Veterans
Team RWB Veteran Ambassador Program
Whether you're an active duty service member or an honorably discharged veteran, Team RWB needs your help to spread the word about our mission. We believe that consistent exercise is the most under-prescribed response to counter the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress (PTSD) and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). But don't just take our word for it – here are just a few Team RWB wounded veteran athletes who have found physical fitness to be transformative in their struggles with PTSD and TBI (insomnia, headaches, depression). Running, triathlons, and Crossfit are all proven ways to increase physical, psychological, and social health, so if you are a veteran or active duty service member, please email ambassador@teamrwb.org with the following:
1. Your DD-214 or proof of Active Duty, (please black-out any personal or sensitive information such as your Social Security number or names of family members).
2. Your shirt size
3. An address for us to mail your red, K-Swiss-made wicking shirt
We look forward to you joining us, feeling the esprit de corps of being a member of Team RWB,--and making a difference in the future of our country.
IT'S OUR TURN!
Support Team RWB by purchasing official gear at our online store here.
Team RWB Veterans Outreach to Physical Fitness
Team Red, White & Blue is rooted in the belief that the best way to support wounded veterans is by spending time with them, listening to them, and supporting them in personal and meaningful ways. Ultimately, the aim of Team RWB's community-building program is to bring wounded veterans together with civilian citizens in a way that enables them to establish authentic friendships. Team RWB advocates are not mentors – they are simply caring citizens who want to thank veterans for their service through their actions.
Stories from our Veterans
Chris - Washington:
When I was medically discharged from active duty for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, I felt like I had hit my peak in life and now was on the downhill slide. I was only twenty-two. As I tried to regain myself and move forward, I thought, “How can I expect more out of myself when I have a sense of demons in my head reminding me of my past?” I experienced a breakdown and felt incapable of being anything greater than just a disabled veteran.
Running was something I had heard helped others, but I wasn’t sure how much it could help me. As I thought more about it and started lacing up my shoes, I thought, “Who is going to run up beside me and tell me I’m unable to run correctly or good enough?” Running was the one place I could tell myself that I was successful – it was an escape from the negative voices in my head. Hearing the joy in my dog’s bark when I start to lace up my shoes for our now-daily runs around town helped me to realize that I’m capable of doing something besides sitting on the couch feeling sorry for myself.
I now run more miles than when I was on active duty. I may have been unable to deal with the demons in my head previously, but with running I am stronger and people are able support me in my new habit. I finally see myself not as that crazy disabled veteran but more as a physically fit former military guy who is working on his mental stuff one mile at a time.
Jim Wilkes:
It was 2003 when it hit me that the war at home was just as prevalent as the war I had just left. There seemed to be a common theme during my recovery – I like to call it “The Easy Way Out.” When I was diagnosed with PTSD, I was essentially deemed unessential, a long-term, nonproductive unit of society who would never be able to contribute again. Let’s just say the doctors took “the easy way out” and told me what I could not do, instead of what I could do. In 2007 I took control of my own recovery, and in 2008 I asked a doctor if triathlons were an option for me. His reply: “Jim, you have continuous head pain, you sporadically lose your sight, and what if you lose the function of your arm? Triathlons for you are impossible!” You guessed it – the easy way out! But on June 26, 2010, in Tupper Lake, New York, I crossed the line after 1.2 miles of swimming, 56 miles of cycling, and 13.1 of running. Last year I completed every major distance running and triathlon within 105 days. IMPOSSIBLE MY ASS, and anything but easy!
Today, despite the fact that I have head pain and vision problems in 100% of my races, lose total sight in 20% of my races, lose arm mobility in 60% of my races, and have immobility periods 30% of the year, I continue to race because anything is possible. It has taken eight long, hard years to learn that a doctor, PTSD, a grenade, or even an IED can’t stop me from living life. We are all warriors, and we will fight until the day we die. We choose to be “the first ones in, and the last ones out,” and we are the ones who will “keep up the fire!”
Joe Miller - Maine:
After months of training and consistently swimming the 1.2-mile distance of a half iron triathlon in less than forty minutes, I found myself in a similar situation following my service in Iraq. The months of consistent training with my primary emphasis on swimming had paid dividends, but I still had the same disturbing experience of my chest closing up, leading to a severe panic attack. At first, like the stubborn Airborne Ranger that I am, I pushed through the pain and asphyxiation common in such a severe reaction to PTSD until I started seeing spots. In that moment I realized that if I stopped I would not likely not meet my split time, but if I continued I could pass out and – with thousands of athletes in the lake – possibly drown before a lifeguard could render aid. The constant competitor in me wanted to curse it all and fight on to the Ranger objective, but all I could think of was my fiancée, Rachel, and what she means to me. I could not potentially risk my life for a stupid race. I swallowed my pride and swam to a lifeguard until the panic attack subsided, and then I continued to swim and finished my first lap. I was consistently having similar panic responses and the slow slog of sidestrokes had taken a toll mentally and physically. The temptation to swim on to an early finish with everyone else around me was intense.
But I would rather fail trying than succeed by cheating, so I slogged it out for another lap. It was harder, and I was the last out of the water – one minute behind the required split. The race director felt some empathy and let me continue, but he made it clear that he would not be so gracious after the bike portion. Despite all this, I finished, I was alive, and I made a decision for the future of my family that was not self-destructive. The roads run down by men suffering the invisible conditions of PTSD and TBI have seen similarly less ideal situations. But no matter how bad things get, the endurance and socialization into a Warrior Culture will see us through.
The first step for me was to recognize that, no matter how much I cared about serving my country, it had had negative effects on my body and especially on my soul. But I am still that stubborn paratrooper, and running ultramarathons allows me to maintain the mental conditioning I received at senior military college, infantry, ranger, and airborne training. Better yet, it gives me a place to deal with my constant negative emotions. Finishing an ultramarathon helped me admit to my therapist and myself that I regularly thought of ending my life no matter how hard I tried to stay positive. It has given me a mechanism to manage constant psychological problems in a way that is not self-destructive, and it reminds me that, even in the water when I can’t tell which way is up or on mile 45 of an ultramarathon, I am still the man I was before. I might even be a better one!
Harrison Manyoma and Dave Beard:
“Brothers in Arms, an Arm’s Reach Away Both Far and Near"
“I definitely thank God for having Dave in my life and being such a good friend to me and my family.” – Harrison
“The Team RWB partnership I have with Harrison is not a one-way street of support for him as the wounded veteran. We have much in common: our military deployment history, our commitment to family, and our faith. As such, it is an “iron sharpens iron” relationship, and I gain as much from it as he does.” – Dave
