Thu, May 23 2013
Filed under: Personal •
Many, many years ago I ran the 4 X 400 relay on my track team. I was no star, but I loved the race. It’s a long, tough sprint that leaves you completely spent yet strangely exhilarated. The coach used to tell me to leave nothing behind on the track. The trick at the end was to finish with only enough strength to raise an arm and pass the baton.
I started this blog nearly seven years ago. For the first few years, I posted several times a week. Then I got serious on January 1, 2011, when I started posting every single weekday. Go big or go home, I figured. If I was going to blog, I should throw my full self into it and truly sprint. I didn’t miss a day for nearly two and a half years, and that’s when this blog really took off. I think the daily posting forced me to be a more disciplined thinker and writer, and as the quality of my posts grew, so did the community around the blog. It’s been a good lesson to me in the power of concentrated commitment in the face of discomfort (which daily posting can be!).
But now it’s time for me to pass the proverbial baton, for several reasons. First, I am striking out on a new adventure. After eight wonderful years at Network for Good, I’m moving on to take a job as CEO at ePals, an education media company that connects learners around the world. That will be my new sprint. Second, I’m more than a little winded. After nearly 1,500 posts, I’ve said nearly all I could ever imagine saying. And so I am passing the blog baton to the Network for Good team. Network for Good will host the blog and all the archives and add posts content regularly, starting now.
This is the perfect handoff, because Network for Good’s mission is the same as mine has been with this blog: to give you, the amazing person doing good in the world, a little information, insight or inspiration to help you along the way. The Network for Good team will be lucky to have you, and they know it and will serve you well.
I said in my book that writing advice for others is an act both vain and humbling. Vain, because to sit down and write you must believe yourself an expert. Humbling, because in writing you discover there is so much you don’t know. I’m grateful to you for being with me as I learned along the way. Thanks for reading this blog over the years - and for continuing to read it in the future. And even more important, thank you for the incredible work you do, day in and day out, to make a difference for someone or something that matters. The world needs you and your concentrated commitment in the face of discomfort. How fortunate we all are that you chose to be a sprinter for good.