Please Support the Run to Home Base to Benefit Our Brave Veterans and Their Families

One of the great things about distance running is that it provides a lot of opportunities to run in support of some really great causes. In my first year as a runner, I ran more than a dozen 5Ks that supported a broad range of causes, including AIDS awareness and prevention, breast cancer research and literacy promotion.

In 2011, I am not only expanding the geographical locations where I'll run, I'm also increasing the distances. One of the races I am most excited about is the Run to Home Base 9K sponsored by New Balance.

The Run to Home Base program is an initiative supported by philanthropy from the Red Sox Foundation and the Massachusetts General Hospital Home Base Program, serving New England by identifying, motivating, and clinically treating service members, veterans and their families who are affected by the invisible wounds of war. The Home Base Program serves the nation as a successful model for private-public collaborations; a source of new communication and education; and a leader in finding and implementing new treatments or post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and traumatic brain injury (TBI).

The Home Base Program works in cooperation with the Department of Veterans Affairs and the Department of Defense to address some of the unmet health and rehabilitation needs of veterans and the unmet health needs of their families.

In New England, an estimated 50,000 combat veterans who served in Iraq and Afghanistan are affected by TBI and/or combat stress. These invisible wounds of war are extremely complex, highly individualized and extraordinarily difficult for all those affected. Families of veterans suffering from combat stress and/or traumatic brain injury often need support and guidance as they seek ways to better understand and support their loved veteran.

Many veterans struggle with the stigma associated with these injuries and the so called “invisible wounds” caused by battlefield experiences. While anxiety and distress may not be as obvious as the physical wounds of war, the scars are just as painful and deep. Such injuries require attention and treatment by a team of providers who are familiar with and experienced in the complexities of combat stress and traumatic brain injury.

Through a range of activities and events, the Red Sox Foundation and Massachusetts General Hospital Home Base Program informs and educates the community about combat stress and/or traumatic brain injury, while seeking to help mitigate the stigma and encourage veterans and their families to get the support and care they deserve.

The Home Base Program also supports research of the complexities of combat stress disorders and/or traumatic brain injury with the goal of identifying better treatments. Since the number of professionals specifically trained to diagnose and treat these injuries is inadequate to handle the growing demand, the Home Base Program also offers opportunities for health care professionals from across New England and beyond to increase their understanding of how to help veterans. Bringing together related efforts in clinical care, family support, education and research under a synergistic and cohesive program will advance the care and treatment of our veterans.

(Thanks to the Run to Home Base Program for the information above.)


How can you help? Please follow this link to my fundraising page and sponsor me by making a contribution to the Run to Home Base Program: http://www.runtohomebase.org/runtohomebase/JoanMeyer. I have committed to raise at least $1,000 for the Run to Home Base Program. YOU can help me go the distance with your contribution. I am thankful for every donation made by my sponsors, and donations of any amount are needed.


Just as I did for the Komen Race for the Cure, I will proudly wear a sign on my back throughout the Run to Home Base featuring the names of every single one of my donors (regardless of donation amount), as well as the names of any veterans you wish to honor or memorialize with your donation.


I am particularly honored to be running this race in honor of Louis Zamperini, a former Olympic runner (1936), a survivor of Japanese POW camps during World War II and the subject of Laura Hillenbrand's fascinating bestseller, Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. Louie and his story are absolutely inspirational, and the book is compelling and practically impossible to put down.


Please consider supporting the Run to Home Base. I'm including a long-term link in the upper right area of my blog to provide easy access for anyone who wishes to make a contribution. Please share this information with your friends and families. For your support and sponsorship, please accept my sincere thanks.

Building Community...One Run at a Time

A trip eastward along the Massachusetts Turnpike almost always takes me to my favorite American city, Boston. But on this last day of 2010, it was leading me toward the historic mill city of Lowell, just to the northwest, to run my first 5k of 2011. Despite a wicked pissah Nor’easter the preceding weekend, not enough snow remained to give the Berkshires much of James Taylor’s dreamlike frosting.

Lowell sits along the Merrimack River and reminds me of a larger version of Saratoga Springs, NY, with quaint shops, appealing restaurants and art galleries. The main difference between the two cities is Lowell’s huge old mills contrasted against Saratoga’s historic and seasonal Thoroughbred race track. While Lowell has repurposed those mills and has not only outlived them but thrived in their wake, Saratoga is still significantly dependent on the success of the summer Thoroughbred season.

And so it was to this city on the Merrimack that I came for the Lowell 1^st Run, which is comprised of a 5k and a 10k race. Mother Nature decided to relent on the meteorological brutality she all-too-recently unleashed on New England and offered race day temperatures near 50 degrees.

Aside from the Gingah-friendly (read: reasonably flat) course and decent swag score, I also had a Marriott free night certificate that was only good through December 31^st. All of the cosmic tumblers seemed to fall into place to make my decision to enter this race that much easier.

