I wish I understood motivation. I wish I understood where it went. I wish I understood how to generate it.
While chatting with a friend this morning about how long it’s been since I did any archery, I worked out that it was just over 9 months ago, in late September 2008. The same evening that I screwed up my arm.
Truth be told, the main reason I’ve not shot since then is fear of repeating that excruciating pain, and the long, slow physiotherapy process required to simply have a normal arm again. As mentioned in my New Year post, I think compound might be an option, and I’m planning on trying one out tomorrow. More to follow on this.
I then looked at the time I blogged about archery prior to that date and it was October 2007 — back when I was going to the gym 3 times a week, running 3 times a week, and doing archery 2 times a week. I was a calorie-burning and weight-loss machine, burning 3,000-4,000 calories a week on exercise alone, who was spending most of his spare time being active. I’d dropped from 118kg to 106kg and felt fantastic, culminating in the 5km Santa’s fun run.
Now 21 months on I’m worse off and heavier than I was back then, simply because I’ve lost the motivation to just get out there and do it. My running shoes are constantly calling out to me, my pushbike eyes me malevolently whenever I’m in the garage, and my bank statement proudly displays my wasted monthly gym payment, so I know I need to get back into the groove.
I know it’ll happen eventually — it’s how I’m wired. I just wish I knew why motivation ebbs and flows like this.
