What Is Normalacy?

I sit here on the airplane looking for inspiration.  To talk about running?  To talk about my life?  To talk fashion? School?  Eating and fueling properly?  I don’t even feel overly knowledgeable in any of the above topics-with regards to my life of course, but there is only so much you can say about that.

So I sit here wondering how I’ll draw you in.  How I’ll captivate your attention for a brief moment in time.

And that is where I sit on this two hour plane ride.  Trying to figure that out.

I have always felt a little bit off in regards to my own life.  As a United States citizen going to school at an all British Academy.  As the only blonde member of my all brunette family.  Moving back to the United States and having a deeply heavy British accent.  Don’t even get me started of how I would rather wake up early for 16 mile long run than go to the bars every weekend.  One might assume I would prefer to go against the gradient of everyday culture.  Whichever culture I choose to be participating in.

To say the least I have always felt like an outsider in my own life, let alone before I started learning what my life was about or became an adult.

Upon staring out of the window and at the dimly lit stars-I have wondered though, what exactly is normal?   What is normal to bloggers?  What is normal to nonbloggers?  I would beg to differ that my facebook friends appreciate my constant facebook updates and profile changes.  I would then beg to differ my tweeting friends wouldn’t wonder where if I went MIA upon not updating for a week or two.

Then I would also wonder if my dailymile friends would judge me if I went to the bars the night before a big race, while some of best college mates would question me if I didn’t.

It’s almost like my life has been at ends.  Who exactly am I (or are you) trying to impress by fitting the mold of the audience that perceives normal. 

Normal would be having your own fears of where your life is going and what direction you are going through.  Do not fear normalacy and do not fear being an outsider.  Fear living a life full of wonderment of these simple topics.

So I leave you and deboard my plane.  My coffee at 9pm, tweeting my arrival while simulatonsly updating my facebook status of the long run that will surely come in the early morning followed by the breakfast for lunch and possible date at the local bar for a couple beers later in the evening.

Because for me-that’s normal.