March Madness has entered the chat. Commitment to more classes. No excuses in the kitchen. Coaches dishing out more intense sessions. The list goes on. But if you read my article in February, you’ll remember that I wrote about something many people do not always admit — the new year does not always start the way we expect it to.

January is marketed as this grand reset. New goals. New discipline. New habits. New you. But life doesn’t always follow the calendar.

Sometimes the year begins with uncertainty. Sometimes with stress. Sometimes with loss. And sometimes the first couple of months pass in a blur while you're simply trying to stay steady.

That was very much the reality for me this year. Losing my daddy on January 1 shifted the way 2026 began for our family.

Instead of jumping straight into the energy and momentum that usually surrounds a new year in fitness, the start of this year required something different — time, space, reflection, and grace.

Grief has a way of slowing things down. It forces you to sit with emotions you can’t rush past. But over the past couple of months, I’ve realised something important.

Routine becomes an anchor, and for me, part of that routine has been returning to the space that grounds me — HindsSight.

As the owner and a coach, the gym has always been a place where I pour into others. But during this season, I’ve been reminded that it pours back into me too.

It is the energy in the room. It is the music and the encouragement between members. And there is that collective push during a tough session.

Those moments remind you that movement is more than just exercise — it’s therapy, community, and release, all wrapped into one.

Fitness has been part of my life for much longer than HindsSight.

When I was much younger, my daddy used to host fitness classes in his free time after work.

Outside of his regular policing responsibilities, he would spend his spare time leading people through workouts simply because he enjoyed it and believed in helping others stay active.

I remember watching him lead those classes, encouraging people, pushing them, and creating an atmosphere that made people want to give their best.

He had this deep, boisterous voice that filled the room — the kind that immediately commanded respect.

It wasn’t just about volume or presence. When he pushed people in his classes, his clients knew something important: he believed they could complete the task.

There was confidence behind every instruction. Even when people were tired, even when the workout got tough, they trusted that he would not ask them to do something he did not believe they were capable of.

At the time, I was just watching my daddy. I didn’t realise I was also learning.

As he got older and busier, he eventually stepped away from hosting classes. But, every now and then, he would come into HindsSight with my mama and sister and do what we later called Family Fitness.

And every time he did, he showed the same thing: strength and grit.

No complaints. No backing down. Just showing up and doing the work. And not once did he give up.

Looking back now, I realise that mentality was being passed down long before I understood it. But what I’ve also learnt over the years — from stories people have shared with me — is that his presence carried that same weight even outside of the gym.

He was someone whose presence demanded respect. Not through intimidation (or many a little), but through the way he carried himself.

And for some people, he was more than just the trainer, more than just Mr Jackson (or the rank).

He was a reminder. A reminder that they too could succeed. That they could reach their goals.

That if they committed fully — the same way they pushed through those tough classes — they could apply that same discipline to their lives.

Not just with ambition, but with honesty. With integrity. And with kindness. Those values mattered to him.

And they matter to me. Because that’s something I find myself reminding my clients of today.

The lessons from the gym don’t stay in the gym. The discipline, the resilience and the confidence you develop are meant to follow you into your life.

So here’s a quiet cheers to my daddy — for the lessons he probably did not even realise he was passing down.

For the way he pushed people. For the belief he had in them. For the example he set both inside and outside of the gym, both inside and outside the office.

In many ways, he has silently contributed to the way I train clients, the way I coach classes, and the way I try to lead people towards becoming stronger — not just physically, but in life.

And even in his absence, I’m grateful for that. Because those lessons do not disappear.

They live on in the way we move, in the way we encourage others, and in the way we keep showing up.

Maybe that’s part of why March always feels like a turning point. Around this time every year, there’s a shift. The days stretch a little longer, the air warms slightly, and people start remembering the goals they set for themselves.

That “March Madness” energy kicks in. There are more classes, more focus in the kitchen.

Coaches pushing a little harder because they know what everyone is capable of. Momentum begins to build again. But the most important thing to remember — especially if the year did not start the way you hoped — is that progress does not require a perfect beginning.

You are not behind, you’re simply continuing the journey.

Sometimes the goals we chase after a difficult season become the ones that mean the most, because they are not driven by hype.

They’re driven by resilience. And if there’s one thing my daddy showed me — both when I was watching him lead classes years ago and when he walked into HindsSight later in life, for Family Fitness — it’s that resilience is built by showing up.

Again and again, even when things are tough.

So as we step into this March energy, the focus isn’t perfection, it’s intention.

One more class this week. One better decision in the kitchen. One more day of showing up for yourself.

Because the year isn’t defined by how it started. It’s defined by how you keep going.

Happy Wednesday fitfam, and as usual, remain unapologetic about your entire fitness and wellness journey, stay true to yourself and always be honest with your efforts.

Let the madness continue!

• Dre Hinds is a personal trainer, aerobic and yoga instructor and fitness “addict” with more than 20 years’ experience. She specialises in nutrition, weight and sprint training, operating out of HindsSight Fitness and Wellness at the Berkeley Cultural Centre. Contact her at absbydre@gmail.com or on 599-6683. Find her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram under @Absbydre