Legally blind, Mark Griffin has overcome his disability to compete in several Ironman events and marathons. (Rich Hein/Sun-Times)
Mark Griffin can hardly see. "What I can see at 20 feet away, someone with perfect vision can see from 200 feet," Griffin says. "I get around OK. I see well enough to read bus signs, things like that.
The Baltimore transplant refuses to let being born legally blind stop him from having a full life -- his parents wouldn't have it.
"Growing up, they told me some things might take longer or be harder to do, but not being able to see is no excuse to give up," Griffin said.
So, he won't quit -- ever.
In 2005, Griffin moved to Chicago. He finished law school and got a job as a Cook County assistant state's attorney in the child protection division, doing what he called "the Lord's work" of terminating parental rights when kids aren't safe.
When the stress of the job gets to him, Griffin goes running -- Forrest Gump style -- hours at a time, mostly late at night. At first, jogging was a way to melt away his pudgy middle.
"I could only run for a minute without having to stop and walk," he said. "But I developed endurance over time."
In 2008, he ran the Shamrock Shuffle and later his first marathon at Disney World.
Soon, a marathon wasn't enough of a challenge, especially after he saw a story of a legally blind Ironman on TV.
Inspired, Griffin took his parents' advice to the extreme -- competing in the world's toughest race: The Ironman.
How does a blind guy navigate the open water on the 2.4-mile swim, speed around curves on a bicycle over 112 miles and then run a marathon in a single day?
Well, with a little help. Griffin hooked up with the C Different Foundation, a group committed to helping blind athletes compete.
"I can see well enough to run on my own, but I'd get lost on the swim," he said. "And on the bike, you're going 50 miles per hour downhill. There's no way I could be on a bike by myself going that fast."
The group lent Griffin a tandem bicycle and assigned a volunteer guide for his first grueling race -- the Ford Ironman Louisville.
On the swim and run, the guide leads the way -- tethered to Griffin by a bungee cord -- and they ride together on a tandem bicycle.
"It took a little getting used to being tied to each other, but it was such a blessing," Griffin said. "Around the 90-mile mark, I was really in pain, but the guy in front of me was going through the same thing and he helped me get through it. ... You start at 7 a.m, and as long as you get done by midnight, you can call yourself an Ironman."
Griffin earned his Ironman street cred the first time out -- finishing in 15 hours and 33 minutes. And he has run several Ironmans and marathons since.
"The biggest thing for me always has been finding a way to get something done if I can do it," he said. "I like the motivation of having a race to train for and the camaraderie I've found in the triathlon subculture. What's different than other sports is everyone is always helping each other because we know what the other person is going through."
Complete physical agony, that is. Followed by the joy of crossing the finish line, of course. And, ultimately, training for a new race.
For Griffin, the Bank of America Chicago Marathon Oct. 10 is next. He's not sure if he's prepared for the race, but he's running anyway.
A few buddies are trying to tackle their first marathon, and he wants to be alongside them, stride for stride, as motivation for them to make it.
"All I know is that no matter what your disability, there's something about seeing other people succeed that's motivation and encouragement," Griffin said. "If I can do it, anyone can do it. Anything is possible."
Griffin can see that clearly.
At his best, Mark Konkol is a White Sox fan. He lives on the South Side. He
enjoys cold beer. At one time or another over the last 10 years, he's covered Chicago and Cook County government, city schools, transportation and the ins-and-outs of neighborhood life. E-mail him at 