Blind Dave's 777 challenge

7 marathons on 7 continents in 7 days

"Running for me is a sport that I thoroughly enjoy: there are challenges to it; it keeps me fit; It's lovely when people pat me on the back and say 'Well done Dave, you've inspired a few people today with your running' and I hope I have!" Dave Heeley.

Dave Heeley became the first blind man to run 7 marathons on 7 continents in 7 days. He started on 7th April 2008 on the Falkland Islands and then ran marathons in Rio de Janeiro, Los Angeles, Sydney, Dubai, Tunis and London on the next consecutive 6 days. Below is his account of this accomplishment. We think it will inspire more than just 'a few people'!

7th April 2008, Falkland Islands (Antarctica) Standing on the start line of this fantastic adventure, being blind and attempting to run, 7 marathons, in 7 days, on 7 continents, seemed so unreal. Here we were on the Falklands, with 10 minutes to go before the start, I remember thinking it was cold, but not as cold as I imagined it would be. The temperature as we stood there was 0 degrees C, but one thankful thing the winds and torrential rain that had been forecast hadn’t appeared yet, although we flew into the Falklands in a thunderstorm and the weather had been awful I’m told the past two days. My thoughts at this moment were on my wife, Debb, back home at this precise moment, at a launch party she had arranged and it was my intention, moments before the start to ring in and talk to her over the phone, then a room full of friends and family would count down to the start. But would you believe it, all the communications for mobiles and the internet had failed on the Falklands at this precise moment, but I was assured they would try to get through.

At this point it was explained exactly to me what was happening and what was going to happen, we would go on the sound of a ten gun salute, also at that point a lone Tornado jet would fly over the start, performing a spectacular maneuver from flying horizontal to vertical with after burners on full, a maneuver not done that often so being blind they said they wanted me to get the flavor of the start. A minute past midnight, GMT (8.01 Falklands local time) and the countdown began, I could hear and sense the crowds, and the support team along with the TV crew wished us well, the guns went bang! The Tornado flew over! We were off and the adventure of my life began, but still no Debb on the phone. We ran, joined by the winner of this year’s Falklands marathon along with the runner up, the on lookers cheered and as I gave out my first Oggy, Oggy, Oggy, a van screeched to a halt and a mobile phone was thrust in my hand, I got to speak with Debb and the whole room could hear me and the tears flowed, I knew somehow now in my heart, I could do this!

Running out of MPA (Mount Pleasant Airport) heading towards the Mare harbor and a long swoop round, I felt cold but good, fresh and ready, full of adrenalin, with a smile from ear to ear. Phil Glasgow our trusty physio, was right behind on his bike, carrying our Lucazade supplements and always ready with a shout of encouragement. Running around the harbor was incredible, we passed a ship, harbored in the bay, HMS Clyde, there was no mistaking it’s presence, it’s Claxton salute sounded what seemed like an eternity, believe me the hairs on my neck stood up. Around that bay we were followed by a fire tender, head lights full on so Mac my guide could see where we were going and we were also accompanied by forces personnel, who at every cattle grill, covered them with boards for us to run over, also at strategic points lads and lasses from the forces shouted words of encouragement, a credit to them, they were all brilliant.

Running back into MPA we were allowed to run down the runway, even though I’m told the Tornado’s were on standby, could have been interesting! We ran the last 13 miles around the base, encircling the runway twice, at points soldiers joined us for a time, I’m also told that the control tower was lit up like a Christmas tree, with all the runway lights blazing, it was some sort of spectacle, then to top it all we were joined by some 70 soldiers, donned in full battle dress, carrying Burgan’s and weapons, who ran in unison with us for about 2 miles, their breathing as labored as ours.

At around 25 miles any chatter stopped, Phil began to read us our adopted poem, The Quitter by Robert Service, these words did something I can’t really explain, but it sparked the determination within. Running through that first finish line, in 4 hours and 14 minutes, with cheering crowds was a wonderful feeling, after 26.2 miles as you would expect, the legs were aching, but spirits were high, a quick massage was the order of the day, an ice bath to help with muscle recovery, hot shower, food and water, not too much time at this moment to think of aches and pains, our plane was waiting and we had to move quickly. We boarded the jet and took off with minutes to spare, the captain informed us we had only minutes before we would have had to have submitted a new flight plan at this point that would have been critical as time wasn’t on our side, so he was much relieved when the wheels left the runway! Then the rain came, we left as we had arrived, in a thunderstorm.

