Runner Insight

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This time of the year poses some definite challenges for me as a blind runner.  One of them is the change in the lighting outside. As the sun is at a different angle, there are more shadows and well, just odd lighting that is hard for me to visually interpret sometimes. 

To someone with normal eyesight, the seasonal lighting change is not a big deal; it’s just a matter of fact. It’s what triggers the changing colors of the leaves and sometimes our moods for people with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). 

But for me it’s when I do a lot of kung fu running.  What is kung fu running?  

As I’m running along, out of nowhere, a shadow wanders across my visual horizon.  It might be a tree limb blowing in the wind, or a passing car casting a shadow or reflection of light off a mirror or some other shiny surface. 

What ever it is, it will cause me to suddenly throw up my hands in an attempt to protect myself from dangerous shadows!  It may look to the casual observer like I’m being attacked by invisible bees, or that I have some kind of nervous twitch, or perhaps like I’m ready to fight. I’m a little curious as to what people passing by must think of this bizarre behavior.   

Hard as I may try, it’s hard to quell the urge to protect myself from all manner of lurking shadows out to waylay me on my journey. I thought that running with the white cane would cure me of this need to shadow box, but yet it prevails. Even when I have my white cane out and in front of me, and I am confident nothing is there, I still find myself occasionally flailing about because an errant spark of light or shadow has crossed my visual path.

And it’s not just the speed of movement when I’m running that causes it. I even find myself throwing the occasional karate chop while walking. I nearly always hold onto T’s arm as we walk, so I won’t wander off the trail. She is always really good about telling me when there is something I need to be aware of, like a mud puddle or dog or whatever. So on our walk one day when I suddenly jumped and self-defensively threw a quick defensive chop into the air, T said, “He was only about 3 years old, I think you could have taken him.” 

Hey!     His shadow was HUGE!

Until my vision improves, I guess I’ll have to live with the occasional flailing of arms and awkward martial arts impression.  Luckily I can’t see how goofy it looks.

How ‘bout it, Grasshopper? 

-Vision Runner

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