Look around you.
Did you just lift your head and scan the room? That’s not exactly what I meant. I mean take a closer look at the blogging running community you’re part of. Isn’t it amazing!
For me, meeting so many blogging runners friends—BRFs—has been wonderful and it’s high time I said it. I belong to our local running club, run with friends occasionally, and “talk running” when(ever) I can. These are great friends and I’ll always value them. However, today, I’m championing BRFs and how privileged I feel to know you through blogging.
Many days I spend time during my morning runs and during both my commutes eager to read my BRFs’ posts—to see what you have to say, how your runs went, what you’re thinking as you countdown toward your races. A few of you have even been in the shower with me—strictly while I was washing.
Amy and I chat on the fly at work and say, “You gotta read 'BRFs' Name' post from today? It’s hilarious!” Or “Did you see 'BFR's Name' post from the weekend. She had an amazing race!” Or "'BRF's name' is so down and discouraged. Gotta pick him up.”
The daily camaraderie and support from BRFs is greater than most non BRFs get in a lifetime. In addition to your posts, BRFs’ best sides come from their comments. Comments are where the thoughtful support, the keenest insights, and your top-of-head personality comes out. BRFs are comedians, gurus, fans, rock stars, poets, EMTs, heroes, addicts, artists, therapists, coaches, philosophers, and saints.
Have you ever tried yet to explain to a friend, family member or co-worker about a comment, a situation, or an accomplishment of a BRF? Of someone you’ve never met? You’ll get stares like you’re off the wall or warnings that they could be pervs or ax murderers. Unexplainedly, BRFs become friends rapidly, bound by our human side, and that we’re all ordinary runners living ordinary lives and have connected through fun, engaging running conversations.
Between BRFs, there are no boundaries. We look to each other to listen, react, throw out suggestions, and solve problems. BRFs give permission and support for being who we are, expressing our voice, the realities of our running and our living, and that’s the fabric of our conversations back and forth. Some of you are the first ones I’d call to bail me out of jail.
The world of BRFs are welcoming and hospitable. No snobbery. No arrogance. We introduce each other to new BRFs through shout outs and links. BRFs don’t seem to forget what it was like to start reading other BRFs’ blogs, lurking, starting your own blog, posting that first awkward message, trying lame humor, going unread for awhile, and waiting for that first comment (woohoo and dance).
BRFs honor many unwritten rules. We just get it about being decent, sensible, and open to others. With BRFs, the humor flies abundantly. There’s a wide range of humor and sarcasm, but I don’t see many instances of crossing a line. Most of us have snorted, choked on our food, or sprayed drink out our noses when reading posts and comments. And most humor comes at our own expense when we poke fun of ourselves. What a humble crowd we are.
BRFs present a united front. We wouldn’t let another BRF hang out there to dry and be bashed, stand alone or bewildered, or struggle without answers or without encouragement. Most of us look at a “0 Comments” field as an opportunity to make a connection, say something first, or be a just-in-time friend to a new or unrecognized BRF.
I think true BRFs actually care less about what we have to say and more about what’s going in other BRF’s lives. For me, I’ve learned far more than anything I’ve written—from the great attitudes and experiences taking place with so many of you. From many of you I’ve learned some of your ideas, followed some advice about mistakes to avoid, and found the courage to break out of some of my mindsets and habits.
BRFs are great ambassadors of community running. Through all your blogs, I’ve been taken to your homes, neighborhoods, trails, fantastic races, and local running traditions. Through your posts I’ve experienced and ENJOYED more pre-race musings, finish-line triumphs, and natural beauty than I would ever experience merely on my own living in Iowa.
BRFs are true friends. We know more about each other than we know about many of our friends and co-workers. We know about each others’ training and races, when we’re up, down, confused, injured, or on top of the world. We know about careers, what’s for dinner, when you play bunco, when the kids are sick, and what’s interfering with or shining in our running and daily lives.
I haven’t run a race since starting blogging, but for those who blog and have raced, I can only imagine what it’s like. It must feel like you have dozens, maybe hundreds of BRFs who are behind you, sending you great vibes of support and strength. Who else but BRFs have a platoon of running friends?
So my BRFs, meeting you for the first time and checking in with you regularly through blogging has made my running and life much richer.
I believe if I needed an organ transplant, I’d get a donor from my BRFs. Think I’ll have my blog roll engraved on my donor bracelet.
Thanks a bunch!
Thank you, you rock on Flickr by Qathi
In my rambling, I came to the realization that running isn't about times, distances, races or speed. It is mostly about heart. It is about taking some gutty emotion to complete a run that our bodies may not have been built to finish on that particular day. It's about getting out there and running no matter your doubts. 
