My mojo is gone. It’s springtime, the weather is fine, and I don’t have my mojo. I’ve looked under every rock, in every nook and cranny of my being, and it’s no where to be found. It’s a good thing I’ve lost it before, at least I know it will come back when the time is right.
In the meantime, though, what to do? I’m a morning runner. Daylight savings time hits my morning runs hard. It’s not daylight until 7 am, and I need to be in the shower by then. Getting out of my nice, warm bed when it’s still dark and cold seems like entirely too much effort. I can do dark, or I can do cold, no way can I do them both. Pollen has coated every visible surface, as well as the interior linings of my eyes and nose. The last few weeks, I’ve eaten as though I wouldn’t be alive much longer, with chocolate, bread, and key lime pie high on the hit parade. Unfortunately, for me, those high carb foods deliver a short burst of energy, then are followed by extreme lethargy. From which I can’t seem to escape.
I visited with a good friend today, a fellow runner, who boosted my spirits and reminded me that this is only a season. I’ve been a runner long enough to know that’s true, but it’s still scary when it happens. I have to constantly remind myself to get over myself. It’s time to just do it. To just lace up and slap the pavement. Seems impossible right now. I know I’ll have to dig deep for it, deeper than I’ve had to dig in a while. But, failure is not an option.
What causes these seasons? Is it working too hard or not working hard enough, eating too much or not eating enough, dreaming too big or not dreaming enough? Sometimes, it’s an event, like a bad race or training run, but more often, I think it just happens. It happens for every reason and it happens for no reason. For no reason that we can identify, suddenly our running routine is no more. When we run, it feels like we are carrying an extra person on our backs though quick sand. Formerly fast miles become excruciatingly slow, and anticipation for a run becomes stomach churning dread. We begin to doubt ourselves, question why we’re doing this, wondering if we really can. We try to remember what a good run felt like, but can’t dredge up the memory of one.
So, do we quit or take up a new sport? Not on your life. It’s times like these that separate the runners from the wannabes. I might be a wannabe when it comes to a lot of things, but I’m a runner deep in my soul. Giving up is not in my playbook. And, I haven’t conquered this sport yet, I can’t possibly take on a new one.
Hopefully, when I post again, it will be after a wonderfully refreshing run that reminds me of all that I love about running. That’s what I’m going to focus on as I lace up and head out in the morning. The quiet of the morning, the beauty of the day, the strength of my legs as they carry me, the wonderful friends I’ve made through running, the quality time I’m able to spend with God as I run. Those are the things that keep me coming back to the running well again and again. And, I know that if I just keep moving, I’ll find my mojo at that well, waiting for me to pick it up, put it on, and go for a run.