I started Endurance Diaries Podcast with one challenge to myself: Can I enter a process without attaching outcome goals to it? This question was about more than just starting a podcast. It was about how often we measure ourselves by numbers and opinions.

For much of my life, I have been driven by results in sports, school, and work. I am a high-achiever and have always put a lot of pressure on myself to succeed. I don't think that's a bad thing, but it led me to asking the bigger question of what is success?

Could I create something without measuring its worth by performance metrics? Could I stop looking for external validation and just commit to showing up, trusting the process, and allowing it to become whatever it was meant to become?

Before I ever recorded my first episode, I remember sitting at my laptop with about 50 different versions of Endurance Diaries artwork open in Canva. Fonts, colors, graphics, and tiny changes that felt incredibly important at the time. I mean...I am BUILDING A BRAND, right??? 😁

I'll never forget when my husband walked by, looked at my screen, and asked: "So when are you actually going to record?" That question stopped me because I realized I was in the very same performance loop I was trying to escape.

We build a whole audience in our head of who's judging us, and then realize that audience is actually just us.

We imagine people questioning whether we're credible enough, creative enough, or experienced enough. We convince ourselves everyone else is thinking the worst about us, when maybe it's just the story we're telling ourselves.

The belief that before you begin something, you have to have it all figured out. Look good, feel good, play good, right? 💃🏻 Yes...AND...no.

Some of the earliest episodes were recorded sitting on the floor of a closet in our apartment. I would turn my camera on only long enough to show my guests why this was going to be audio-only. I edited in Audacity and uploaded those versions of the podcast.

The early seasons solidified for me that the conversations themselves are the foundation of Endurance Diaries, and my heart behind it has remained the same to this day.

Since 2021, I have had the honor of being joined by professional athletes, CEOs, entrepreneurs, authors, artists, and everyday changemakers. Somewhere along the way, I upgraded to a new recording space (still at home, but now with a surfboard in the background 😎), tapped into video podcasts, and continued learning more about myself and others.

I eventually started receiving messages from people who wanted to join me as guests. My natural response was often (and literally) "I don't know what you think Endurance Diaries is, but it's not a big production."

I was disqualifying myself from something that people were actually drawn to.

I would describe the podcast by saying, "It's just an open space, there's no script, no production team. It's literally just me..." Like I needed to apologize for the very thing that made it unique, the authenticity that made people want to be part of it.

This project started as a challenge to myself to let go of performance pressure, but what I continue to learn is that so many others are navigating the same thing.

We often put people on a pedestal based on what we see from the outside, but when we look beyond the surface, we find the same human experiences: the desire to create, contribute, and succeed...AND...the paradoxical fear of inadequacy, uncertainty, and being fully seen.

Across more than 100 conversations, I have learned that regardless of social or economic status, titles, accomplishments, backgrounds, or industries, the questions we wrestle with are often the same. The people we admire, the stories we celebrate, and the accomplishments we see are often built by individuals who had to overcome the same doubts, fears, and challenges we all navigate.

We convince ourselves we need more experience, resources, proof, or permission. But the only thing required of us to begin is courage.

The voice telling us we can't start is often our own. And the thing we think disqualifies us may be the very thing that allows us to connect with each other in ways we never thought possible.

💌 Ashley

Who's Telling You That You Can't Start?

We build a whole audience in our head of who's judging us, and then realize that audience is actually just us.

I was disqualifying myself from something that people were actually drawn to.

Running into Uncertainty and the Courage to Keep Going