BLIND DAVE’S BLOG

05-05-2007

This time next year, Dave Heeley will become the first blind runner to complete seven marathons in seven days on seven continents. In the meantime, he just had the little matter of the London marathon to negotiate. Here’s his blog of the weekend.

It’s Friday morning, and I’m standing on the platform at Sandwell and Dudley. I can’t believe it’s 12 monthssince we last ran the Marathon. 9.15 am on the train, 11 o’clock leaving Euston station, then heading for the hotel, our first port of call. Then onto the Expo to pick up our running numbers.

It’s always fun in London with a guide dog, especially on the underground. We’re not allowed to walk the dogs on the escalators, as it can damage the dog’s pads - so it was either pick up the dog or get the moving stairs stopped.

Well, I ain’t carrying Wicksie, so you know the answer! Great fun. Some of those escalators are so long, I think I’d walked the marathon, even before getting to the Expo. Still, a couple of underground trains and the DLR and we were there.

Mind, at the one station there was a staircase in between the escalators, and walking down it Mad Mac shouted out that someone had left a glass bottle on the steps. Too late though - I kicked it. Guaranteed to, wasn’t I? There it went, crashing and breaking, proving that there are plonkers in London too.

To hear the London Marathon signature tune is fantastic, it makes the hairs on the back of the neck stand up. For me, that’s the sign that the marathon has started. Plenty of runners about, picking up their numbers, the Expo is full of trade stands, every runner looking for the bargain, or chasing down their charity stand to say “hello”.

It’s all hustle and bustle, experienced professional athletes telling their stories and giving advice on how to run and not get hurt, it’s certainly worth a visit - in fact it’s THE visit for every runner taking part, what with picking up that all important number, mine being 32652.

The journey back on the underground was a bit more intense as it clashed with City workers heading for home, and guess what? On the same set of steps that I found the bottle, there was a can and I found that too with my foot, flattening it as I walked on. What’s the chances of that happening again?

The Saturday was a chillout day, and we made it a day for the girls. We visited the largest toy shop, Hamleys. The first word out of their mouths was “WOW”.

Debb said their eyes were on stalks and their heads were turning every which way. All we heard was “I would like this, I would like this.” We followed behind with smiles on our faces, Nan being pulled from shelf to shelf.

The next port of call was the Disney shop, in Oxford Street. It was the same in here. They didn’t know what they wanted - in truth they wanted every thing, but to be fair they don’t ask for too much, but as it’s their birthdays very soon it gave us plenty of ideas.

In the meantime, they came away with a few things to keep them happy, and after having a chat with both the assistant and manager of the store, theypromised a Disney team would enter the marathon next year, supporting Guide Dogs. That’s what I call a good day's shopping.

It was then back to the hotel for a quick cuppa, then off to see my friend at Bloomsbury. I was after a good deal on a new suit for the wedding in June of our mates Ritchie and Mel - I hope you’re both reading this blog, ‘cos I got new suit, new shirt, new tie and new belt.

Don’t ask the price and don’t you dare call the wedding off . I just hope no one spills a drink on me!

Here was the timetable for the Sunday.

5.30 am. Up and dressed, checked kit, make sure number is on

6 am. Down to breakfast, the dining room is packed

7.15 am. In taxi and on way to Charringcross station

8.03 am. On the train heading for Maize Hill and the green start.

This was the first time I’d started from the green start, it was certainly less congested, with only a couple of thousand runners instead of tens of thousands, but the start was a little confusing, as no one was placed in their time zones. It seemed a free-for-all.

In fact Karl Moore, one of our runners from West Brom Harriers summed it up. He was going for a 2.45 marathon time and he knew he was going to struggle, when a runner dressed as a Womble lined up in front of him. Nevertheless at 9.45 am we were off and running.

For the first couple of miles it was certainly a lot of pushing and shoving - not the best start I’d ever had - in fact it was organised chaos, but after the first five miles we got into some kind of running pattern, first joining up with the blue start and then the red, passing Woolwich Barracks, then moving on to the normal course.

The crowds were once again out in force, the glorious weather certainly helped, although it wasn’t exactly friendly to the runners. We pushed on, regardless, passing the Cutty Sark, crossing Tower Bridge, through the Docklands, moving ever closer to the Embankment.

To be totally honest ,the way the weather was hotting up I think every one was looking to finish and sadly there wouldn’t be too many personal bests.

I was running today in the memory of a friend, Sue Malpass, who sadly died last week and it was thoughts of her memory that kept me going.

I am not a hot weather runner and at around 23 miles I’d just about run out of steam but after having my last gel and savouring a jelly baby which had been passed to me somewhere on the course (I’d saved it for the last stretch) I found renewed energy and to my surprise enjoyed the last three miles more than I expected.

The Embankment was once again a fantastic wall of spectators, simply driving you on, down the Mall and into Saint James’ Park. The noise was once again deafening, it’s just wall to wall people, incredible.

