A manifesto, revised

Sometime around the start of the new year, I decided I'd like to write more often. Specifically, for this blog.

Seeing as I don't make New Year's resolutions, this notion bounced around in my head and now here I am in February having written approximately zero posts. Part of me didn't know how to pick up where I'd left off; things I like to write about have evolved since I started this blog in 2011. So I went back to my first post for inspiration.

Back then, I felt there was a dearth of women-specific running and fitness writing that felt authentic, or that truly addressed the things that women care about. In regard to running, I care about things like setting time or distance goals, personal safety, and the camaraderie of other runners, but please, tell me for the hundredth time how to style my ponytail for a race. (For the record, I don't think there's anything wrong with having or wanting a cute ponytail. I just think there's a lot more to it than that.)

Nowadays, there's a lot more writing about running and fitness in general, meaning there are more substantive pieces written by and for and about women. But there's also the current crop of running blogs out there that use a what-I-did-today style of writing (spoiler: it's not a whole heck of a lot) accompanied by a slew of selfies and pair after pair of Important Corporate Sponsor running shoes. And, of course, the endless disclaimers: "This post is sponsored. All opinions are my own." Ha! Bullshit.

I don't want to read advertising copy disguised as content. I also don't want to write it. I'd rather offer my opinions on a piece of gear, or a book, or a supplement because I spent my own dough on it. I'd rather be a half decent writer with readers that appreciate my perspective, even if they disagree with me. And I'd rather buy my own damn running shoes, thankyouverymuch.

I hope you'll join me in this next adventure.