After Christmas, I made a commitment to myself to “eat clean”: fresh foods, lots of fruits and vegetables and whole grains, and eschewing refined sugar, refined flour and processed foods. Before leaving Albany for Lowell, I packed a lunch bag with some fresh fruit, raw almonds and Gnu bars, but knowing how easily I can be tempted, I wanted to make sure there would be some dining options that wouldn’t wreak havoc with my efforts. Life Alive Organic Café came up in a search of restaurants in Lowell. I ventured briefly through the city center in search of Life Alive and was pleased to find it among the shops, galleries and other small businesses occupying the restored historic buildings along a brick-paved street. I ordered the “Adventurer,” subbing the non-Gingah’s-tummy-friendly tofu for some shiitake mushrooms. The veggies, quinoa and short-grain brown rice were deliciously accented with Life Alive’s zesty sesame ginger nama sauce (which I hastened to rechristen “Gingah Nummy Sauce”). If you’re ever in Lowell, Life Alive café is absolutely worth a stop.

My goal for the Lowell 1^st Run was an unusual one for my 19^th career 5k: to run the full distance. I hadn’t run outside since the Saratoga Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving Day, a race that involved sub-freezing temperatures and multiple hills (not my finest hour, by far). I had run a few sessions on the dreadmill, a very poor substitute for outdoor running. I hadn’t handled well the necessary organizational skills involved with my rehearsal schedule for “Mrs. Bob Cratchit’s Wild Christmas Binge,” and I ended up neglecting my training. A bad cold before Christmas and some nagging hip pain the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve didn’t help matters. Part of my purpose in looking for cold-weather races (not just practice runs) is to keep me running outdoors even when the weather is less than friendly. Cold, snowy winters are a fact of life in Upstate New York, so you either adapt or suffer. And throw on another layer. (Translation: Suck it up, Buttercup!)

I relaxed in my hotel room the evening before the race and went to bed a little after eight o’clock (yes, on New Year’s Eve…I’m such a party animal) with Rebecca Skloot’s The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks , a fascinating book that was almost as engrossing as Laura Hillenbrand’s Unbroken, which I’d read prior to Rebecca’s book.

My early bedtime turned out to be a godsend, given the New Year’s Eve-related events of the overnight hours, which included the hour-plus amorous adventures in the room on one side of mine, and a semi-lucid, partially clad young woman spending another hour-plus trying to get into her room on the other side of mine. (Once I’d made sure she was okay, I contacted the front desk; despite the young lady’s objections--whether from chemical impairment or simple embarrassment--and her sincere thanks for my concern, I wanted to make sure she got back safely into her room. I'd also like to go all Dr. Phil on her male companion for refusing to answer the door when she knocked repeatedly--for the better part of an hour--and for setting the phone to go directly to voicemail.)

After a light breakfast, I headed out to the race area, making do with my GPS’s old (and therefore, limited and occasionally very inaccurate) maps. After checking in and picking up my bib, hat and shirt, I headed back to the far lot where I had parked my car. One of the volunteers setting up traffic cones for the last turn of the race asked me where I was parked. When I pointed to the far lot, he told me about a much closer lot that hadn’t been advertised. It was right next to the fire station, which was right across the street from the Elks Lodge that was serving as Race Central. Well, who am I to doubt a guy with a New England accent? I moved my car to the closer lot…and that’s when serendipity stepped in.

As I was going though my final race prep and stashing any unnecessary garb in my car, I met Michelle, who had noticed my New York State custom license plates with the Red Sox logo and the personalization, LUVSOX. She called her friend Stasia over, and we all began chatting. We talked about various races we’d run and how great the weather was for today’s run. (Fifty degrees is considered practically tropical in New England in early January.) We parted about 45 minutes before the race, as I (typically) wanted to hit the ladies’ room one last time before the start.

I spied a few dogs as I went through my warm-up and dynamic stretching. I met a Scottish Terrier, appropriately named Mac, whose owner, Dennis, was participating in the 5k. Mac let me pet him extensively; he must have known this was part of my pre-race ritual.
As we gathered near the starting line, we received instructions specific to the 5k and the 10k (the 10k runners would run the course twice). I reminded myself of my goal (just to run the full distance) and to relax and breathe and enjoy the run. The race announcer sent us on our way, shouting “Go! Go! Go!” and “Happy New Year,” as many of us whooped in response and headed down the road.

