what i learned as a guide runner for simon webb

My friend Simon Webb runs marathons. He’s fast—way faster than me. In fact, he’s so fast I can barely keep up with him during our weekly run. While he’s happily chatting away, I’m huffing and puffing, only able to say a few words at a time. I run several paces behind him, clipping at his heels.

For most, this wouldn’t be a problem; it’s good to run with someone who’s faster than you, right? For Simon and I however, there’s a slight problem with this scenario: I’m his guide—he’s blind and deaf. I’m supposed to be the one leading him.

Simon was born deaf, and started losing his sight when he was eight years old. By 15, Simon was completely blind due to his rare genetic condition, Usher Syndrome.

On his runs, Simon’s wrist is loosely tied to his guide’s wrist. Sometimes he’s unaware of what is ahead, but he never feels scared. He says he’s learned to trust the person he is with and be comfortable with uncertainty.

On our very first run together, he warned me that there was a good chance he would fall over at some point. I spent the remainder of our inaugural run on high alert, terrified I’d run him off the road or into the path of a dog or low-lying branch. Simon was calm and trusting of my inexperienced guiding. “I’m very foot-sure, when two of your senses are muted, you learn to use what you have in ways a sighted person wouldn’t.”

Running with Simon has changed the way I approach life—he doesn’t let anything stop him. It would have been easy for him to become victim to his circumstance, to consider his disability a reason to stop dreaming big and to give up on going after things he wants from life, but he chose not to.

“I’d love to say I never wanted to give up, but that would be a lie,” said Simon. “There have been many occasions where I have wanted to take part in a sporting event and haven’t had the support around me to make that possible, by support I mean a guide runner or a person to ride the front half of a tandem bike.”

“A few years ago when I was stuck for running partners I approached a local running club, The Stragglers in Kingston Upon Thames, and have been extremely lucky with the support they’ve given me,” he said. “I’ve always been something of a thrill seeker, so I suppose running fast when I can’t see what’s in front of me is something I have the right character for.”

Simon’s positivity is a combination of his upbringing, life experience, connections, taking chances and making mistakes, and having the opportunity to explore the things he’s interested in. When Simon lost his sight during primary school, the local schools couldn’t support his needs, so he was sent 200 miles away to a boarding school for the visually impaired.

“I think boarding schools are the making or breaking of people. It made me who I am because I was given the opportunity to do a lot of sports which otherwise wouldn’t have been possible.”

As a teenager, he trained with the Great Britain Blind Athletics Squad, running a 12.5 second personal best over 100 metres, and in 2002 he competed for England in the Manchester Commonwealth Games.

Many people in the running community inspire me—there’s something about running that unleashes the courage in us to challenge ourselves. We push beyond our perceived limits and when we arrive there, we push again. Ask anyone who has set foot across the finish line of a marathon; they’ll tell you about their quest to get there, and the struggles and learnings along the way.

That’s the beauty about Simon. His philosophy is simple but powerful—something he humbly shirks whenever I tell him just how incredible he is.

We rely so heavily on our senses, not only on a basic navigational level, but also in the way we allow our perception of situations and the people we meet to be heavily gauged by what we see and hear. How often do we mute our intuition and gut-sureness, in favour of only seeing and hearing what we want.

Through his physical limitations, there’s a profound message for us all when we consider our mental limitations. We often can’t see what’s ahead, and we will fall, but we must go after what we want anyway—at times taking the hand of others who will help guide us along the way.

Want more on Simon? Check out his book, Running Blind, part sport book, part personal story of how a blind runner completed the London Marathon and even a bit about the fascinating city of London. Also, check out his blog, Simon Runs London.

Liz Goodchild is a certified life coach, passionate runner and co-owns a cool little company called Write This Run​​, which, in a nutshell, is an online and offline hub for fitness and running bloggers. She is also our Richmond showroom assistant manager. Follow along on her adventures on her website, Instagram, and Twitter.