I’ve finally recognized a pattern that’s emerged after months of heavy travel to events across the country. Part of my job – and a part I dearly love – is to be on the road, participating in all kinds of social media, marketing, PR and new media events to meet and connect with the Radian6 community.

I love it because I enjoy meeting people, and I don’t think the internet can replace the intimacy of meeting people in person. And the proof of that to me has become the crash that happens after the event, a crash I’m now understanding is actually quite common amongst people who frequent the event circuit.

When you’re at a conference, you’re surrounded by people nearly all the time. From the moment sessions start early in the morning (or even breakfast meetings before) to the social events afterward, you’re continually chatting, mingling, socializing and connecting with people.  And by the time you’re finished, you’re usually too exhausted to do anything but fall face down in your puffy hotel room bed, wake up bleary eyed, and do it all over again for a day or two more.

There’s an adrenaline rush that comes with moving at that pace. Your brain is constantly engaged, you’re either listening or being listened to, and relationships are being forged at every turn. You’re “on” more often than not, and cramming lots of activity into a short timeframe.

Then the event ends. You pack up, scramble to the airport, and at long last sink into the airplane seat or car on your way home. For me, I tend to come home to a relatively quiet house with my dogs and, eventually, my toddler. And something strange happens. I get sad.

The abrupt change of pace – from frenetic to normal or even relaxed – can be jarring. For me, I get a bit of withdrawal and find myself searching for connections with people all over again from the remoteness of my office. Jumping on Twitter to say hello to friends I just left, relishing emails from people for ideas we had on the road to move them along. It’s almost as if I need reassurance that people haven’t forgotten about me now that there’s geographic distance between us.

Strange, huh? (Or maybe not).

What it’s reinforcing for me is the reason I do all this travel in the first place: there is NO substitute for in person, face-to-face human interaction. None. All the online profiles, tweets, and facebook messages in the world cannot replicate the subtleties and nuances of chatting with someone in person. And when it comes down to it, the social web may give us a pile of online icebreakers and head starts into real world relationships, but we as humans need – even crave –  interaction in the same physical space.

I enjoy  my quiet moments like anyone else, even relish the peace of my back deck on a sunny afternoon when there’s not a soul around. But I’m encouraged to know that for as digital as my world has become, I still want and need to see your faces, hear your voices, and know that the connections we’ve made are as real in the flesh as they are on the interwebs.

So thanks for reading this introspective, personal post that’s a bit of a departure from my norm. But know that it tells me just how important you all are, and how much I’ll look forward to the next time – or first time – our paths will cross in a new city very soon.