From the Editor: Melissa Riccobono is the first lady of the National Federation of the Blind, the co-host of the Nation’s Blind Podcast, and, as she shows in this article, has held or currently holds many other leadership roles in our movement. The National Federation of the Blind is dedicated both to helping blind people achieve our individual dreams and engaging in collective action to advance all of our lives. Happily, we often find ways for these two missions to intersect, and Melissa describes how such an intersection was personally profound for her and how it can be for our readers as well. Learn more and plan your own participation at nfb.org/movers, or make a financial contribution in honor of a runner/walker at nfb.org/contribute/baybridge.
Here is what Melissa shares:
As I step out of the van, I hear the sounds of hundreds—perhaps even thousands—of people. There’s fast-paced, familiar music filling the air. There’s someone on a mic making announcements. There’s cheering in the distance. There are the feelings of the sunshine and a soft fall breeze on my skin. And there’s something else in the air—invisible, but unmistakable—an energy that makes my heart speed up, brings a smile to my face, and a few happy tears to my eyes that I do not shed. It is at once positively familiar yet something I foolishly believed I’d never feel again in quite the way I used to. It is the energy of competition, of teamwork, and of people eager to conquer something for themselves while also being a part of something bigger. It is truly a bridge back to myself, the person I used to be and the way I used to feel.
These are all of the things I experienced in November 2024, as I waited for my turn to take part in the Bay Bridge Run/Walk. The first time I rode across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in November 2003, I was fascinated. What an iconic bridge—a bridge that connects the Western and Eastern parts of Maryland, a bridge that is 4.4 miles long and 186 feet tall. We have nothing like it in Wisconsin where I grew up. Now that Maryland was home, I was lucky enough to have the Chesapeake Bay, and this bridge, only forty-five minutes from my home.
I don’t know why, but I asked the driver if people could walk across the bridge, or if it was just for traffic. I was told that, for the most part, people could not walk across the bridge, but on one day a year, the bridge was open to runners and walkers. At that moment, I added participating in this event to my bucket list. I knew I wanted to experience the length and height of the bridge, and the only way I could truly do this was by running or walking across it.
When I added this event to my bucket list, I figured it would only be a short time before I checked it off. After all, I was young and healthy. I ran track in eighth grade and cross-country and track in high school. I ran in the Paralympics in Atlanta in 1996. I participated in some 5K and longer races in college, though I did not run nearly as much then as I did while training in high school.
I had my share of injuries—sprained ankles a few times and, unfortunately, some extremely painful stress fractures in my legs that cut some of my seasons short—and I did not have someone to serve as a guide runner for me in Maryland. But I figured these things could be overcome. I could advertise and find a guide runner. I could start training. I could heal from any injuries. And I could run the Bay Bridge. It was as simple as that.
Life, as John Lennon observed, is what happens while we’re making other plans. As my husband, Mark, settled into his new job at the National Federation of the Blind, I began my own job hunt. I had a brand new master’s degree in counseling psychology, with an emphasis in school counseling. I wanted a job, but not just any job; I wanted a job as a school counselor, ideally in an elementary school. It took nine months, but I finally landed this job in the fall of 2004.
Hobbies, including running, took a back seat as I learned to navigate my job and all of my new responsibilities and as Mark and I hunted for, bought, and moved into the first house we owned together. By 2005 I felt ready to begin running again. I started out on the treadmill, wanting to get into some type of shape before looking for a guide.
Unfortunately, my knee began to bother me. I eventually went to physical therapy to strengthen it and found out the way my feet strike the ground while running is somewhat unusual. My therapist told me I could absolutely run again, but before I started training, I needed to go to a specific shoe store where they could watch me run and where they could recommend, and I could purchase, specific shoes that took my running style into account and would help alleviate the strain on my body. This sounded expensive, and while I waited to save some money for this purchase, I got pregnant with our first child, Cynthia.
I will not bore you with a breakdown of everything else that happened, year after year, which caused me to put my running on hold. Of course there were two other children who joined our family. I became president of the National Federation of the Blind of Maryland for a time, and then Mark was elected President of the National Federation of the Blind.
Our lives were full. I couldn’t quite figure out how I would put running into the mix. Then, for a while, the Bay Bridge Run/Walk was not held, so I figured there was no way I would ever be able to go across the bridge on foot. Then the pandemic came, and, for me, serious health concerns that had been building for a while and were finally diagnosed as chronic fatigue syndrome in the winter of 2022.
To say that chronic fatigue changed my life is a vast understatement. I am incredibly lucky to have received treatment that has improved my symptoms a great deal. But back when I was diagnosed, I truly believed participation in any strenuous exercise was over. I could not stay awake for an entire day; I needed at least one nap in the afternoon to function. I had severe short-term memory and word retrieval issues. I had an incredibly difficult time writing, something I have always enjoyed and taken pride in.