7th April 2008, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, (South America) Our jet, a Lear 55, landed in Santos Demonte, Brazil at 8.45 am local time. Let me assure you it sounds very glamorous but it wasn’t, Oh yes the interior was brass, leather upholstery, mahogany paneling! Sounds impressive. But 6 hours of flying in a cramped jet, sitting in a chair that would hardly recline, boxes of food, kit and supplies strewn all over the floor of the jet, 7 bodies, trying to stretch without cramping, having a massage over those boxes, with no sleep wasn’t the ideal way to travel between marathons, with a thunder storm raging, the plane bouncing all over the place and me frightened of flying, no I can assure you it was not the ideal situation, but in truth we had no option.

From the airport we sped to the start of the second marathon, the start line outside the world famous Copacabana Palace Hotel, our deadline to start was 9.30, after this marathon we had to rely on scheduled airlines and time was now very important, it was touch and go but we made it by the skin of our teeth. Rio was the loneliest place on this earth at this present moment. Circumstances, Argentinean politics, had forced us to move the second marathon from Chile to Brazil at the very last minute and so all that was there to support was our small team, the TV crew, 26.2 miles of running and Mother Nature!

Eight hours prior we had finished the Falklands marathon, with 6 hours of flying, immigration, no sleep and legs that were beginning to moan and groan big style. Marathon number two began, from the start, although we knew this one would be hard, from the offset I was looking forward to the finish, this run would be conquered on mental ability, 27 degrees C, 90% humidity and it was raining, not ideal conditions! We ran down the Copacabana promenade, through Ipanema and onto Lake Lagoa. After three laps of Lake Lagoa, with skaters and cyclists cutting in front of us, we began the reverse journey and the finish.

Reaching Ipanema turning left along coast meant the finish, sadly we had to turn right, and away from our finish line to enable us to put enough miles on to complete 26.2 miles, what this did to body and mind at this point was unbelievable. The body seemed to drain of all strength; this was where the mind and the belief in yourself took over. Looking back now the calves, thighs, ankles, and feet were all feeling the pressure, they were screaming for the finish and relief, but the end was a long way away. I dug deep within myself and ground every step out, at this point I was totally focused, simply willing myself on, bringing everything from my armory to help. Around my neck was a photo of my family and I feel no shame or embarrassment in saying I touched this photo and drew strength from it , telling myself they would want Dad to do this , whether it helped or not, I believe it got me through! It was around this point, Mac told me afterwards, that he seriously thought for a second of throwing the towel in, but took one look at the determination on my face, seeing I was feeling the same and the thought left him as it had come! The Copacabana promenade, that world famous, glamorous coastal strip in Rio, was now a hurting ground, even when Phil read our poem the finish line couldn’t come quick enough, but it did come, in 4 hours and 45 minutes and 26.2 grueling miles! Believe me it hurt, every part of me new pain, totally exhausted, crying with relief, which the world saw on camera, but number two had now been completed.

Things moved so quickly now, that dreaded ice bath was in fact a comfort, the yelps but the relief to the legs, hot shower, food and drink, said our goodbye’s to the hotel and rushed to the airport and the Lear 55, which was taking us to San Paulo and scheduled flights. The rain was coming down now torrential, the co pilot told us we had one shot at landing , if we didn’t make it the first time they were shutting the runway, it was far too dangerous, at this point being blind was a blessing! All I heard was a lot of low rumbling, moaning and I’m sure I heard someone praying, I was told afterwards it was a very close call, wings, water and a very big hill in front! I did notice the sigh of relief when the wheels hit the floor.

8th April 2008, Los Angeles (North America) Landed in Los Angeles around 7.30 am, our direct flight from San Paulo, suddenly incorporated a change in Lima, Peru, also business class is a little to be desired South America way! The legs, body and mind are certainly getting tested, but once through the airport we were taken to the world famous Rose Bowl and onto marathon number three!

The reception committee was fantastic, the Braille Institute, the charity being supported had arranged a carnival it seemed! A marquee, stage, band and cheer leaders, with over two hundred runners and supporters, including the chief fire officer and the mayor of Pasadena, who set this marathon off. The crowds , claps, and wolf whistles was exactly what the body and certainly the mind required, it seemed to be the instant fix for aching muscles and we started with plenty of enthusiasm and smiles. It seemed a glorious day bobbing around 16 degree C; with blue sky I’m told.

