Most people think I'm an extrovert because on the outside I'm bubbly and chatty, but really I'm an introvert at heart. I guess you could call me an "outgoing introvert". I share opinions and experiences willingly, but not my feelings. Few people, even those closest to me, are privy to the inner Amy because over the last fifty years I adeptly wove a tough outer shell that protects the vulnerable, soft insides such that when it comes to writing about personal things, it seems like the shell is cracking and parts are oozing out. It's scary!

After posting my first entry in Diary of a Happy Runner, I awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat wishing I could fly up into the "cloud" and rescue my words. My husband tried in vain to explain that this "cloud"is a huge computer that forever stores all things digital. Whatever it is, my words are there, I can't duct tape the cracks and I feel naked.

Even though I'm vulnerable, I’m compelled to share my story for my own personal growth and perhaps it will help others pedaling their way through life. The comment of one of my readers, "...loved your post on how we all go through different stages. I appreciate how real and honest you are…" emboldens me to continue. As does the fact that the morning after I posted my first entry, I woke up safe even though I shared my inner person. My shell is still intact, it just has windows that I can open from time to time. How liberating, rewarding and yet terrifying it is to do so!