In search of mojo.

My running mojo specifically.

I’ve got other kinds of joy, inspiration, drive. In spades. Life is good. 🙂 But my running mojo seems to be on an extended hiatus…

I’m missing her.

Time to admit that I am {temporarily} burned out on running.

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I’m kind of an all-or-nothing girl at times. My history would indicate a preferred path of eradication, not moderation. 🙂 And this time I wanted to do things different. I want to find some solid, middle ground around being active even if it doesn’t include running.

You know — maybe be ‘adult’ about it and find a non-running path for now and not over-react. 🙂

And since I want to be that sassy, feisty, fit 90-year-old who still runs and whoops your ass in the gym, this really does take a LONG-range view, not a knee-jerk reaction or sinking into apathy.

The thought of setting running to the side scares me shitless because at my core there is something I deeply love about it. The beautiful reality is that I truly do love it enough to NOT handle it carelessly like I might other things at other times in my life.

I needed a plan.

My current ‘healthy path’ plan…? Get fit and re-energized around being active. Period.  I do not have a single race booked for the year and I do not plan to run an ultra this year. I do plan to swim and bike and lift weights and go to social/cardio classes with friends and run some shorter/fun races/adventures. Oh – maybe do some snowshoeing or rock climbing or hiking or skiing.

ALL THE THINGS. 🙂

I want to be in good enough shape to just go and do ALL the things at any time.

Those are my goals this year.

They feel damn good and exciting.

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I know exactly when and where my mojo went missing. Fall of 2016 I ran Mountain Lakes 100. 18 months ago. Training for a 100 miler is intense to say the least. I finished the race fueled by solid training and a dose of stark {and appropriate} terror. I now know I am strong and brave and capable of some pretty fantastic and amazing things.

Eighteen months later I FINALLY realize that Mountain Lakes 100 gave me this incredible gift of believing in myself.

But the event that gave me incredible confidence, also kind of broke my running mojo.

Fair trade off if you ask me.

MONTHS of hindsight needed to arrive at this conclusion. But honestly? Temporarily busted mojo VS. BELIEVE, and know in your heart, you can do unimaginable things?

Fair trade off.

A trade off I will make again, again and again.

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I spent the last year attempting two 100 mile races. (Zion and Rio Del Lago) Was not able to finish either. Dropped out at 75 and 76 miles. We can talk about training, weather, fueling, terrain, mental state, race conditions – even the reasons I was facing when I made those decisions such as blistered feet/asthma/cramping… These are huge beasts of a race. A ton of things can go wrong. Correction. A ton of things will go wrong. Your training is about learning what to do and how to adapt when those things go wrong.

All things considered I believe that the main reason I did not finish either race in 2017 came down to one simple fact: My heart was not in it.  My mojo was gone.

People who run these huge distances will tell you that there is a whole bunch of training, some luck and a slew of other factors that account for being able to accomplish these races. Some of the more mature and experienced ultrarunners will also tell you, when you dig deeper in conversation with them, that the magic ingredient they have witnessed time and again is; heart.  Not legs, not training, not shoes or gear. All important.  But often the magic is heart, desire, deep longing to get out there and test themselves at any cost.

My heart just wasn’t in it this past year.

I spent all of last year pretending REALLY HARD and trying to blindly convince myself that if I simply hung in/put in the training/went through the motions – my mojo would return. My heart would be in it.  I never gave up on trying to chase these suckers down. I stayed in the routine of activity. I ran my workouts. I worked on fitness and mental toughness. I set and chased goals. I learned a ton. Even though my heart wasn’t entirely in it I stayed with the habit.

I never gave up.

I just never gave it my whole heart.

I own and understand that distinction.

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Basically since last November I finally realized my running mojo had taken a hike. Not sad. Not scared. Just curious when it might come back. Can I do something to get it back? What to do until it comes back.

I remember early in this fitness journey. I was talking to Spencer and he was brand-new as my running coach. I remember him asking me what I was so afraid of. I didn’t realize I was telegraphing fear, was a little taken aback at being directly called out. I eventually told him I was afraid I would wake-up one morning and my love and desire for running would be gone. That would be DISASTER.  It would mean I would instantly, certainly, gain all of the weight back and become type 2 diabetic again. Over night. Catastrophically. Of everything that could happen that’s what I was most afraid of.

I was so busy all these years to keep it in a careful, tight choke-hold so it couldn’t wander away, I didn’t realize I was killing it…

One morning last Fall I woke up and realized she really was good and gone. Until last week, I kept going through the motions of lacing up my shoes and going for a run, hoping she would re-appear. No luck so far. But I slowly realized my desire to stay firmly planted in my new healthy life was alive and kicking and didn’t care that running was out of the mix for the moment.  I wanted to move, stay connected and keep getting fit and strong; even if I wasn’t running.  So that very thing I feared deeply happened.  But the story I told myself about how that fear would result in total disaster did NOT happen.

Fascinating.  Liberating.  A lesson to remember about the stories we tell ourselves. About the stories we choose to believe.

So I’m not going to chase my mojo down right now. I’ll let my running mojo return when she’s good and ready. I’ll wait patiently, filling my time with a ton of other activities, learning some new skills (swimming!) and testing new boundaries.

And I’ll welcome her back with open arms.

And this time around I won’t put her in a stranglehold.

It’ll be a partnership and a friendship and the weight of my world won’t be solely on her shoulders.

What do you do when your mojo takes a hike?