There is a particular kind of anticipation that lives in the weeks before this “Best of the Best” issue goes to print. It is hopeful, electric, a little bit like waiting for your name to be called in a room where you are pretending not to care if your name is called.
And then, of course, the reality of it settles in.
Ninety-five categories. Hundreds of businesses. Tens of thousands of votes. And while there is celebration at the top—which is real and deserved and joyful—there is also something we don’t talk about quite as much: the almost. The runner-up. The finalist. The “so close we could practically taste it” place in the lineup.
If we’re being honest, most of life lives there. Not in the winning moment, but in the nearly. The “we came in second but also we showed up every single day and kept the doors open and served the food and answered the phones and made it work anyway” reality that doesn’t always come with a plaque.
And I want to say this clearly, because it matters: being nominated is not nothing. It is recognition. It is visibility. It is someone, somewhere, taking the time to say your work mattered to them. But I also think it’s okay to acknowledge the other feeling that comes with it—disappointment.
We don’t need to sanitize that. It’s human.
The truth is, half the people listed on these pages will not see their name at the very top. That’s just math. But what the math doesn’t capture is everything underneath it.
The restaurant that came in second but still fed half the neighborhood through a chaotic year. The stylist who didn’t win but has held more life stories in their chair than most therapists hear in a week. The gym that didn’t take first place but became the place someone rebuilt themselves after loss. The business owner who didn’t win the category but kept showing up when showing up was the hardest thing they did all week.
Those stories don’t disappear just because there’s a number next to a name.
And maybe that’s the real story of this issue: Not just who won. But who kept going.Because “almost” is not failure. It is proof that people are paying attention. It is a reminder that excellence is not a single moment at the top of a list—it is the accumulation of days that most people never see.
So yes, we will celebrate the winners. Loudly. Joyfully. Fully.
But let’s also raise a glass to the almost. After all, you don’t have to finish first to belong among the best. Bravo, friends. Bravo.
Heather Anne Lee
Editor
