My Motivation Malaise
How can a body so at rest feel so unrested?
Back in late December, when I was young, naïve, and optimistic about the promise of a new year, I signed up for the Five Boro Bike Tour — a 40-mile bike ride that travels through all five boroughs of New York City.
How fun!, I thought. What a great opportunity to get in shape, get outside, maybe (hopefully!) meet some new people as I get to know the city.
I tasked Claude with developing my training program, focusing first on indoor Peloton rides, then transitioning to longer outdoor rides to prepare me for the real thing. Claude was optimistic and even excited for me (aw, my AI bestie!), noting that I had four-plus months to get my act together, build mileage, and prepare to complete a stellar ride.
Well, my friends, the race was on Sunday, May 3. How do you think I did?
I … did not.
Even with my grand ambitions and sufficient time to train and get in shape, I could not muster the motivation. In fact, since that optimistic day back in December, I have done … five Peloton rides.
Not five a week. Not five a month.
Five. TOTAL.
So basically, averaging barely over one ride a month.
While I am well aware that I have been known to have grand ambitions for races and other physical competitions that I don’t follow through on (remember when I thought I was going to do a triathlon? lolol), I thought this Five Boro Ride would be an easy one. It is a ride, not a race. I had time to get my cycling legs back. So much time! So many people told me they had done the ride without really training, and it was fine. IT WAS FINE.
But since moving back to New York six months ago, and honestly, since starting my current job back in August, my motivation levels have been nonexistent. At first, it was easy to write it off due to the stresses of commuting between DC and NYC for the job … packing and preparing to move (again) … moving … unpacking and settling in … the holidays … the coldness and darkness … losing and grieving my cat, Dash … more coldness and darkness … the list of my excuses goes on.
I just can’t figure out how to find any motivation, much less momentum. The lack of motivation extends beyond just exercise and physical fitness. (I mean, the bike ride was on May 3, and it has taken until May 13 to write and publish this!). I have done absolutely nothing to meet new people and find new communities since returning to NYC (where I knew no one and had zero communities the last time I lived here, although the circumstances back then were very different). My exploration of the city has been minimal. It takes everything in my power just to get up each day and do my job … weekends are devoted to recovering from the work week and trying to conserve enough energy to start over again on Monday morning.
I’m not sure if this is yet another thing I can write off to perimenopause, given everything from a sore toenail to an utter emotional breakdown can be attributed to being a woman of a certain age. Maybe doing my fifth cross-country-ish move in six years (yeah, I’m including NYC to DC and back to NYC as cross-country) has taken a toll on me, and I’m being forced to recover from it all.
It’s important to note that I am not depressed. I am not lonely, even though I do want to broaden my social circle and communities. I am not sad. I’m just … emotionally exhausted. Overwhelmed by the challenges of always operating in survival mode. Physically spent. Probably also completely over the sorry state of this country and the shame and disbelief of watching us descend into fascism, but I digress.
I am well aware that a body at rest stays at rest, and a body in motion stays in motion (or whatever Sir Isaac Newton tried to teach us). But how can a body so at rest feel so unrested? I mean, how long do I really need to recover from six years of chaos?
I’m hoping now that the weather in NYC is getting warmer, and daylight is lingering later and later, the spring and summer seasons will light a spark in my motivation to do … well, anything. I’m not saying I need to complete a 40-mile bike ride, or do daily Peloton rides, or hit every museum in Manhattan. I just want to have the motivation to get my ass out of the apartment to check out something new. To be energized by the city and the sights and everything that NYC has to offer. To be inspired to do something new on the regular.
Even putting one foot in front of the other starts with that first step. It’s just overwhelming and intimidating to acknowledge that I’m the only one who can take it.
While Grammarly was used to improve the writing of this post, AI was not used for content creation.