The course itself was fairly mundane for the first half. Most runners passed me, and I passed a few of my own. As has become my habit, I applauded all the cops (there were no civilian course marshals in this race) along the course, thanked them and shouted, “Be safe!” I saw Dennis pass me somewhere around the one-mile mark; he was walking quickly (not even full-on race walking), and he was passing me as I ran. I laughed and said, “You walk faster than I run!” He replied, “I’m just an old man out for a little walk!” I noticed a car coming up from behind me and mentioned my concern to Dennis. Clearly the voice of experience, he nonchalantly replied, “Oh, yeah. They don’t actually close the roads, but most of the cars are pretty good about giving the runners some room.” Only one car actually got my Irish up a bit: the driver was signaling to turn right, but there was no road for him to turn down; he actually wanted to pull over to the curb…right in front of me. I just muttered, “Oh, hell no,” checked over my left shoulder and passed the car. Yup, couldn’t pass an “old man out for a little walk,” but I did manage to pass a Jeep Cherokee.

We finally emerged from the residential area that comprised the majority of the first half of the race and turned onto Pawtucket Boulevard, which runs along the Merrimack River. When my legs would start to tire, I would look over at the river and briefly watch a seagull fly over the river or see scores of his friends perched on the river’s melting icy surface. I looked over a lot, because we ran down Pawtucket Boulevard for what seemed like forever (the remainder of the race, save about two blocks). Finally, I recognized the lot where I had originally parked my car and knew I was only a few blocks from the finish line. I smiled, realizing that I was going to run the full distance. I didn’t feel like my speed would be anything to write home about (it rarely is), but I would make my goal: to run the full distance.

As I approached the finish line, the announcer, who named every single finisher (God bless him!) called out, “And here’s the pride of Albany, New York, Joan Meyer!” I whooped, raised my arm in victory and crossed the finish line, elated. I was handed my finisher’s medal and suddenly realized the tune playing on my iPod was “Walk on the Moon” by the Canadian band Great Big Sea. That song is on one of my motivational play lists from when I began preparing for the Freihofer’s Run for Women and it's a fairly emotional song for me. I fought back the tears as I listened to the song as I thought of the promise of this new year, starting off with a 5k. My 5k’s aren’t going to set any records or put me on the cover of Runner’s World, but in the spirit of that song’s lyrics, “This is my one small step. This is my walk on the moon.” Kudos, iPod Shuffle Gods!

I caught up with Dennis, whose wife had met him around the three-mile mark so he could finish the race with Mac by his side. Mac cut a fine figure in his very own finisher’s medal, but my efforts to take his picture with my CrackBerry‘s camera were dashed when I realized the lens was fogged up from being too close to my sweaty body. What a shame, since I would have loved making Mac's medal-clad photo the signature shot for this entry.

I stopped briefly inside the Elks Lodge, bypassed the beer and pasta alfredo and had a small cup of homemade chicken noodle soup, then headed out to the car to drive over to Life Alive for my victory lunch. As I got to the car, Michelle saw me and she and Stasia and I caught up and chatted a while. We talked of how well organized this race was and what other great races there are in New England. I mentioned my hopes for running the Peachtree Road Race in Atlanta in July, a race that Stasia had previously completed. We laughed a lot, took some pictures, exchanged e-mail addresses, “friended” each other on Facebook, and hugged goodbye.

One of the most interesting and ironic things I’ve discovered about running is that it is a typically solitary sport that opens up to you an entire community. I headed off to Life Alive with a smile and a growling tummy. In the restroom at Life Alive, there’s a framed print called "How to Build Community"; I couldn’t help noticing how many of the things on that list tied in with the running community I have been so blessed to join. After a quick lunch, I headed back toward Albany.

The Lowell 1^st Run is not only my first 5k of 2011, it’s also my first run outside New York State, which fit my theme for 2011: increasing the adventure, running longer distances including the Run to Home Base 9k in Boston and the Peachtree Road Race (10k) in Atlanta, attempting multi-sport events (a duathlon and a sprint triathlon) and venturing farther from home. In addition to the Ohio Women’s Triathlon for the Cure (250-yard open water swim, 7k bike ride, 2-mile run), I also registered for the Tropical 5k in Miami, which will be held on January 29^th. That race also gives me an opportunity to visit with a college friend (as the Peachtree enables me to visit with another college friend) and to enjoy some truly warm temperatures in the midst of the Northeast’s often most brutal stretch. I was particularly pleased and, frankly, honored that my friend Caroline also registered for the Tropical 5k. And Caroline is gradually convincing other friends to join in. Yay!!! It’s such a thrill watching the community of fledgling runners-who-never-thought-they’d-ever-be-runners grow!

2010 had begun with tremendous hope for me, but by spring I experienced emotional loss I often wondered if I was really strong enough to survive. As a result, there were days when it seemed “this running thing” I wanted to do would be over before I really got it going. But overall, running was really what saved me from the worst of myself. In the final analysis, 2010 was filled with personal triumphs, thanks to running and the support of so many friends. Starting off 2011 with a 5k was just what I needed.

Yup, I think I’m going to like this 2011. After all, it’s a prime number. And y’all know how I love my primes!

Happy New Year!