My Kind of Brave

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I have lived in New York for a year and a half now. I have a job that I love. I work with amazing people. I am making friends and real connections, yet something is missing. That something is I miss what I had with my amazing running club in Florida. PRS is different. It is welcoming and inviting and there are so many people that you don’t care that you are the slowest or the new one. I joined PRS before it was the massive club that it is now, and I knew pretty much everyone as they joined. I didn’t have to be brave to be a part of PRS it came to me. I was running with my running coach prior to joining the club that he started. It was a simple transition.

Since moving here I have not found my people yet. It is not because people are not welcoming. It is not because people are not inviting. It is because it is really scary to go in being the “slow” one in a new group. It is scary going in knowing that I am not going to be able to be on their level. It is a mind game that I play with myself over and over again. This week I got a step closer to going to a group run. I took the train out there. I saw people headed that way and I ALMOST spoke to someone. Then I lost my voice and walked into Starbucks. Then I went for a run on my own. This week that was my version of brave. I tried. I will get there and I will find my people and my tribe. However, until I am able to be brave enough to join a new group or even try out a new group. I will continue to be my kind of brave. I will continue to at least show up for myself. I may be alone on the road but at least I have made it to the road.

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