Well wouldn’t ya know it…this little baby blog of mine has turned into a one-year-old!
Actually, technically yesterday was my blogger-versary, but you get the idea.
I can’t believe it’s been a year since I joined the land of race recaps, blogger meet-ups, and pumpkin oatmeal . Kidding! I hate pumpkin oatmeal…pause for reaction…but seriously the rest of it is true.
I never thought I’d say it at the beginning of all this, but I actually feel like I’m a part of the running community…and not just in Seattle, but around the country. There is something so special about female runners (particularly those that write too!), and I’m proud to call myself “one of them.”
I’ve learned about things I’d never heard of before through this community (FlyWheel? Bodyglide? Compression Socks?), and I’ve met some pretty awesome people along the way. That’s not a typo…I legit didn’t know about Bodyglide.
As much as I love this community, and the opportunities my blog has given me within it, I do sometimes feel like an outsider looking in. When I first started Run Birdie Run in 2011, readership was honestly the last thing on my mind. In fact, I was embarrassed to think of someone finding my blog. Little by little though, my guard came down and instead of completely censuring myself and editing every last thing I wrote, I decided that if I was going to have a website—I wanted it to be me, no matter if 1,000 people read it or 1 (Hi Mom!).
I’ve also made a conscious effort to stop “wishing” I was a different kind of writer, runner, blogger, etc. When you’re in this community, one that’s full of creativity, talent, SPEED, and competitiveness, it’s inevitable that you start to compare yourself to others. I’ve buried myself deep in this game from time to time, and I reached a point where I decided to crawl to the surface and allocate that energy in a more constructive manner. Namely, I’ve decided to appreciate my own uniqueness as opposed to wishing I was more like other people.
True, most of us are very, very similar—which is inevitable given such similar interests and lifestyles—but I think it’s the differences that make everyone relatable, enjoyable, and interesting. Not to get all kindergarten teacher about this—but it’s kind of the truth. Multiple carbon copies of people, blogs, styles, you name it, is boring.
So, in honor of appreciating what we have to offer, I thought I’d give you a sample of my favorite posts from this year. Some are based on what was written, some are based on what was going on in them. Allow me then, furthermore, to toot my own horn for a minute.
In no particular order…
The post where I talked about how I had gone a year without getting on the scale.
The post when I got super metaphorical about stress, balloons, and running.
The time when I realized that marathon training is really, really hard.
When I discovered Central Governor’s Theory and fell hard for it.
The time when I realized I need to get out of my comfort zone, and I liked it.
The post where I finally understood that rest is sometimes the best.
The time I ran through the Happiest Place on Earth with my best friend.
The running blog trap.
The most fun I’ve ever had in a race (and a marathon PR).
Those moments, along with several others, help narrate so many of the things I’ve learned about running and about myself over this past year.
One of the best parts about having a blog, journal, etc. is the ability to look back, reflect, and recognize just how much of a difference time can make. The ability to bring together two things I love—running and writing— has brought a whole other level of how I understand myself as a runner. It’s a beautiful marriage, and not one that I intend to stop anytime soon.
Because that’s ultimately the reason why I have, and continue to have, this blog. As much as I love the fun photos, details, and sarcastic remarks that come with being a blogger, for me it’s more about the cathartic, exploratory nature of it. So often when I write my posts I’m talking to myself as much as I am the reader, and by the time I finish—I’m normally not in the spot I thought I would end up in. Writing is a lot like running for me in that regard—and when you pair the two together, don’t even get me started. It’s like I’m a writer with a running problem…or perhaps a runner with a writing problem. Either way—you understand.
In all, it’s been a good year. I love the people I’ve met, I love the experiences I’ve had (both good and bad), and I’m looking forward to all the things to come from my small presence on the internet.