There was between 20 and 30 runners who joined us periodically, some doing a few miles and some a couple of laps of the Rose Bowl and also a running pal came over from England , purposely to run LA with us, Keith would then fly back to England and meet up with us again in London, if we made it! But what was absolutely fantastic for around 6 miles we were joined by; now get this, the Elvis Presley Athletics Club, running to the beat of Elvis, superb! Amongst other people running was a retired FBI investigator, we also needed chatter to keep minds focused and believe me some of the stories he told me, made your hair curl, but it helped to eat the miles away. Once again a fire tender came into the equation, the chief fire officer followed us most of the way on his bike, with a fire tender also bringing up the rear, but in fairness to the fire chief he did in fact run the last three miles with us to the finish.

There was also a bell that I kept hearing ring! As we were running around the Rose Bowl I thought the sound of the bell indicated a lap, they certainly seemed to be coming quickly, but I was told that as we were running one way, a lady with this bell was walking the opposite way and ringing it every time we passed her, but as we approached 25 miles , our poem was read by Phil, riding his bike and carrying the all important Lucazade supplements, once again spirits were lifted, we ran through the finish in 4 hours and 35 minutes, the band struck up and the cheers rang out, including the bell! Yes the legs were aching, but I do believe that having such a crowd and fantastic support on the day helped the mind forget the pain, it was just what the doctor ordered. There was a lot of chatter, smiles, once again yelps as we climbed into the ice baths, food, drink and for me the food of the day cheese and onion rolls and a prize, chocolate Dunkin doughnuts! Sadly, as we had come in with a hello, we left with a quick goodbye and it was off to the airport, Sydney awaits.

10th April 2008, Sydney (Australasia) Landing in Sydney and climbing out of seat 1A, Qantas first class is certainly the way to travel, not much sleep but plenty of rest. It was at this point the dateline malarkey confused me totally, how do you lose a day in your life! But I did it appears. Flying out of LA, on a Tuesday evening at 11 o’clock, then three hours later being told its 2 am, but, Thursday morning is beyond me! Landing at 6 am, Thursday morning, actually getting to speak with Debb back home and she then telling me it’s 9.30 pm Wednesday night, the confusion certainly took my mind off any aches and pains, hence I was reminded why we did two marathons on the first day!

From the airport we were taken to Centennial Park and marathon number 4. It was lovely to feel the warmth, also what was so surprising , with this whirl wind tour I suppose at times I forgot where in the world I was, back home walking into a park you would hear , blackbirds , sparrows, but hear I heard some wonderful noises , didn’t expect cockateels and parakeets, it was a beautiful sound.

Once again the meet and greet was fantastic, the Aussies doing us proud, carnival time again, Marquee, stage, Guide Dogs Sydney had worked hard, we had their chief executive, 300 supporters, the Deputy British Council General, who was to set us off, for some reason an abundance of TV and radio presenters, who in fact were going to join us on all or some of the run. After a quick rub down from physio Phil, stretching those already aching muscles, it was time to go.

We set off with around 50 runners supporting us, many doing just a few laps or miles, two actually running the whole marathon with us, once again the chatter was just what the doctor ordered, one American chap, who was on a fortnights retirement holiday with his wife, had heard about the challenge whilst in Sydney and being a bit of a runner his self, told me he had to come along and take part, how fantastic was that. By now the temperature was around 25 degrees C, a little warm to say the least, but the warmth helped to soothe those aching muscles, keeping the smile or grimace on the face, it was certainly hard work, but Phil kept the liquid flowing in the body, once again following us on his trusty bike. The support around the park was fantastic, again at 25 miles our poem was read, giving us that last push, but as we approached the finish line, with around 50 runners accompanying us they burst into song, I had to hum as I couldn’t really speak, the emotion was simply too much, adrenalin flowing, tired body and mind and being serenaded across the finish line by 50 Aussies, singing, “Waltzing Matilda”, was simply unbelievable, in a time of 4 hours 40 minutes a fitting end.

Psychologically, the Sydney marathon was quite a milestone, especially for the mind, instead of counting 1, 2, 3 we would be counting down 3, 2, 1, London and the finish. The ice baths were now a welcome sight, it was worth the screaming for the relief on the legs, food, and a prize this time, simply a cup of coffee, then once again from hello to goodbye and a flight to Asia.

 

 

11th April 2008, Dubai (Asia) Landing Dubai 6 am, once again climbing out of seat 1A, Emirates is definitely the way to fly, again not much sleep but total luxury. Fast tracked through the airport, and then taken to the heart of Dubai and a place called Safa Park. The place was alive with people, I'm told there were around 500 people supporting, and it was just incredible. The atmosphere was electric and once again it's amazing how the chatter , interviews, getting prepared to start, all this attention takes away the pain from those aching muscles, but in fairness at this point the legs and both body and mind were feeling great, that would change I'm sure! We began the fifth marathon at around 8 am, it was 25 degrees C, it was going to be 12 and a half laps of the park and we would be joined periodically by members of three ex patriot running clubs, we began and yes it was hot.

