind athlete Simon Wheatcroft finds a way to run marathons by himself.

Simon Wheatcroft’s utilization of technology has enabled him to achieve incredible goals. From learning to train solo outdoors as a blind runner, to crossing deserts alone. It is his ability to adapt technology and engage those who create it, to redefine possibilities. His vast experience in the world of technology and psychology give him a fantastic base for his talks on diversity, inclusion and technology. Simon continues to push boundaries and motivate others to: reimagine what is possible through changes in thought processes; and believe that anything is possible.

This story originally aired on April 7, 2017.

 
 

Story Transcript

Hi, everybody. My name's Simon. People may have noticed that I am blind. That's what's the dog's actually for. Just to give people an idea of what I can see, because blind means quite a lot of things.

I have light perception, so light is okay. I can't see anybody, but I can tell there's a light at the back of the room. Not too sure where that light is, but there is a light. Bear that in mind as I start my story.

My story doesn't start with technology. It starts with an idea. An idea was to climb to the top of a mountain and propose to my girlfriend. Now it's so much effort, because there's no way she's going to say no when you do the math.

I've never climbed a mountain before but how hard can climbing a mountain be? Around 5:00 a.m, at the base of a mountain, it was half [inaudible 00:02:24], we began a hike.

Two hours later, I was thinking, I always thought mountains were quite steep. This seems really flat. It turned out for two hours, we'd been walking in the wrong direction and really struggled with that. My girlfriend can see so I thought, "How didn't you notice the mountain was getting smaller the further we got away."

Eventually we turned around and found the mountain. Mountains are steep and mountains actually are hard to climb for people who have never thought to do it in a whim. As we began to climb and as I began to slip and trip and stumble, and this is basically because I couldn't see, but I didn't really want to quit.

I really wanted to get at the top and propose, so I really stuck with it, but the more I stuck with it, the more I began to trip. There were a few cliff phases on that mountain, and I thought if I fall off, it's going to ruin the day.

I would think about this. At halfway point, you can have a little scene out there, sat down, had a really difficult conversation, and that conversation was basically we're quitting, because I can't see.

That was something that was very difficult to live with. But I did still propose, my girlfriend said yes, got married in Vegas a couple of weeks later, spent a few more months in America and then I returned to the UK.

When I returned to the UK, this idea of quitting because I couldn't see really plagued me. It was very difficult to live.

I [sat with myself 00:03:55] for one day and thought to myself, ‘What can I really do to push against this and do something that perhaps someone who's blind wouldn't really take on?’ That was running. ‘How hard can it be to go outside and learn to run alone?’

That time, [inaudible 00:04:14] in football pitches, so I walked down to the football pitches, positioned myself between the goal posts in the middle, and just ran up and down the football pitch.

At the same time, I was really grateful that an app on my phone came out called Lawn Keeper. What was interesting about Lawn Keeper is, for the first time, you didn't have to look at the screen to get information, being distance or pace.

It came through audio. I got to find out that I can't run very far and I run really slow, but at least I had this information so [I started my 00:04:4] training, and then it got a little too dangerous to train on the football pitch and that was thanks to the dog walkers. They assumed I could see; I assumed they would move. It was time to find somewhere safer.

Again, at that point in time, I was really fortunate to live in an airport. The airport was finished, the infrastructure was not, so that meant there were a lot of closed roads - no cars, no pedestrians, no dog-walkers, just closed roads.

My wife would drop me off at a closed road. What was interesting about the closed road is double lines, so I could run, feel the double lines on the foot, turn around, run back down, stop and down the road.

What I did begin to notice is the app I was using on my phone would always trigger 0.3 miles around the time it hit from [inaudible 00:05:30] to four. I thought to myself, ‘What if I compare what it feels like under four, with distance markers, and then try the open road.’

One day, my wife dropped me off. I waited till she left, built some courage, ran up and down this road, and stepped out to a dual carriage way. I told myself that cars move, and just ran down the road.

I got to the bottom of the road and burst in tears. I couldn't believe what I'd done. A few weeks ago, I was on a football pitch, went to a closed road, and now I was running the open road. But there's one thing I did know, and that's if I didn't get back to the closed road before my wife did, she was going to kill me.

