I seem to have lost my motivation.
oh where, oh where could it be?
I tried to find it this morning in my favorite little canyon, and I only found a wee bit of it. say, ten percent. the rest is desperately missing, and I would dearly love to rediscover it.
a physician friend told me that it takes twice as long to regain fitness as it does to lose it: so my two-week bout of sloth and laziness has caused me to need four weeks of rebuilding. if this is true, I have another two weeks before I should be back to where I was a month ago, by which time it will have been six weeks. got it?
what this means, I suppose, is that I need to be patient. oh, that word. what this means is that I cannot yet expect to be where I was, or to feel normal, or to be making decisions from a place of complete health and wellness.
can you tell I'm trying to tell myself that it's okay that my motivation is out there somewhere beyond my grasp?
it's okay to still feel less-than, it's okay to be unexcited about strenuous rides, it's okay to want to baby my shoulder a bit, it's okay to be tired.
it's okay to wish I hadn't committed to lotoja.
it's okay to think I canyonot.
it is all okay, and it is all temporary. this is just a phase, one that could probably have been predicted. I will move through it, and move on to some other phase where hopefully my motivation has already escaped to, where it's waiting for me, taking a breather of its own, perhaps even a little nap.