JOINING TEAM USA: 2015 WORLD MARATHON CHAMPIONSHIPS

It had been an exceptionally tough 2014. In a span of 3 months I had lost a job and made the decision to give up driving due to deteriorating eyesight. As a result of these catalysts, I had found myself in a down spell. It felt like I was glued to my bed, unable to stop staring at the ceiling and walls. Unable to lift myself, and lacking motivation to do the one thing in life that had always brought me peace, healing and joy - RUN.  I sought professional help, and soon felt much better. I chose not to take any medications, as initially suggested by the counselor, rather I proclaimed "I will overcome it through Running".... and I did. 

I ran a lot. In October, I ran a sub-3 marathon in Colorado. In November, I ran a 100 miler. In December, I ran a Personal Best 2:51:16 marathon and won the U.S. Marathon Championships for the Visually Impaired. A few days later I ran a self supported 100 mile training run at a local park.  A couple weeks later it was January 1st and I celebrated with a 45 mile Resolution run (I would turn 45 in 2015 so a 45 mile run sounded good).  I was fit and feeling much better.  Eating was good and training was going well. I was ready to tackle The Kraken in January 2015, a 185-mile trans-island crossing of Puerto Rico. It was the toughest thing I had done to date. It took me 51 hours to cross the island on foot, a documentary is being made of the experience, and I felt like I had accomplished the impossible.... like I had done something that I never dreamed I could or would do. 

AND THEN IT HAPPENED!!!  I was in an airport in New York making a connection on the way home from Puerto Rico. I got a call on my cell phone from a "719" area code, the area code for Colorado Springs.  I wondered who it could be. I had an Aunt who lived in Colorado Springs, but she shows up on my phone by name. The only other people it could be were the U.S. Olympic Committee that is headquartered in Colorado Springs.

I had been in communication with Cathy Sellers, Director of Paralympic High Performing Athletes - Track & Field.  Cathy had asked me to submit paperwork and go through the process to be considered for the U.S. Paralympic Team.  The process entailed going to an Ophthalmologist and having my eye condition and legally blind status confirmed.  Eye doctor appointments are always very unpleasant and uncomfortable experiences for me.  This appointment was to be no exception.  The office staff at the Ophthalmology office was offended that I was unable to read paperwork, and needed their help to fill out the new patient information questionnaire. The Ophthalmologist was insensitive with poor bedside manner and lacked time to address and respond to my questions.  I was feeling very down after the appointment as they confirmed what I already knew, my eyesight was deteriorating and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

I sent the requested forms and results of the eye exam to Cathy Sellers at the USOC and went about my business.  But when that phone rang, I was hopeful and scared all at the same time. As Cathy introduced herself, I made small talk and gave her an easy way out to let me down, and tell me that I had not made the Team. The words Cathy uttered next perplexed and paralyzed me:

Jason, we need to know your airport preferences for flights, and sizes for competition apparel. 

I was silent and tried to process what Cathy had told me. I did not want to be presumptuous, and I asked if that meant I was going to run for The Team in London. Cathy said, "Yes Jason. We want you to be on Team USA."  

My breath was gone, my legs were shaking, I was smiling and beyond proud. We ended the conversation, she congratulated me and I then thanked her.  She told me I had earned it.  That was the end of January. I would have 3 short months to train for the IPC (Int'l Paralympic Committee) World Marathon Championships in London at the end of April.  I would have to transform my running body and style from being an endurance specialist, to a fast runner with stamina to finish a marathon and set a Personal Best.  

I created a training plan and bounced it off of several runners I respected, and Coach Cathy (Sellers). It looked like the plan was solid. I had speed, tempo, recovery and long sessions incorporated into the plan.  All I needed to do was execute the plan. 

I did not know who my competition would be. The IPC only had results for a few athletes listed in my visual classification, T13.  The IPC has 3 visual classifications for legal blindness,T13, T12 and T11. T13 means your acuity is between 20/200 and 20/600, or your visual field is 20 degrees or less. T12 means your acuity is 20/600 or less, or your visual field is 5 degrees or less. T11 means you have no light perception at all. 

With the listed times on the IPC website, I had the second fastest marathon time in the world for my classification. I wanted to destroy my PB and would not be content with any effort less than my very best. 

