What a powerful question for us in the health and fitness industry. What will we do with Easter when the storms of life arise? What will we do with Easter on Monday when we get to the gym, or the studio, or the track?

What will we do when we're tempted to gloat, to boast, to pat ourselves on the back? What will we do?

What will we do when we get sick? Like, really sick. What will we do when our dreams of gains, of glorious pain, of wondrous work, when the welcome pursuit of fitness is denied us? What will we do?

What will we do when the status call on social media stokes our fear of missing out? What will we do with Easter?

What will we do when our loss of muscle, or our gain of bodyfat, our diminishing bone mass, elevated resting heart rate, our unrelenting atrophy, our irreversible disease progression, or our unmistakeable loss of strength testifies to the truth that we are made of dust, not iron. What will we do with Easter?

When we peer into the empty tomb of Easter this weekend, that's the lens through which everything else in life can be seen, even our bodies. And as fitness people, as hard-chargers, as iron-pushers, as mile runners, record-breakers, goal makers, and as broken-down, out-of-the-game lifters like me, the empty tomb is full of grace, and joy, and relief. The thought of His victory eternally exceeds our loss or gains in this vapor-quick life.

What will we do with Easter?

- Jimmy Peña