The world hits refresh

March always feels like the world hitting refresh. Days stretch longer. The air bites less. Coffee tastes sharper in the morning light, and suddenly I believe in new beginnings, even if our living room is still a minefield of Lego. This year, I felt it everywhere: in the flicker of Chaharshanbe Suri flames, in the stubborn green shoots of our Sabzeh, and even in every sweat-drenched rep on the gym floor.

Chaharshanbe Suri: A midlife leap

Jumping over Chaharshanbe Suri flames reminded me why traditions matter. I may have squealed mid-leap like a startled cat, but symbolically it was perfect. For my 50 in 50 Challenge, it felt like I was telling the world: “I’ve still got a few leaps left.” Bonus points too because I didn’t scorch my jeans, or my dignity, in the process.

Linwoods and Nowruz breakfasts

Chocolate Protein and Strawberry Energy Linwoods Oats made breakfast a breeze. Cyrus attacked his like a miniature T-Rex, while I quietly savoured 11g of plant-based protein per serve. Protein, energy with minimal effort which is essential when you’re juggling motherhood, gym goals, and the ongoing saga of jeans that hate you. Honestly, some mornings, they just feel like a cruel endurance experiment.

Strength and hydration

Watching our Sabzeh grow taller than my last attempt, I realised growth isn’t instant. Not for plants. Not for humans. Rep by rep, sip by sip, choice by choice: progress quietly happens. March wasn’t about glory; it was about showing up, even on days that felt like assembling IKEA furniture blindfolded.

Punching through midlife

Jumping, punching, sweating, grinning through masochistic delight, Body Combat isn’t just exercise. It’s proof that strength and stamina don’t vanish at 49. Every rep has counted so far in my 50 in 50 Challenge, and the grin between grimaces is priceless.

Self-Care Sundays: candles and sefidab

I resurrected Self-Care Sundays. Candles, soothing music, and a sefidab scrub. One night a week, I could pretend I was a serene influencer, even as my to-do list threatened a novel-length saga. I even bought a two-piece swimsuit. Baby steps. Confidence, as I know all too well, is built gradually, sometimes with wobbles and muttered curses at stubborn stomach rolls. But the attempt counts.

March wrap-up: momentum, mess, midlife magic

Fire jumped. Weights lifted. Tahchin eaten. March was about movement, memory, meaning. 50 in 50 wasn’t perfection this month; but I chose myself repeatedly. Midlife is not the end, just a lively intermission. This is my time, and it’s only getting started.