Yesterday was my long run.  I ran 22 miles, and it was much better than last week when I hit the wall and became dizzy.  Still, I don’t think I’m training smart.  I did 11 miles on Saturday when I should have been resting; I could feel the fatigue in my legs yesterday.  They were tired, and I had to push through the run.  When I was finished the run my body was so sore and achy I was walking funny back to the car.  I immediately came home to stretch, but Sam, my dog, was feeling left out.  He decided to do some yoga, too.  How could I say no to him? (Sorry for the blur.  My iPhone is broken.) So what was I thinking on this long run?  More recovery analogies?  Actually, yes, but I will save those for another time.  I was reflecting on how I have several postings I’ve completed but haven’t published.  My reluctance in publishing them is that I feel no one would want to read them.  I feel the writing isn’t good, the content is crap, and readers would be disappointed. I play the comparison game a lot with my blog.  I read a myriad of other blogs and see how large their readership is and how popular they are.  They’re funny, they’re interesting, they’re engaging.  I’m left feeling that nobody will care what I have to say, that my voice is unimportant, and my blog is boring.  I realize that the other blogs I read appeal to a broader community than my blog on dissociation and an eating disorder.  The blogs I read, other than a handful of mental health blogs, are blogs on running and food.  That type of blog just attracts a wider audience.  In addition, they are professional bloggers.  But still, I feel what I have to say is lifeless, bland, and unworthy of reading. I know this is my blog and I can say what I want and how I want.  But I feel it is your blog, too.  If I wanted to write just to express my feelings, I would do that in my private journal.  I write on this blog to share my life, my hopes, my successes/failures, and my story.  It is my hope that the reader will be able to take something away from reading my words and that they can relate to me and realize they are not alone.    In writing this just now, I realized I am deciding for you, by  not publishing my posts, what you find useful and interesting, and that is unfair to you.  I do  have a voice, and I shouldn’t shut it off because I predict you won’t want to hear it. So I may not have the blogging success of others I read, but that doesn’t mean the blog I do have is a failure, I hope. This blog may not be perfect.  It may lack style and a certain je ne sais quoi.  And  my thoughts definitely tumble over themselves, competing for attention, causing my writing to be frustrating and effortful.   But I have a voice and it should be heard.  And it is my wish that from my blog you will take what you need, find a little hope, and know you  have a friend,  crappy writing and all.