I forgot to introduce myself last night.
I didn’t even realize it until today.
And somehow… it didn’t matter.
Which honestly feels about right.
Because this night?
It was never about me.
It started before the night even began, when I met a woman who had volunteered at our fall 5K through another organization. She told me she reads my emails (I know… shocking), bought tickets, and brought friends.
That moment alone was enough for me to think…
okay, something is working.
And then the night unfolded.
We laughed. A lot.
We got a little wild… which, if you know me, is saying something. Apparently, I know how to throw a party.
There were teary-eyed moments, a knocked-over wine glass, a popped balloon, and just enough chaos to remind us what it feels like to be human… and maybe even what it feels like to be one of our girls.
Because that’s the thing.
We don’t just teach girls about emotions.
We create spaces where they can actually experience them, understand them, and move through them.
And somewhere between the laughter and the mess, I realized…
we were doing the same thing that night.
We honored not one, but two Wonder Women—the kind who don’t ask for recognition, who quietly hold things together across schools and counties, who shape girls’ lives in ways most people will never fully see.
The kind of women I get to call when I need advice.
That’s not something I take lightly.
And Nikki…
your full-on, no-holding-back ugly cry on stage?
Absolute proof of how much heart lives behind this work.
I love you for it.
And Laura… those unicorn socks.
I don’t think anyone in the room realized it, but you were bringing a little bit of the very beginning with you. Back to our first 5K together, when you were the principal at Pierce Elementary, helping girls learn that this was possible.
That same kind of magic was in the room that night.
We had DJ Kinetic Katie working the room, and I’m pretty sure she called a few of you out by stopping the music at just the right moment, so we could hear your whole heart.
Kelsey absolutely crushed the silent auction. We had to ask the venue for another table… and it still wasn’t enough.
I got to meet Kathlynn from Elevate Designs, who created those incredible centerpieces and our photo wall, and then stayed to celebrate with us.
And maybe one of my favorite parts…
The number of men in the room.
Husbands. Boyfriends. Supporters.
Not on the sidelines.
Not disengaged.
But present.
That matters more than we talk about.
By the end of the night, I was exhausted.
The kind of tired that comes from giving everything you have.
But then my friend, and board member, Pam, made sure I didn’t leave empty-handed… sending me home with custom chicken Pam-panadas.
Be jealous.
They were amazing. No, I am not sharing.
But here’s the part I keep coming back to…
Every single year, I say:
“This will be our last Sneaker Soiree.”
Because it’s a lot.
It’s work.
It’s stress.
It’s wondering if people will come, if it will be worth it, if we can pull it off one more time.
And every single year…
It grows.
It gets better.
It reaches more people.
It becomes something bigger than I imagined.
I’ve already had texts, calls, and emails asking about next year.
So maybe I'll stop saying that.
Maybe I do what I’ve done since the beginning of Girls on the Run…
And just hold on for the ride.
Because if there’s one thing this night reminded me of, it’s this:
The finish line is never the end.
It’s where everything begins.