There were events I wanted to attend but just couldn’t because I knew I would not be able to get through them without becoming completely exhausted and staying exhausted for days to come. Chronic fatigue does not just make you tired; it crushes you. You are tired down to your very bones and in your soul. You reach for some energy reserve, but there’s nothing there. My doctor told me to exercise for five minutes a day. That was it. Of course I could walk, but I couldn’t get my heart rate up for much more than five minutes. This made running out of the question even if I had the energy to run, which of course I didn’t.
Listening to my doctor, changing my diet, and taking a variety of supplements slowly began to work for me. Also, and most importantly, learning to listen to my body and give it the rest it needed when it needed the rest and not just pushing through made an enormous difference in the amount of energy I began to regain. It did take time, but the changes in me were unmistakable. Little by little, I could begin to look ahead not to what I needed to do in order to keep up my energy and avoid crashing but to things I wanted to and could do with the energy I actually had. This was an amazing transformation.
In 2022, I saw a post on Facebook that the Bay Bridge Run/Walk was going to be held again. Unfortunately, it was happening the same weekend as the National Federation of the Blind of Maryland Convention, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to take part. But the desire to take part, and the belief that I might actually have the energy to do so, kindled something inside I hadn’t felt for a very long time. It was the first step in crossing the bridge back to myself.
In 2024, I decided it was time for me to stop just saying I wanted to walk the bridge and to do something about it. So I posted on Facebook that I intended to walk the bridge—I don’t know if I’ll ever have the stamina to run again the way I used to, but that’s OK—and asked if anyone would like to walk with me. And, to my surprise, two people who serve with me on the board of the National Organization of Parents of Blind Children (NOPBC) said they wanted to walk with me, and they weren’t even from Maryland.
And then local friends said they wanted to walk with me. And then we discovered that there was a way for charities to create teams and use this event as a fundraiser, so the NOPBC and the National Federation of the Blind started asking others from around the country to join this walk virtually or in person. All of a sudden, there I was in November 2024, along with many others from the NFB and NOPBC, at a starting line again. No, I wasn’t running as part of a school team to try to place and earn points, but the adrenaline and energy were the same.
I was walking for myself, with others. I felt like an athlete again; something I hadn’t felt for years. We were raising awareness of blindness. We were out in the community, along with tons of other people, enjoying a beautiful fall day and experiencing something many have not. And there were Federationists across the country who were walking with us in their own way, bringing awareness of blindness to their own communities and proving to themselves that they had the strength to run or walk six miles.
Our daughter, Oriana, ran the entire race that day. She ran in her Crocs—I do not recommend this, but she’s young so she was no worse for wear. She wasn’t really planning to run the entire event, but she got caught up in the energy, and she was so proud when she finished the race. She plans to run again this year; I guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree! (She will definitely wear proper shoes this time!)
I was obviously not the first to finish, but I was certainly not the last. I was tired at the end of the walk, but after a good sleep, I was thrilled that I bounced back and had energy to be productive the next day. Now, as the event gets closer this year, I am walking more in preparation for crossing the bridge again.
As I am preparing to walk the bridge again this year, I hope many of you will consider joining me on this adventure, either in person on Sunday, November 9, or virtually at a convenient time for you.
If you are a runner, you can run the six miles—and more power to you! However, you don’t have to be in perfect shape. You don’t have to run the fastest to take part. If you’re a part of our virtual event, you don’t even have to run or walk the entire six miles at one time. What you might have to do is to go a little outside of your comfort zone.
What I recommend that you do is find others to come along with you for the experience; it’s always more fun with friends. What we ask you to do is to tell others about your participation in this event and ask them for financial contributions to the National Federation of the Blind—the organization that believes in blind people and our dreams and creates bridges of all kinds for us to cross.
What I wish for you is the feeling of energy that comes at the beginning of the event and the pride in yourself and your team when the event is complete. If you are already in great shape, allow this to be an event to help you continue your healthy lifestyle. If you have doubts about whether you can make it or if you should participate at all, take small steps now to test the waters. And if you don’t end up being able to make it the entire way, at least you tried. And there are Federationists across the country who are cheering you on.
Taking part in the Bay Bridge Run/Walk was a private dream of mine. It grew, then partially died, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to achieve it. Yet I did achieve this dream, and this achievement was made all the sweeter because of the others who participated with me in order to achieve dreams of their own and who used the event to raise money so the Federation can continue to help all blind people achieve our dreams.
Yes, this is a personal story of triumph for me, and I am proud of myself and grateful each day for how far I have come. But I am just as grateful to share this adventure with all of you. I cannot wait to hear your stories of participation in the Bay Bridge Run/Walk and how this event helped you cross a bridge to yourself and a bridge to our dreams.