Some mornings you wake up and the dark grey clouds in the sky, heavy with rain, are not the only clouds in your day.

Even with the greatest of intentions, the questions and doubts and fears in your mind can seem like heavy clouds; difficult to explain to yourself, let alone anyone else who may notice a lack of energy.

You would think after a weekend bursting with sporting energy that motivation would be easy. I found myself full of exhilaration on Saturday, watching the scenes from the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG), where the Western Bulldogs lifted the Australian Rules Football Grand Final after 62 years of waiting.

Then, although from a distance, the closeness of the result in Croke Park, with Dublin winning by just one point – Mayo so close and yet so far away from creating their own slice of history, after 65 years of trying.

The supporters at both finals can take credit in their celebrations, how they cheered their teams, while the losing teams also showed humility in the pain of defeat, walking away heads down, vowing to be back again in 2017.

Jeering crowds

After that came the Ryder Cup rivalry, which appeared from the galleries to be escalating to desperate levels for Team USA, as the European team marched on through jeering crowds. In the end their many combined brilliant efforts weren’t quite good enough to overcome a collectively better American team.

Still there it was on Tuesday morning, when I went to get up, a noticeable lack of energy and motivation. Maybe the highs and lows of the weekend somehow trigger this, and with that the lows in your own mind return from hibernation.

It was like being brought back to what it felt like 20 years ago, how you reacted and how you moved on. But do you really move on, or is there always a lingering ‘what if’, wondering if only I had done something a little bit different, would things have turned out better?

Sometimes opportunities are there and you never get that chance again. You eventually convince yourself that you will, so you go back to the drawing board, start again, thinking that maybe just with a tweak here or there, it would result in a different outcome. But as much as you try to match that one golden opportunity in your life, you never truly get back to reclaim those very close encounters.

Tuesdays were always important days throughout my life as an athlete. I miss that energy and buzz felt after completing a challenging training session. I didn’t realise it at the time, but the boost you get from a tough session wipes everything away from your mind; there is no time for thinking and weighing things up. Your mind and body are simply flooded with endorphins and you can’t help but feel good about yourself.

Now I get up in the morning and sometimes question why I do things. Why do I go to the swimming pool? Why do I go out on the bike for three hours, battling the wind all alone? Why do I crave that indescribable feeling you get after an hour run?

I don’t need to do this, I begin to think. There is no race I’m ever going to do again that really matters, no matter how fast or slow it takes me. It’s not about the race or the time anymore. It’s about finding the energy.

An often unexplained contradiction is that you have to get out and be active, use some energy to get some energy to kick-start your day, put a smile on your face, make everything else that you do for the rest of the day more worthwhile.

If I plan any exercise in the morning, I still lay out my gear the night before. There is less time for procrastination, just acceptance of what lays ahead.

We were back in the pool on Tuesday, a new term of practice, everyone a little apprehensive after a break from regular swimming.

I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with swimming; I prefer to be on the land than in the water, but I know there are times when I can work harder in the pool, get more from a swim than a run.

It’s a constant weighing up of things, convincing myself I will feel so much better on the way home.

As things turned out, I had to ride my bike as transport to the pool, fearful of the dark grey clouds above, what they might unload on me. Then there were also those clouds in my mind, still smothering my thoughts. There was no clear view of why I was riding my bike to the pool.

I arrived early as I came by bike, and had given myself plenty of time. It was cold.

Wandering thoughts

Eventually, we all clambered into the pool and the clouds above burst open, cold rain dropping all around us. Our swim coach Aida, on deck, was marching up and down, dishing out instructions, correcting our form and strokes as we ploughed up and down the pool.

There was no room for wandering thoughts, as the slightest mistake and you were corrected. There was a bit of everything, to bring us all back in line and get ready for the open water swim season, just around the corner. Just like summer, or so we hoped.

As the clock ticked past the hour, and the warm showers were not far away, there was a sense of achievement and contentment that once again I had made the commitment, to challenge myself.

A sense of satisfaction and fulfilment, I could get on with the rest of my day, knowing the answers and no longer asking myself the questions.

As I rode back home and the sun peeked through the clouds I could smile and feel happy with myself. The dark clouds were breaking up and as I enjoyed the wind flowing through my hair I was already thinking about riding my bike to the pool next Tuesday, knowing once more I had caught the Black Line Fever.