Do you know how many definitions of mojo there are? Loads, but for the purpose of this column I had lost my oomph. The only way I could think of to find my mojo was to put some distance between me and nomojo. So walk I did. Last week I walked longer and much further covering 10-12 miles a day, doing 25,000 steps and burning 1300 to 1800 calories.
On my walks I have listened to Clover Stroud’s My Wild and Sleepless Nights, Matthew Hall’s The Black Art of Killing, Jane Fallon’s Faking Friends on Audible and Spotify playlists of choice and randomness. It’s been bliss. On Monday I thought I would do a shorter walk, a run even! I was so happy to be back in one of the places I ran and missed, but I didn’t feel it so there I was all gear and no idea, in the end I ran and walked just 2 miles.
A few evenings ago I went for a walk in my favourite woods and the sunset was a welcome sight. It’s so weird. Early March I would saunter around in circles on a walk and then dash around on a run not clocking how far I had moved, mid May I am walking in loops and looking out for footpaths and byways counting my steps and getting excited when I see the breakdown on Strava.
Since lockdown I’ve been walking more infact I have now walked 185 miles and by the end of the month I will most definitely have walked the equivalent of walking to Anglesey. Wow. Originally I planned on pretend walking to Crickhowell via Chepstow.
Whilst on my walks that I realise I am fortunate to live near to and am in good health to be able to do, I have noticed how forgiving nature really is with the canopies of leaves over paths and lanes, the scents of plants is strong, the verges don’t look grubby and the colours are sharp and vibrant.