By lap three the heat was intense, one half of the park was in relative shade, but the other half was in full sun and it literally melted you as you ran in it, we nick named this part "Death Valley". At around the 16 mile mark, we pulled up for a moment, Mac's feet were giving him trouble, blisters. So our trusty physio Phil taped them up and we limped on our way, the heat now becoming unbearable, but we ran on. I was quite surprised at this point how my legs and feet were bearing up, was this, the calm before the storm! We ran on and with three laps to go someone shouted out "Three laps left lads", at this point the mind registered this and what a nice feeling to know after this lap, just two left, then someone reminded us as we passed the official lap counter, there was in fact 4 left, to hear this at this point was soul and sole (!) destroying, the heat was unbelievable and I'd rather have heard the number 3 than 4 but touching the photo around my neck, gave me the heart to carry on.

The last lap was announced, Phil read out our poem and at this point we were joined by no less than 150 runners, total silence as the poem was read out, only the slap of trainers otherwise could be heard, a hundred meters was announced to the finish line, we actually sped up and at that line, in 4 hours and 55 minutes, the temperature now was recorded at 39 degrees C, not only did the voices of 150 runners erupt, but Safa park itself burst into voice, I think I matched the 500 voices with 500,000 tears, it was once again unbelievable, words failed me then and they still do now! This run was hot, hard and painful, but another one under our belt the ice bath was certainly welcomed, then sadly after food, it was another goodbye and a plane to Africa.

 

 

12th April 2008, Tunisia (Africa) Tunisia and Africa was a relative short hop in comparison to the other flights, good job as the plane was very stuffy and the legs were rather cramped. We arrived very late Friday evening, 3 am Saturday morning we were having breakfast, 5 am we were climbing into an old ambulance , which would take us to the start line, believe me this ambulance, I'm told was pre war! Which one I don't know, the First World War, the second or the Boar war! The driver, being local as you can imagine didn't know much English, but I know he knew one of two things, either, foot to the floor on the accelerator! Or hard on the brake! Was I glad to climb out of that thing!

At 7 am we were standing on the start for the penultimate marathon, in a little village called Bani Khallad and would you believe it, at 7 in the morning Africa was a little chilly! Our route was to take us down this main road, turning at around 6k at a traffic island, picking up our police escort and then running all the way back into Tunis, to a little blind school we were supporting. At 7 in the morning this main road didn't even hold a donkey, the only wheels were the police vehicles and the support bikes, but at 8 am, there was more 40 tonners than you could shake a stick at, even in these remote places the police got concerned and they insisted we change the route, so at the next available left we turned.

We were now heading into the country and believe me we knew straight away, we ran right through a herd of sheep, police cars, runners, TV cameras, support bikes, I'm told the shepherd stood there , wide eyed and scratching his head, it must have been a sight to see! It was around this point, that that calm before the storm came, Phil noticed I was limping slightly and said at the next toilet stop he would check it out. Giving the right leg the quick once over, he suggested it was slight tendinitis between the Achilles and the calf, he explained there would be no long term damage and I had two options, stop, or carry on, he said the pain would reach a limit and wouldn't get any worse, comforting I thought, so I carried on ! The only problem with the pain, every time we stopped for a toilet break the pain subsided, and then as running resumed it came back with a vengeance, the answer no more toilet breaks now till the finish and of course, grit your teeth.

As this new route had to be recalculated, we found a village a few miles down the road, a reasonable track encircling it, with strawberry fields and a lemon grove in its midst, plus a few farmers, also scratching their heads, we ran around this for 7 laps, and then headed off and towards the sea. Leaving the village, proved interesting, we hit a hill, the road went up from around the 21 mile mark up to around 24 miles and I'm sure even mountain goats would have avoided it! But we kept on going. At one point Phil came along side on his bike , I still shake my head now, he said that if we didn't find a summit before 24 miles , he suggested we turned then and had at least the last two miles down, his legs were beginning to hurt! His legs were hurting, mine weren't too good either! Salvation came at around 24 miles and the road leveled, veered left and it was a gentle incline, down, to the coast.

