If you haven’t read part 1 yet, better back up a bit. Best to start at the beginning. Find it HERE.

God and fitness…

After walking into the gym AND back into church, I slowly started finding my strength. I was navigating through my emotions. I was taking fear head on and finding my new normal.
I won’t sugar coat it… it sucked. BIG TIME.

It was one of the hardest things I have ever done.

Unless you have experienced it, there is no way to explain the fear and the heartache I faced every time I stepped out of my comfort zone (other wise known as my bedroom, alone and crying).

The fear surrounding grief is no joke. It is unexpected and paralyzing. The pain (as if the fear wasn’t enough) was another story. It was/is incomparable to anything I have EVER experienced. Every inch of my body felt Mac’s death. This pain lived deep within my bones and demanded my attention, throbbing and aching to my very core.

To say my heart was broken doesn’t do this kind of feeling justice. My entire being was broken.

I felt broken and utterly alone.

There I was surrounded by loving and caring family and friends all right there… right in front of me. How could I feel so utterly alone?

But, the thing is there is not one person (no matter how much they love you or you love them) that can pick you up off the floor and figure this out for you. It is a crappy (in my head that is a completely different word) journey we take on our own and, in our own time.

We grieve together.  We heal in our own way.

I had to do this my way.

Enter God and fitness…

As I mentioned in the last blog, for me, these two things were natural. I knew how important fitness was not only for me to have a strong body but, a strong and confident mind to face the rollercoaster of emotions that was now my life. I couldn’t let fear consume me and ultimately keep me from LIVING my life. I didn’t die. My son died. I had the choice to embrace all that my life was now or throw in the towel. I knew without hesitation I needed to get up and start living little by little.

And so it began…

The discomfort (what an understatement!) of putting myself out there and facing the inevitable, walking straight into what I knew would be a difficult road at best.

My first step, get to the gym. My postpartum body was run down, exhausted and in need of healthy movement to slowly build my strength and energy back up. Once I was cleared for exercise I gave myself a pep talk, wiped away tears and drove myself to the local gym. That in itself was exhausting. The first several visits were less about exercise and more about looking fear straight in the eye and telling it to get lost. (I talk a little more about my initial gym moments HERE and give tips on how to start exercising while grieving HERE) Over time, it got a little easier. I could predict (not always) triggers and prepare myself to cope as best as I could. As for those times I didn’t handle it quite as I would have liked… I gave myself grace. I tried hard to remember there were no rules, no one right way of navigating through this. Eventually, it felt like a routine. My feet felt like they were on the ground more times than not. This is when I asked a dear friend to tag along with me to the gym. Those visits were nice for me. I got a good workout in along with sharing laughs with an amazing friend. I needed that. I needed her.

Second step, put God back in the driver seat. I was done with trying to make Him ride shotgun and ignoring His attempt to help guide me. Life is so much easier when the one driving knows the way, right?

This for some reason was a little harder for me. I think in some way I was a little ashamed of how I now needed God so much. I felt like I let Him down a little by not putting Him first before Mac. Walking through the church doors was difficult. I knew I couldn’t do that alone so, I asked a friend to go with me. (Yes, that same amazing friend that went with me to the gym. I can’t tell you how blessed I am to have her in my life then and even now- although we may see each other a little less. She is an unbelievably beautiful woman inside and out. Tears fill my eyes when I think of how much she did for me just b being there. AND this my friends, is a perfect example of how IF we allow it, others can love, support and help us through even our roughest times.) The more I opened my heart to God the more I felt myself healing. Before I knew it, my bones only ached at times and most of the fear I felt was replaced with a strength that could only have been God given.

Over time, I felt stronger and desired to help others feel what I was feeling. I felt a calling. If I could give women just a piece of this newfound clarity and confidence I had…WOW, what an amazing gift I could share.

Enter Health Coaching and Personal Training….