I trained with focus and consistency. I was hitting every workout for time and speed. After the first couple weeks, I increased my weekly mileage by 20, just to keep me running a lot. The USOC had also asked me not to run any ultras between January and April; I agreed with the more than reasonable request.  I soon found myself training at altitude as much as possible. I had family members and my girlfriend driving me to and from the mountains so I could sleep and train at 8,500'+ of elevation. About a month before the race I felt lethargic, and my legs were fatiguing from all the miles and speed work. I took a weekend easy and felt like I came back even stronger. 

Soon it was time to head to London for the race. I found myself saying bye to my kids and girlfriend, and driving to the airport with some family members (Cindy Epstein, Rocket Romero and Charlotte Goodrow) who were able to rearrange their schedules so they could make the trip. Our flight took us through Chicago, where I finally met Cathy Sellers face-to-face, and our medical support, Tanya.  We arrived in London and the atmosphere was electric!  

L to R:  Me, Rocket, Charlotte and Mom (Cindy)

With Cathy and Tanya

I was being treated like I was "kinda a big deal", and I definitely was not used to it.  I suppose it was standard Elite Athlete treatment; however, for a mid-pack ultra-runner who is used to being self-supported for almost all of his needs, it was very foreign. We had an escort pick us up at the airport and take us to the hotel. I saw Paddington Station, Buckingham Palace, Parliament, Big Ben and the Eye of London within an hour. I was overwhelmed. Soon, we arrived at the host hotel - The Tower Hotel.  It was across the street from the Tower Bridge and the Tower of London. My room had a view of Tower Bridge. It was surreal. 

L to R: Egor, me, Aleksei

When we checked in, we went to the IPC Para Athletes Lounge, an area reserved for IPC World Championship participants and their Coaches. Somebody pointed out Tim Prendergast (Kiwi and Paralympic gold medalist) who I would be competing against. I went to him and struck up a conversation. He was a really nice fellow, and despite being competitors, we talked about the upcoming race and goals, and our "opposite eye conditions (Tim has peripheral vision with no central vision; and I have central vision with no peripheral vision).  Tim does motivational speaking for Sky Sports and uses his visual impairment and athletics to inspire youth and make a living.  It seemed to be almost "against the rules" to chat with competition before the race. Later that afternoon, I found the Russians, Egor Merkulov and Aleksei Ahkymtov. These guys were fast, really fast. We had a tough time communicating as I knew no Russian, and they knew minimal English. We did get together for a picture and it felt good to see the people I would be competing against. All the athletes were the models of fitness - the typical fit & skinny runner build.  I was looking for Youssef Benibrahim from Morocco, and the entrant with the fastest PB.  Youssef and I had become FaceBook friends and he had said he had been hospitalized for 10 days. It sounded like he might not make the race. 

With Tatyana "The Beast" McFadden

I made an observation of the athletes over those first two pre-race days. Every Para-athlete there was tremendously independent. There were athletes in wheelchairs, missing limbs and visually impaired. I never saw a wheelchair athlete getting pushed by another person. They always pushed him/herself. I had difficulty distinguishing people with missing limbs from Coaches, as my eyesight simply was not picking up the distinctions. Finally, I did not see one white cane or guide dog the entire time while I was in London.  I met people who had no light perception, and they were guided by putting a hand on another person's shoulder. The light was dim at the hotel, and I know that was very difficult for the VI athletes who had some eyesight. 

At the pre-race dinner, I wore my headlamp as I finally felt like I was with people who would understand. I use a headlamp in dark settings to provide light so I can see things. When eating, it helps me see the food selection and where the food is at on my plate.  I was again different; none of my peers had headlamps, or any additional lighting devices. I sat with the Spanish Team for dinner, but did not turn on the light as I did not want to feel too out of place (I was the only person with a headlamp so I probably should have felt awkward to begin with).  I was truly amazed at how independent this group was/is. Perhaps it is denial of the challenge, or total acceptance that enables this group to compete at such high levels. Perhaps it is just plain Tenacity and Will that makes this group tick. I know I am part of the group, and perhaps some more personal reflection is warranted.  More to come on that part... 

