WANTED: Mojo

Why do I do this? Why do I do this?

That question scrolled through my mind yesterday as I rounded my familiar six-and-a-half mile loop.

Why do I do this? Why do I do this?

I've used this blog of document many of the ideological, pie-in-the-sky reasons that I run. Running keeps me sane, it helps me be a better me, it keeps me healthy and helps me appreciate my physical abilities.

The list goes on and on.

But yesterday my question was much more basic. Why, exactly, do I run? Because, after all, I'm sure there are other outlets that would achieve those things I listed above. Right?

Why do I run?

Surprisingly, I don't think I've ever really thought about it before now. Running was something that just sorta happened. To help you understand where this most fundamental question was coming from yesterday, let me paint a picture for you.

The crisp fall air was blowing, and the leaves crackled beneath my feet. The sun was bright and the sky was blue. The leaves, unfortunately, were just a bit past peak. Otherwise, it would have been a quintessential fall New England day - the kind of day they make postcards out of.

It was cool enough that I didn't wear shorts (although I could have), but not as cold as to force me to bundle up in a jacket or gloves or a hat. My capri running pants and a long-sleeved shirt suited the day's weather just fine.

Simply, it was a near-perfect running day.

I should have be itching at the chance to get outside and run. That's right, I said should have. Truth is, I wasn't much in the running mood yesterday. But I knew I'd regret a decision not to run, so I laced up my sneakers and headed out. I needed the miles.

It used to be that I'd be excited at the possibility of running on a fall day - that tiny window us New Englanders have between the hot, humid days of summer and the long, harsh, dark winter runs.

Why wasn't I excited, I asked myself. Usually, once I step outside and get moving, I'm instantly reminded. Not yesterday. With each step, I continued to question why I was out there. No one was making me do it.

My running seemed harder than usual. I felt awkward and uncoordinated. It was like my body was fighting me. My arms moved strangely by my sides and I couldn't quite find a comfortable position for them.

That runner's high? No where in sight.

This wasn't the first run like this, either. It seems like the miles I've put in lately haven't come easily. Sure, I get them done, but they're just harder than usual.

No longer do I come back refreshed and energized. No longer am I feeling a rush of I-can-do-anything.

I don't just mean mentally hard; they're actually physically harder than usual, too. At times yesterday, I struggled up the slightest hills and even, gasp, stopped for some walk breaks. I even contemplated cutting the run shorts a few times.

It seems that I've entirely lost my mojo.

I posted a few thoughts on Dailymile following my run and the advice started - take a break, cross train, find a buddy, wait it out, find what motivates me, train for a race. All good advice from people who've probably experienced the same thing.

I know my less-than-enthusiastic attitude is only temporary. I know I'll find that spark again. I know I'll find something that will re-energize and focus me.

Until then, I'll keep running - because I'm pretty sure that mojo isn't going to come knocking on my door. I have to go out and find it.