I don’t know quite when my running mojo disappeared. It crept off silently, without even the courtesy of a ‘goodbye’.
One day I loved my running, the next I was struggling to get motivated to run. I would have been nice to be able to say to my running mojo, ‘OK let’s have a brief break and get reunited soon’ but it didn’t give me a chance: it just slinked off without me noticing.
Yes there’s been a lot of other stuff going on in my life recently: working hard in my copywriting business, launching a new small business coaching business, the death of my Aunty Joyce, a family holiday abroad for the first time in what feels like forever and a really stupid injury to my foot at a waterpark whilst on said holiday. Yet at the back of my mind was the fact I have the Chester Marathon on the 5th October and I need to train.
My training plan has given me structure, although it lapsed somewhat whilst away on holiday. But I’ve been feeling that I’m just going through the motions, doing the workouts prescribed but definitely not loving the running. I just felt flat.
Sunday morning I had 16 miles to run according to the plan and it looked like I was going to have some company in the form of the remnants of Hurricane Bertha. Every time I’ve looked at this in the last few days my heart has sank, ‘How am I going to get through that?’ especially as I’d skipped last week’s 15 miler as frankly I just couldn’t be arsed, although having to be out the door and running by 6:15am whilst I’m away on holiday might have had something to do with that.
Externally I might have been, ‘Come on Bertha: you, me and 16 miles!’ but internally it was more like, ‘I don’t want to go out. Whose stupid idea was it to run an Autumn marathon? What jacket shall I wear, I want to stay dry but not get too hot?’
As always, I kept reminding myself that the first step out the door is the hardest. ‘Come on girl, you can do, just run, don’t worry about the pace.’ So off I went.
I plodded along at a leisurely 9:30 min/mile pace in the, and at times torrential, rain. Then suddenly a random thought popped into my head around 1.5 miles in, ‘I’m enjoying this.’ Suddenly I found myself deliberately running though the puddles and smiling.
I met up with my clubmates, the David Lloyd Redway Runners, after I’d done four miles. As we left the rain suddenly got heavier, and heavier. Running down a road in the torrential downpour I had a sudden urge to pretend I was an aeroplane and stick my arms out to the side, so I did. I giggled out loud to myself the whole way down that road despite looking like a drowned animal impersonating a plane.
Oh hang on… something’s happening… what’s that? I think it’s my mojo coming back!
Until next time…