 

Selfie @ Classification

The next experience I had was "Classification by the IPC". The IPC needs to verify eye condition and eyesight for Visually Impaired athletes to ensure they are competing with the correct cohort - T11, 12 or 13. Interestingly, the less sighted athletes (T11-12) are faster than the more sighted athletes (t13). I had been warned by other VI athletes about the IPC Classification process. People had warned me generally about being Classified, but had not offered up anything specific to watch out for. The eye doctors were a couple guys from Holland and Germany. They looked in my eyes, had me read an eye chart and checked my visual field. We talked and laughed. At the end of the exam, I told them that it was the best eye exam I had ever had.  I explained that I hated going to eye doctors because it was always the same old thing, "Your eyes are getting worse. There is nothing I can do for you. Come back and see me in a year. Please be sure your account is paid before you leave."  I learned that this aversion to eye doctors is not uncommon for people with degenerative conditions.  Anyhow, the Classification experience was nothing to be feared or avoided, and if you are a VI athlete, do not let Classification prevent you from competing (enough said on that one).  

THE RACE

It was the night before the race and I felt ready to fly. I had trained for speed. I had put in the miles. I had trained at altitude to get a blood cell advantage. I had a race plan to negative split the race, with realistic goals. I felt like I had a real chance to get Silver or Bronze, and maybe a Gold if a leader blew up in the late-stages of the race.  

With Tim Prendergast

I did my normal pre-race ritual of music, food and coffee. Soon I was in the lobby for athlete pickup and the energy was electric. Coach Cathy found me and I saw the other Team USA members (all wheelchair athletes). I made my way back to the area where the VI athletes were congregating. I saw Prendergast and went to wish him luck. We took a picture and I told him I was going to hang on to his heels as long as possible. He had a plan to run 2:44:59. I had a plan to run 2:44:00 or better, so at some point I was expecting to pass him. 

With Youssef Behibrahim

We boarded the bus for the start, and Coach Cathy saw Youssef. He was in a heavy coat and feigned coughing, insisting that he was still sick. I told him I hoped he felt better and wished him good luck. He was hamming it up, and I began to question whether Youssef was putting on an act. It really didn't matter, as everybody was going to run as hard as they could. After a 45-minute bus ride, we arrived at the Elite Athlete tents. We unloaded and as we entered the tent I saw a flurry of action. Everybody ran to put dibs on chairs and yoga mats for stretching. I found a chair and mat and laid my things on it. I saw my competition in the tent. Youssef was on one side of me with his Moroccan teammates. Aleksei and Egor were on the other side of me with a person from the Russian team. Prendergast was talking with the female Kiwi athlete. I just had to find the Brazilian, Aniceto. I asked a person with a Brasil shirt, and he called Aniceto over. I introduced myself and told him "Boa Sorte", Good Luck in Portuguese.  I had asked friends to teach me how to wish all my competitors Good Luck. Aniceto smiled BIG when he understood what I was telling him, as did his teammates. I made a pre-race port-o-let visit. When I came back, my yoga mat had disappeared without a trace.  My things were undisturbed, and my neighbors seemed to be oblivious to the location of the mat. I figured that person needed it more than I did. The other thing I realized was that some of these people were taking this competition to an extreme, perhaps an unhealthy level. 

View from inside the bus to the start line

IPC Athlete buses to the Start line

I made several more trips to the port-o-let, mainly due to nerves, I believe. On the 3rd, 4th and 5th bathroom visit, nothing was happening despite a biological urge. 

Pre-race inside the IPC Mobile Athlete tent

 The tent manager told athletes we had 10 minutes until the start so we needed to prepare to move out of our protected tent environment and out into the drizzling cold weather. It was about 45 degrees Fahrenheit, with a 10 mph wind. The conditions were cold, but I knew once I hit my pace my core temperature and blood flow would more than keep me warm.  Competitors were stretching, doing light jogs, talking and moving with nervous energy. 

It was time to move to the Start line. I suddenly got a huge rush of adrenaline. IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. I was going to run for Team USA. I thought about the tough year I had and the down spell I had to fight back from as I walked to the Start line. I looked at my chest which had "USA" emblazoned on it, and my race bib which read "ROMERO." I knew at that moment that I was back, and again I knew that "I CAN DO ANYTHING!" 

I moved to the Start line, the announcer saw me and said the USA was represented in the race. A part of the 750,000-person crowd began a 10 second countdown, which was deafening. 

The gun fired, and I ran, and ran, and ran...…..and I was at Peace again.

Jason Romero is a highly sought after inspirational speaker and the 1st and only blind person to run across America.  Jason is a member of the US Paralympic Team, holds 11 world records in ultra-running, a former attorney and business executive, and a single father of 3 children.  More information can be found on Jason at www.relentlessromero.com.