This last two miles was fantastic, all pain forgotten , well until the finish, we had the poem read, then excitement took over, we began to pick up the pace, I could smell the finish. We over took the police car, we left the bikes and trailing cars, where the energy came from, who knows, but it did, then Mac told me we weren't going to make it! What the hell was he on about I thought, not going to make it, I could smell the finish, then he explained that in front was another busy main road and we wouldn't complete 26.2 miles by the junction. At this point the police must also have realized, the next thing I heard were sirens, and then I was told afterwards it was like crazy cops. The police car literally skidded into the main road, four police men getting out and stopping the traffic, cars, confusion, again onlookers standing wide eyed, open mouthed, scratching their heads, wondering what the hell! Then we came to the junction, turned left, ran around 80 feet, then stopped! We were jumping up and down like two stupid little school kids, we had just completed the penultimate marathon, the 6th leg in Africa, finishing in 4 hours and 44 minutes, the temperature now about 25 degrees C, sweating, hurting, but at this moment in time the pain was forgotten, at least for now anyway. Bring on the ice bath, food and then the very last flight and London.

 

 

13th April 2008, London (Europe) On this Sunday morning, 13th April, green start, pinching myself, was this really my 7th marathon of the week, on 7 continents? The London marathon, the atmosphere was absolutely electric, thousands of people, runners and most of them it appears, I can only presume from the media, knew what was going on, the response and support was fantastic. A friend, Garry, who was in fact joining us on this last leg, read out three letters of luck from my three daughters, my emotions were all over the place and it didn't take a lot to make my eyes sweat? And it was so fantastic to hear their words. Phil was now off his bike and like a lot of others from the support team, was joining us on this last leg. My right calf had been strapped; it was still hurting and would have to put up with another 26.2 miles before any proper rest.

We were off, well the weather was typically British, started with rain, hail, more rain, in comparison to where else we had been running, absolutely freezing, a little sun, more rain, in fact freezing rain but we actually finished in the sunshine. The London marathon day was as per normal, spectator support fantastic, fellow runners brilliant and the camaraderie amongst runners something to behold, we were on target, wanting this to be our quickest leg, our team were there, the pain was there, adrenalin and focus was definitely there, I think along with the excitement we were counting every step to the finish.

12 miles came and disaster! Mac my guide runner became totally dehydrated, liquid was going in and almost instantly blood was coming out, every drink a stop for the loo, this also bringing on the pain in my right calf, between us there was a lot of gritting the teeth. The team around us gave us total support, for once, even with the leg hurting so bad it appeared I was the guide in front, must have been quite funny for any one realizing, we plodded on.

Like every other London marathon , getting to the embankment and hearing your name , simply pulls you along, I can only imagine this this year as I can't honestly remember, too focused. But I do remember the Mal, listening to Phil recite our poem for the last time, edging Mac on, telling him the finish is close, hearing the family screech from the grand stand , people were literally willing us across the line. The finish line was absolutely incredible, fantastic, put whatever word you want to it, we had finished, the slowest marathon of the week 5 hours and 20 minutes, but who cared at this moment in time, we had just run that week from the Falklands,(Antarctica), Rio, Brazil (South America), Los Angeles (North America), Sydney (Australasia) Dubai (Asia), Tunisia (Africa) and now finally London ,(Europe and I cried, with pain, pleasure, sadness as it was all over, joy we had done it, all pain at this instance forgotten, facing the cameras I will never forget the first words I said, " We did it, we bloody well did it!".

Looking back on the whole adventure now, I sit with a sigh of relief, from that first letter in June 2003, to actually completing the challenge, the 777 as I title it, it was some experience. The training was intense, 6 months of the most grueling training I've ever known, supported by the Sports Institute Northern Ireland, Dr. Phil Glasgow and his team were outstanding, as they stated, to put a training schedule together to run one marathon, fast or slow, was one thing, but to put together a schedule for 7 marathons, in 7 days and on 7 continents took some thinking about. The training certainly was intense, most days, twice a day, gym work, track work, strength work, pool work, running short distance and also plenty of endurance work, it was that kind of commitment that was going to make it work, and also the sports institute sorted out, the nutrition, Psychology, in fact the whole training caboodle. The running, training , fitness, and certainly the logistics were very important, but also I reflect back on the PR, on each start and finish I had to make sure the right words were said, in fairness both body and mind was on standby throughout the whole challenge, the feet eating up the miles, the mind searching for the right words. After 7 days, 168 hours, of which only 20 hours I slept, approximately 35 I ran and the rest was travelling. Running 183.4 miles, travelled over 35,000 miles in the air, passed through some 34 different time zones, I burned around 8000 calories a day, 3000 when resting, ran in temperature ranging from 0 to 39 Degrees C, this was just a part of the information analyzed over that week, but to top it all, being very proud to announce, I achieved my goal, becoming the first blind person in this world to run 7 marathons, in 7 days, on 7 continents.