Last week marked eight months since my mother passed away.

Eight months of truly learning how to live without her. Eight months of walking through the door wanting to call her. It really feels like time just moves forward and I haven’t quite caught up.

The world just feels so still sometimes. I’ve been moving through a haze, not entirely lost, still showing up, working and functioning day to day, but I feel stuck in a lull. Without a major goal. Without her.

Grief has a way of somewhat shutting down everything you once saw so clearly. It has a way of blurring your sense of direction, shutting down your drive and extinguishing your spark.

I’ve always been someone with a mission, especially with training. I know how to dig deep and get things done. But over the past few years, with Covid, my brain tumour, my mom’s sickness and multiple trips overseas to visit her in hospital, I’ve felt more like I’m drifting. Numb in the places where I felt so much purpose.

That’s why I’ve decided to do something challenging. Something difficult. Something that makes me sweat, ache, and feel again.

I’ve signed up for Hyrox Boston on September 28. I’m giving myself eight weeks to train – physically, mentally, and emotionally. Hyrox fitness races take place globally and combine running with functional workouts. I’m usually focused on beating someone, anyone in the race. This isn’t about winning. It’s about moving forward and reclaiming my power.

I’ve never taken myself through competitive training. In the past, I’ve always had a coach. This time, it’s all on me. My body, my ideas, my research, my discipline. It’s raw and real and, honestly, a little terrifying — but also incredibly empowering.

I chose Hyrox because it’s literally crazy! It demands grit, stamina, mental toughness, and resilience — the very qualities I feel I’ve been fighting to rediscover since losing my mom. This journey is about more than fitness. It’s about piecing together a version of myself that can carry pain and sorrow along with strength.

I’ve started week three of my training and I’m hoping to develop structure and something solid to hold on to as I navigate and move forward. I believe this experience will allow me to channel my grief, test my strength and create a pathway to peace.

I want to feel my lungs burn, my legs tremble as I walk up the 16 stairs that lead to my front door, and my spirit light up again. I want to know that even during times of mourning, there can be momentum. Even in pain, there can be purpose.

My mother’s strength and determination will always live in me and I would have made her proud, not just by finishing the race, but by refusing to stay stuck in the dark.

I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for clarity. For the courage to show up, day after day, just for me.

So here’s to the remaining training days. To healing through movement. To honouring loss through sweat and determination. And to finding a new kind of peace — not in forgetting but in remembering her, mile by mile, rep by rep.

Hope to see you in Boston.

• Betty Doyling is a certified fitness trainer and figure competitor with more than a decade of experience. Look for B. ActiveForLife on Facebook