What happens when you show up anyway

Saturday morning, 8 AM. It's a crisp autumn morning, and you're sitting in your car in the parking lot of a coffee shop.

The engine is off. Your hand is on the door handle. But you're not moving yet.

Inside, there are people gathering. Strangers who woke up early to walk 5 miles together and talk about real things. You saw the event online. You RSVP'd. You told yourself you'd go.

But now that you're here, the doubt creeps in.

What if I don't fit in? What if I'm awkward? What if I don't know what to say? What if everyone already knows each other and I'm the only new person standing there alone?

You've felt this before: that familiar tightness in your chest that comes with putting yourself out there. Social anxiety. Nervousness. That voice that says maybe I should just go home.

You could. You could turn the car back on and drive away. No one would know. No one would judge you.

But something made you drive here this morning. Some small, persistent part of you that wants connection. That's tired of surface-level conversations. That wonders if maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who want to talk about real things too.

So you take a breath. You open the car door. You show up anyway.

That person in the car? That's Lincoln's story.

Lincoln discovered The Board Walks on Twitter. He read the posts. He saw the testimonials. He thought this is exactly what I need.

Lincoln is a major introvert. And for years, a quiet hum of social anxiety kept him from finding the very thing he craved most: connection. Deep conversations. Real relationships.

He wanted to go to the walks. He really did.

But week after week, he chickened out.

The fear was too big. The what-ifs too loud. For weeks, he watched from the sidelines. Reading posts. Seeing photos. Imagining what it might be like. But never quite making it there.

Until finally, he did.

Lincoln showed up to his first walk. And then he came back. And then he came back again.

Three walks in a row.

In those walks, Lincoln had over 30 conversations. Thirty! He connected with amazing people on a deep level. He had experiences he genuinely didn't think were possible for someone like him: an introvert who'd spent weeks talking himself out of joining.

Something shifted in Lincoln. He started feeling more comfortable engaging with new people. More confident carrying conversations. More willing to put himself out there.

"My comfort zone?" Lincoln said. "I keep escaping it. And it feels AWESOME."

Someone who'd spent weeks "chickening out" now talks about escaping his comfort zone with excitement. With joy. With this sense of disbelief at what's become possible.

Lincoln didn't just find a weekly walk. He found proof that his fears were lying to him. That connection doesn't have to be as hard as social anxiety told him it would be. That there are people out there waiting to meet him all along.

All he had to do was show up.

And here’s the best part: Lincoln's story isn't unique.

Megan showed up to her first walk feeling intimidated by social situations. Her favorite memory from that walk? Learning that she wasn't the only person who felt that way. She left feeling more confident and empowered.

John had lived in multiple cities and struggled to find community everywhere he went. He came to the walks with low expectations. It was the most welcomed he'd felt in a long time.

Arth arrived with a list of pre-prepared topics, convinced he needed to perform to be accepted. He discovered he could just be himself.

Connor struggled for months in Baltimore trying to make friends. The walks gave him a sense of belonging he'd been searching for.

Everyone shows up nervous. Everyone wonders if they'll fit in. And everyone who shows up anyway discovers the same thing: real connection is possible in the right environment.

What makes showing up worth it? What happens in this space that makes the fear dissolve?

It's the conditions. Curiosity, kindness, and open-mindedness become the baseline.

No one cares about your job title or how impressive you sound. The performance pressure just... disappears.

You're walking, which changes everything. Your body is moving. You're side by side instead of face-to-face. It feels less intense, more natural.

And the questions people ask? They're real. What nourishes you? What would you tell your younger self? How do you know your limits?

Somewhere around mile three, something shifts. You stop seeing strangers and start seeing yourself reflected in the person walking next to you. Their fears, their hopes, their humanity. It's all familiar. It's all you.

The nervousness doesn't disappear because the walks put everyone in a magic bubble.

It disappears because you remember: connection is what we're built for.

If Lincoln's story resonates with you, if you've ever sat in that car wondering whether to go in... your first walk is waiting.

We walk every Saturday morning in cities around the world. Join us here.

Maybe you'll stay home this week. Maybe next week too. That's okay.

But when you're ready to open that car door and show up anyway, we'll be here.