There are times when I do not like my job… at all. In fact, in those moments, it causes me to question if I should continue health coaching at all. Recently, I have been taking a lot of time reflecting on why this is and what I can do about changing it.

Let’s back up to where it all began for a moment.

My passion or (as I truly feel), my purpose, started after the loss of my son, Mac. I grew up active, eating healthy and for the most part had health focused mindset my entire life. I may not have measured my macros or knew my calorie content for each meal. However, I did eat home cooked meals with whole foods, many from our garden or local gardens/farms. I was active throughout my childhood and continued this habit past high school were I was introduced to weight lifting.

My life before Mac was healthy. I had strong and consistent habits in place long before his death. I credit these habits to be one of the big reasons why knowing fitness and nutrition was a place I could turn to after his loss.

Now, having these habits in place might have made it a smidge easier for me in terms of me knowing how much I could benefit from exercise and eating right. BUT, it was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. I talk a little about this in my blog HERE. I mention how when I would first go to the gym I would cry within minutes of being on the elliptical, hop off, collect my membership card (sobbing, unable to respond to the “have a nice day” from the front desk person), hop in my car and drive home. What I found was the more I went, the easier it became. Eventually, I made it a few minutes on the elliptical without tears. Over time, I was having genuine conversations in the gym and sometimes laughing.

My original goal (after Mac) was simply not allowing myself to sit in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself. I wanted to be me again. Most of all, I wanted to be a mom to Hagen and Suzie. I hadn’t been.

When you experience a loss like this, you entire world, as you know it changes. It doesn’t just change slowly and over months. It changes abruptly and faster than you have time to realize. One moment is all it takes to rip all that you know into tiny little pieces, never to be put back together again. I think this was (still is) one of the hardest parts of Mac’s loss. How do you go on after this kind of loss? What is normal now? Will I always be afraid of going into public? Will I always cry this much? What if I run into someone that knew I was pregnant and they ask about Mac, not knowing he died? Will the fear of someone asking how many children I have always be there? How do I laugh without feeling guilty because my son isn’t here to giggle with me? Will I ever be able to sit and watch Hagen and Suzie play without being consumed with thoughts of what Mac would be doing if he were here?

All of questions (worries) and SO many more were consuming me. I knew if I wanted to be “healthy” mind, body and heart; I needed to do something. This is when I turned to two things: God (because let’s face it, He is he only thing that can truly heal my heart) and fitness. Kinda funny, isn’t it. God and fitness…

For me, it was the natural answer.

Continue reading…. Part 2 (God and fitness).