If anyone has seen my running mojo please have it call or come home. It got lost in the past few weeks and I really miss it.
My mojo left. I think it might have gotten packed up with the marathon baracades and signs. I have not seen it since the marathon. I really wonder if it was misplaced in the suitcase of one of my BRF (best running friends) that were in from out of town. I’m not sure where it went. Perhaps it just ran away? I don’t know.
I have been out searching since the week after the marathon. A couple times I week I lace up my shoes and go out looking. I look high and low and sometimes take the dog hoping she can help me sniff it out. Nothing. I got nothing. I miss my mojo. I could always count on it when things were good or bad. It was always there to get me through. The feelings of anger, impatience, frustration have taken over my life. I miss the feelings of joy, accomplishment a peace that my mojo provides.
Yesterday I decided to go look again in the one place I had not checked….my trail.
I woke up late and missed my usual group but I saw this as a blessing in disguise. I needed time to look on my own before asking for help.
I took off and headed down the trial by myself. It was pretty deserted. Not many people use the trail as it gets colder. I relished the emptiness as it mirrored my running soul. I took no Garmin. No anything. I wanted to devote my attention to the hunt. It was liberating not to have to keep a set pace for others, to run at a pace that was good only for me. To walk when I chose. Speed up and slow down when I felt like it. No one depending on me for answers. I was on my own. Without even my mojo to keep me company and I began to search.
After the first 3 miles, I had pretty much given up the hunt. Even the deer on the path were not paying attention to me. My path knows me better than anyone. It has been there for the good runs, bad runs, hot runs, cold runs, crappy runs. It has allowed me to work through my problems and help me find the answers. It has been there through sadness and elation. My trail is the home and my running group, my family.
I decided to look a bit further along the trail so continued my run and it was then that I thought I heard something rustle in the trees. Crazy! There was no one there. Just the wind. But something made me continue running.
Shortly before I turned around to head home I saw Wanda. She was taunting me. She was teasing me like a big bully. If there is one thing I hate (yup. Hate. Strong word, but I hate bullies) it is a bully. She was there just begging me to try and fail. I was having none of it. Instead of turning around to head back I turned, threw my shoulders back and charged up that bridge. Halfway up I thought I heard a voice say “hills make you stronger” I shook my head and looked around. No one there. What the heck?! I was losing my mind!
I continued up and over the bridge and to a point I felt that was far enough. I headed back. Up and over the big bully Wanda a second time. She was not getting the best of me today. I may not have my mojo but I did value my dignity. I still had my Pride.
I continued on towards my truck and felt as if I was being watched… No, followed. I turned to look and was completly alone on the trail. Good Lord. I really was losing my mind.
As I entered a clearing I thought I saw a shadow next to mine. I swore I saw it and I stopped this time totally turning around. I was still alone. There was a biker about a half mile up but no one close enough to leave a shadow. Now I was really getting a little creeped out and wanted to be done with this run.
About 1.5 miles from the car I saw another runner from our group. I really enjoy running with her but she is group leader for a faster pace group and we only run together on the off season. She is older than me and of a different faith. She teaches me something new every time we are together and I treasure out time together. She was going the other direction so I thought we would wave and continue on in opposite directions.
But she stopped and asked if I minded company on the way back. She was tired and didn’t want to go on alone. So off we went together.
We chatted for a bit and soon I could no longer talk. She was going so fast. I could not keep up. I stopped at the next intersection and told her to go on. She was too fast for me. She laughed and and said it was me that was driving the pace and she could not keep up! It was then that I realized that there were three of us ..my mojo had joined us and was the one that driving the pace! So we decided to slow it down a bit but finish strong. It was the most glorious, energizing mile of my run. I needed it so badly. My mojo was right there pushing us to keep going and finish. And finish we did, thanking each other for pushing one another to a great finish.
What I realized was my mojo was never lost. It was me who got lost. I needed to find my way home. Home to where my path, my group and mojo were all there waiting for me with open arms.