Jasmine Murrell won’t be able to marvel at the stunning skyline views or massive crowds when she runs her first marathon in New York on Sunday, but the blind runner plans to feed off the “vibes” of the race.
Her husband, Kevin Orcel, who also suffers from glaucoma but at an early stage, is there.
“We will be together at the starting line, and after a kilometer or two she will be gone,” the 33-year-old said with a smile.
Murrell already completed a marathon in Houston in January, while Orcel has only a dozen half marathons under his belt.
Each runner will be accompanied by two volunteer guides from Achilles International, a global organization that helps people with disabilities participate in athletics.
One of Murrell’s two runner partners trained with her.
“It’s important,” Murrell, 36, said. “I feel like we have a connection. We understand each other. They already know what to call and the best way to communicate with me.”
Murrell can only see “shadows and shapes” on his right side and nothing on his left.
Orcel is able to follow “figures and movements” but cannot distinguish writings. “So I tell my guys to always read the signs to me, a lot of them are quite funny and can be quite motivating.”
As for Murrell, “It will be the vibrations of the crowd and then the cheers and all that noise, that will translate into stimulation, in the form of vibrations, so I will still be able to feel the energy and feel that adrenaline rush.” .
– ‘Quite liberating’ –
Tianna Biscone, an Achilles guide, said she is sure to “always ask for preferences first” regarding how and what runners want to communicate.
“For some people, running is really hard and they just want to focus on their race,” says the 26-year-old data analyst, who will assist a marathon runner on Sunday in New York.
“It’s so fun, especially during a marathon, to call out fun signs or fun costumes that we see…to help them experience that in a different way.”
Being part of a crowd of more than 50,000 visually impaired or blind runners seems like a challenge, especially in New York, where many participants have limited or no understanding of English.
“My first race was when I was 22, and I never moved without my cane,” recalls Francesco Magisano, director of Achilles for the New York region.
“Trusting that nothing was in front of me and finding myself in nothingness was one of the scariest things I have ever done.”
Francesco, who is blind, overcame this problem, but “it took a few months of regular running to get to the point where I felt comfortable enough to be able to relax a little.”
He has since run a marathon in three hours and 30 minutes and was the first disabled person to compete in an Ultraman event – the equivalent of several grueling Iron Man triathlons rolled into one.
Traditionally, a visually impaired runner is linked to a guide by a tether. A second partner runs just ahead to spot obstacles or dangers.
“Last year, I didn’t realize I was tired until mile 25” of a 26.2-mile marathon, said Sarah Luposello, an elementary school assistant principal and Achilles volunteer. “It was so much focus.”
A guide should constantly check the route ahead, she added. “Is there a path? Is there a pothole? Is there a manhole cover or banana peels? Is there a gas station? water ?”
For Tianna Biscone, the challenge is unique. “I always lose my voice after guiding a marathon, because you talk all the time,” she said. “That’s why I love him so much.”
As for visually impaired athletes, getting used to running can turn the experience from frightening to exhilarating.
“As a blind person, crossing the road is probably one of the scariest things you can do,” Orcel said. “So being able to run on the road and know that the path is protected, I think it’s quite liberating.”
His wife agreed.
“It’s just fun,” Murrell said. “Just to not think about anything. All I have to do is run and reach the finish line.”
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