Now I could run quick, go back to the road and she'll pick me up. For a few weeks I [came with 00:06:11] this sort of facade that I was training on the closed road, but I'd just wait till she'd leave, step out into the open road and begin the process of learning to run.

There was always, thankfully, something I could use in default. Sometimes it was the curb for the pavement. If one foot is higher than the other, you can tell if you're drifting. Sometimes there'd be grass at one side or bush on the other so you can tell if you're twisting again. There were a few [odd spots like 00:06:35] lamp posts, road signs, traffic lights and trees.

The only way you find them is by running into them, but you mark that on Lawn Keeper and you make sure you do the side of the pavement next time, and you avoid it. There's one obstacle that really does stick out for a male runner, and that's traffic cones. Very unfortunate height, and people like to move traffic cones.

Eventually just started in the field but [inaudible 00:07:04] training had to break it to my wife, quickly banned from running. I was never let out of the house ever again, but if you mop around long enough, [you’re quickly let out of the house again [ 00:07:10], so now I was back out and I was training, and I thought to myself, I wonder how far I could run. Maybe I should enter a race.

I went on that day and entered the [inaudible 00:07:22] race. From beginning to train, to race day, it was six months. I don't know if anyone does [inaudible 00:07:30], but six months is very short time frame to go from nothing to 100.

It usually takes about two years. Fast forward to race day, while I learnt to train solo, no way I could compete solo. I can't memorize 100 miles. It's just not possible. I used a series of guide runners. They would run alongside and we'd just run the entire race together.

People, I remember I trained in an airport. Airports generally being pancake flat. I picked a race in the cross-worlds. I didn't see the elevation game map on the website so I assumed some roads are going to be relatively flat. Cross-worlds are not flat. Never ran a hill before, so after 50 miles of hill, I was broken.

Physically, mentally, I was a mess. Did what I always do; I cried. Stopped crying, sat down, and I thought, ‘Can I quit? I didn't want to quit again. There was no way I was going to quit, but I was willing to fail. The only way you can fail in that race, is if you can no longer stand, so I stood back up.

I ran thirty three more miles. I could no longer stand, and I was removed from the race, but in six months, thanks to a piece of technology, I'd gone from not being able to run, to running eighty three miles. It was a great achievement and since then I continued to compete.

I did 5Ks, 10Ks, 50Ks, 100Ks. Lots of different races but never quite done a marathon so I thought, ‘Maybe I'll enter the New York Marathon’. What's interesting about New York is it's [inaudible 00:09:04] close to Boston. Boston is where Lawn Keeper was developed. I thought why not run from the headquarters of Lawn Keeper to the start line of New York and run the marathon. That's around two hundred and sixty miles. I did do that.

It was a beautiful adventure, but getting back from that I thought, ‘Technology allowed me to train solo. Perhaps technology will allow me to compete solo. I thought, "Where could a blind person go and compete alone?" I thought the desert. There's not much to an in-tail. Just run around there, it will be fine.

Final race, I called the race director and said, "I've got a great idea. I'm blind. I want to run your race alone. Will you let me do it?"

He said, "Okay. Maybe we will. Have you got something that's going to help you with the navigation?"

"Absolutely."

Put down the phone. I couldn't believe she believed the lies, so now I had to make something to run across the desert alone. After a lot of procrastination and eight weeks away from the race, eight weeks, still no way to navigate.

Thankfully, that late in the day, I managed to partner with IBM and together we did create a piece of technology which would allow me to navigate through the desert.

Really simple technology. Basically the desert, no matter the shape, even if it's a circle, is a series of straight lines. A straight line is a bearing. Bearing navigation is really simple so you can make something that makes sure you're on the bearing.

As soon as you deviate, it can bring you back on to the bearing. We used beeps, much like a parking sensor, so the beeps would then bring you back in line. You always know you're on the right course.

Silence was the intended mode of the system. If it beeped, you know you're going wrong. Fast forward to race day, we only had eight weeks to develop this, so quite rapidly, we made a few key assumptions, because you've got to when you have quite a tight time frame.

