I spent part of last Tuesday morning holding hands with business associates, swaying from side to side, and singing "I Believe I Can Fly." My crutches made the moment even more poignant.

I felt like a disabled man at a revival meeting, poised to throw my crutches to the ground and walk toward the motivational speaker who got us to do all this in the first place. This networking event was one of the few I've been to since I broke my heel a few weeks ago. I could have done without it, though it was kind of neat seeing everyone dance around the room in suits.

It was a bit much. I've always hated role-playing and being forced to talk about very personal things -- especially with business associates -- under the premise that you'll understand yourself and the way you run your business better. There's a certain artificial quality about this sort of thing.

It was the beginning of a very busy week, capped Friday by an all-day trade show where I stood on one leg for hours, explaining to human-resource managers what my company could do for them. By nightfall, I was physically and emotionally spent, something entrepreneurs shouldn't be if they are to continue the following day.

Normally, I would be in the office Saturday, taking care of paperwork and preparing for the coming week, but since my accident I've cut my schedule back to five days at the office. It feels strange after being accustomed to seven. Mondays actually feel like Mondays, and I don't like it. I'm losing momentum. I had a boss at my old newspaper, Newsday, who used to say: "That's why you should never take a vacation. You come back, and you're dragging." Actually, I need one. I just don't know how to relax.

Since humans discovered they could sell their services, mankind has been looking for ways to stay motivated and focused. Companies used to send employees to camp, where teams climbed hills or fell in mud to learn the value of teamwork. In reality, on returning to the office, everyone was motivated for about an hour. Then routine set in.

More contemporary techniques include pumping a sales team up with incentives, stock options, or even 20 seconds in a money booth where $5 and $10 bills swirl around them, driven by a gush of air.

Many things keep me motivated. Singing "I Believe I Can Fly" in a human chain isn't one of them. Receiving a check for services delivered keeps me pretty motivated, but that's not the only thing that keeps me going.

Running a small business is like running a marathon. You should train for it, keep going when you feel wiped out, don't count the miles, and stay focused. Before I ran my first marathon last October I wanted to know why people put themselves through hell just to cross a finish line. The answer was apparent after I crossed one. It's an extremely personal accomplishment that has nothing to do with physical endurance and everything to do with determination. Motivation, like running 26 miles, is all in your head. It's there for you to lose.

George Giokas is the president and CEO of StaffWriters Plus, a specialty agency that places writers in temporary and permanent positions with corporate and other employers. It also provides editorial consulting work. His database includes 2,500 writers and editors specializing in more than 60 categories. His Web site is located at www.staffwriters.com, and you can E-mail him at george@staffwriters.com.