I gave a thumbs up at the stand when Mac told me to, just on cue I was told later, right in line with Debb and the girls.

The finishing line - and for once I don’t mind admitting it - was a very welcoming sight. I normally don’t want the Mall to end, but today I was very hot, absolutely knackered. Maybe it was the weather but the marathon spark was missing.

Still that’s the sixth London marathon for me finished , priming up the seventh very nicely for next years challenge.

It’s now the fun really begins! Going over the finish line, up the small wooden ramp, having your chip taken off your shoe, down the other side and the famous London medal hung around your neck. There was a fifty yard walk for the goody bag and I was handed a welcoming bottle of cold water.

26 miles, very hot, swigging a nice cool drink and my head started to go a bit fuzzy, Mac leaned me up against a lamp post whilst he collected the kit bags, at this point things went a bit pear shaped, and for an instant I blacked out. It was the crash of my head hitting the floor that bought me round - thankfully, I fell on another runner which saved me from a severe head injury.

Mac said if I had been in the Olympic diving team, I would definitely have got a 10.

I fell on a runner lying on the floor, crying out in pain as his legs were cramping. Apparently, it took his mind off things for a moment, as 12 stone of Blind Dave dropped on him. He broke my fall but still I split my head open, crushed my hand, cut my knuckles - and the other chap was still screaming in agony. I did say sorry!

It was then the St John’s Ambulance took hold. They wanted to stretcher me away, but I refused. I’d had a bang on the head but I was OK. I told the lady in question it was a good job I landed on my head or other wise it would have hurt.

She kept telling me she was worried about concussion, I told her I was worried about missing my massage and all I wanted was a sit down and a cup of tea.

She was still concerned about concussion, though, and it was thenI sensed she was waving something in front of my face. Then she asked the classic, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What?” was my reply. “Can you see how many fingers I am holding up?”. “No,” I replied. It was then that she said, “I told you you were concussed”. “No,” I said, “I’m blind”.

I think she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. It’s funny now, but at the time I suppose it wasn’t for her.

It was then I was told there was a lot of blood coming from me, so I had to agree to get cleaned up and go in a wheel chair - you still feel a little silly all the same, strapped in, but off we went.

I did wonder at the chap who was wheeling me, he was puffing like an old steam train - you’d have thought he’d justrun the marathon. Then he said, “Hold on tight, we’ve got to do some limbo dancing”.

My feet went up in the air, my head went backwards and I found out later we were going under a fence, rather than walk all the way round. They might have told me exactly what was going on - it frightened the life out of me, perhaps it was one back for them.

Mac by this time had gone back to the Guide Dogs reception area, and their people Peter and Davey told me later that they were slightly concerned, asking Mac, “you seem to have an important bit of you missing”.

“What do you mean?” was his reply. “Where’s Blind Dave?” “In a big white tent over the way”. At that, they came and rescued me, and led me to the sanctuary of the Guide Dog reception area, for a cup of tea and my well deserved massage.

It was then I was told of all the other casualties. Germal (another member of West Brom Harriers who was representing Guide Dogs today) and Karl, had both experienced the heat.

Germal didn’t get his qualifying time and Karl had collapsed 10 foot from the finish line, having to crawl over, but still finishing in under 3 hours. We found out later that he’d made the national news, because he had been the first of the day to collapse. We all ribbed him later - what a way to get on the TV.

We also found out later that Germal was that tired coming down the Mall, he was only seconds behind Karl and never realised that he had collapsed and passed him by on the floor. It’s amazing what total focus does for you.

Mind you, we all said afterwards that Germal was so intent on beating Karl, he saw him lying there and passed him by to beat him. Germal denied it, but I was told he had a big smile on his face - talk about competitiveness.

Debb had her work cut out as well this year, 'cos she’d been given charge of The Stirrer’s camera and she was picking up the job of reporter very well, poking the camera in every ones faces and asking all those awkward questions. She said she had enjoyed it in a strange way - now all Adrian’s got to do is get the camera off her.

I think, overall, we all enjoyed the weekend, it was another marathon experience and Debb and the others enjoyed watching from the grandstand. Wicksie had a day without me, but every one has come back with another story to tell.

We all suffered but in a way I was the only one of us who strangely ended up with a PB, when I think about it. After all, I started at a different point, the green start ,so effectively it was a PB from my point of view, but I don’t think I will claim it as it was by default, but under the circumstances I’m more than happy with my time.

Well what a weekend, I’m sure there is plenty more to tell and plenty I’ve missed, but I know one thing for sure, the song that goes “leaning on the lamppost at the corner of the street” will have a different meaning the next time I hear it.

Please don’t give Ken Livingstone my address as he might send me a bill for the broken slab, so with heads, hands and knees sore but pride intact, here’s Blind “Concussed” Dave signing off for another week.

Next year, Blind Dave is going to do the West Midlands proud. He's running seven marathons in seven days on seven continents - and he needs your help. For details on sponsorship go to www.justgiving.com/777