The course is not going to change, and there's going to be no obstacles. The race organizers assured me of those two things. In terms of the race, seven days in the desert, you've got to survive in the desert as well. The countdown starts - 10, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

"We've changed the course."

"What do you mean you mean you changed the course? This is how I coded. There's nothing I can do when they all changed it."

I was like, "Great. What have you done to the course?"

"We've moved it 100 meters to the right for the first six miles."

I said, "That's not too bad."

[inaudible 00:11:24] navigating through silence, I've just got to navigate through some beeps." It turns out you can navigate on beeps.

Day one, ran the marathon today - it works. Open plan navigation, it turns out you can do blind, fantastic. Running through the desert, I can't believe that I'm managing to do this. I started running on a football pitch, now I'm running through a desert alone.

Absolutely fantastic. Finished day one on a real high. Day two, we go out, [inaudible 00:11:58], open plan navigation working really well, really well, running through what I imagine is a nice open desert.

All of a sudden, I take a massive blow to the face. I hit the deck. I was like, "What happened? What happened?" I'd been assigned a ghost runner who basically followed me and made sure I didn’t die.

They come running over and say, "You all right?"

I'm like, "Yeah. What happened? What happened?"

"You ran into a flagpole."

I said, "A flagpole? Is there a lot of flagpoles?"

"No, there was only one."

In 800 kilometers of desert, I found the one flagpole. I stand back up. Do what I always do, cry, then kept on running.

Finished day two, head out day three, again, feeling great, this thing's working. Getting to the [inaudible 00:12:44] station, race organizer comes over again, [seeing how soon inaudible 00:12:47] is going to happen, "Simon, there are some objects."

"What do you mean there's some objects?"

"There's a rock-field."

"Okay. What kind of rock-field?"

"Just a lot of rocks."

I head out to the rock field, approach the rock-field, and the [inaudible 00:13:03] says, "Are you sure you want to do this? This looks really bad."

I'm like, "How bad is it?"

He says, "There's rocks the size of your fist , up to a loaf of bread, density is sprinkles on a doughnut."

I go like, Okay. Let's give it a go."

I head into the rock-field, [inaudible 00:13:18] when you're in a rock-field and can't see. I'm trying to go through this rock-field and I'm just slipping, falling. I take the skin of the bottom of my left foot, I tear the IT band off my left leg, but I don't want to stop.

I push through this rock-field, get to the end, and finish the day. Tell myself if I can stand the next day, I'm going back out.

I could stand the next day. It would have been a lot easier if I couldn't. I could have stayed in bed. I stand up and I go back out. I go back out and again, there's another rock-field, but at this point I have sustained some phenomena damage with the point where if I can go forward, my adventure and career may end in this desert.

I made the very difficult decision to walk away. Actually, I was carried away, couldn't walk, and I left that race. Though I'd proved, thanks to technology, that I could go off from training solo to competing solo, and it was a fantastic achievement. Now I'm back in the UK.

I want to go back to that desert. I want to finish this time. Now, go back to the old training route. The old training route, I probably should have mentioned, is next to a not only a dual carriage way, but roads that are seventy miles an hour so if you make a mistake by a few inches and it's game over.

First day out, back from injury, my wife drops me off, and ten minutes later she gets a phone call, "You've got to find me. I'm hurt." She comes up, finds a trail of blood, which leads to me and it turns out what happened is someone had left a burnt out car in the middle of the pavement. I obviously couldn't see it, landed straight into it, it went into my sheen, sliced open my leg and I've not got a nice scar on my arm when I tried to save myself falling forward, and it sliced right through my arm.

A lot of blood and I'm thinking to myself, "I need to get some technology to solve this problem." I ran into a flagpole; I ran into burnt out car. I can't keep running into things. Now, I'm working again with IBM and we're working on some ultrasound technology, which basically uses haptic feedback, bounces that signal, comes back, then it vibrates along my body, so I can know to go left and right and avoid the obstacles.

So the idea is hopefully Boston next year, to become the first blind person to ever compete solo in a city marathon. This is all thanks to technology. It managed to get me out there running, alone and I've managed to achieve fantastic things. That's my story. Thanks for listening.