When I packed for the Girls on the Run Summit, I almost didn't go.

Leaving home felt harder this year than it ever has. Between my husband’s recovery and everything we've been navigating as a family, I wasn't sure it was the right decision. I worried about what might happen while I was gone.

As it turns out, everyone survived just fine. The house, however, tells a slightly different story. I'm fairly certain a small tornado passed through while I was gone. Dishes, laundry, shoes...it all waited patiently for me. I'll be cleaning for days.

And you know what? I wouldn't trade those few days away for anything.

This was my fourth Girls on the Run Summit, and something felt different.

For the first time, I wasn't standing on the edges of conversations wondering if I belonged. I found myself joining discussions, laughing with people I'd only known through email or Zoom, reconnecting with friends from other councils, and simply feeling comfortable. If you've known me for a while, you know that's not always my default. I've often been more of the wallflower, quietly observing before joining in. This year, I felt like I belonged.

One of my favorite parts of the trip wasn't even at the conference. It was the drive.

Katie, Kelsey, and I spent several hours together in the car, and those conversations turned out to be some of the most meaningful moments of the week. We talked about work, leadership, life, our hopes for Girls on the Run Piedmont, and plenty of things completely unrelated to work. I walked away feeling like I had connected more deeply with both of them, and those relationships grew because we simply had time together without an agenda.

I also tried to be mindful that traveling with your Executive Director probably feels a little like taking a road trip with your uncool mom. At least that's probably how they saw it. In my mind, of course, we're basically the same age. And you should have seen me dancing on the boat...so there.

Professionally, Summit left me inspired.

One of the sessions that stayed with me most was presented by our sister council in Richmond. Their growth over the past several years has been incredible, but what impressed me wasn't simply the numbers. It was their intentional focus on building and supporting their staff while they grew. They demonstrated that rapid growth doesn't have to come at the expense of your people. As someone who spends a lot of time thinking about the future of Girls on the Run Piedmont, I left with pages of notes and even more ideas.

I was also honored to collaborate on a session about how we're using the BAND app in Piedmont. I'll admit I was nervous. Sharing something with peers always feels a little vulnerable, but once we got started, it became a great conversation. It reminded me that the things we've learned through trial and error can genuinely help other councils.

Then came one of my favorite surprises.

I discovered there's actually a Long-Term Council Director group, and not only was I welcomed into it, but I received a button. If you aren't part of Girls on the Run, you may not understand why that matters, but buttons are basically GOTR currency. I was probably far more excited than any reasonable adult should be.

Another unexpected surprise came when someone from Headquarters mentioned they had been reading my blog.

My blog.

I'll be honest, I thought my mother-in-law was my primary audience.

Writing has become a way for me to process this season of life, and I never really think much about who might be reading on the other side of the screen. Learning that people at Headquarters had been following along was both surreal and incredibly encouraging.

It reminded me that when we share honestly, our words often travel farther than we realize.

Of course, I could not do a blog without a few stories.

At one point, Kelsey, another council director, and I found ourselves trapped in an elevator. As I stood there, I caught myself doing one of the breathing techniques we teach our Girls on the Run participants. It made me laugh because just a few weeks ago I wrote about how much harder it is to live these lessons than it is to teach them. Apparently, they really do work. Let's just keep that between us. Kelsey still thinks I was as cool as a cucumber.

Later, my hotel room key decided it no longer wanted to cooperate, resulting in three separate trips from the 31st floor to the lobby before the problem was finally fixed.

Honestly, though, I didn't mind.

I had been given an incredible corner room overlooking Lake Erie. Every time I walked back into that room, I found myself stopping for a few minutes just to take in the view. Looking out over the water and the city became part of my daily routine. After months filled with hospitals, therapy appointments, caregiving, and constantly thinking about what comes next, those quiet moments gave me something I didn't realize I desperately needed.

Rest.

Reflection.

Perspective.

I'm so grateful for that unexpected gift.

One thing I noticed about myself throughout the trip was that I was much more intentional about protecting my energy. Instead of trying to attend everything or talk to everyone, I found quiet places to recharge between sessions. I stepped away when I needed a break. I didn't feel guilty for taking care of myself so I could fully engage when I returned.

Even during the elevator incident and the hotel room adventures, I realized how much calmer I've become. A few years ago, those frustrations probably would have stolen my joy. This year, they simply became funny stories.

As I drove home, I realized Summit gave me much more than new ideas.

It reminded me that while life at home has changed dramatically over the past several months, I haven't lost myself.

I'm still growing.

I'm still learning.

I'm still investing in relationships.

I'm still finding opportunities to lead.

And perhaps most importantly, I'm still finding joy.

Looking back, this Summit wasn't really about presentations, buttons, or elevators.

It reminded me that caring for myself isn't selfish. It reminded me that relationships matter just as much as the sessions themselves. It reminded me that leadership isn't only about pouring into others. Sometimes it's about allowing yourself to be poured into.

Four Summits later, I finally stopped feeling like I had to earn my place in the room.

I simply enjoyed being there.

I came home with new ideas, deeper relationships, a heart that felt a little lighter, and a renewed gratitude for my team, this incredible organization, the breathtaking view over Lake Erie, and the reminder that sometimes the best thing we can do for the people who depend on us is to step away long enough to refill our own cup.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a house that appears to have survived a natural disaster while I was away.