My Playbook This Week

• It starts with belief. When I’ve run out of belief in myself, I’ve leaned on the people who love me enough to carry it for me. That only works because I’ve gotten intentional about who I keep close. At some point, we all need to lean on others—and for me, borrowing their belief has been one of the biggest differences between quitting and pressing on.

• Stay relentlessly consistent. I’ve learned this in fitness and in business. One intense month in the gym doesn’t change your body—but stacking a hundred ordinary sessions does. It’s been the same with building Forge and with land deals. For me, relentless consistency—not hype, not short bursts—has been the difference.

• Be patient. This one’s hardest for me. I’ve had to remind myself that every journey is unique. What happens for one man in six months might take me a year or two. I’ve found that when I can stop chasing the timeline and start loving the process, everything shifts. For me, that’s meant trusting God, trusting the universe, and trusting that if I keep showing up, the results will come.
  

That’s how transformation happens—in business, in fitness, in life.

The Funk

Scarcity had been weighing on me for weeks.

Sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling while my mind ran laps around the same questions:

When will the business finally stabilize? When will we hit breakeven? And what if the vision I’ve been holding so clearly never actually becomes reality?

When you live in that place long enough, it doesn’t just stay in your head. It shows up in your body.

I was exhausted. Stressed. Overwhelmed.

And to make it worse, I’d been overtraining—piling on physical stress as a way to avoid the emotional pain. On paper it looked “productive”:

• Running three days a week
  

• Lifting three days a week
  

• Jiu-jitsu three days a week, rolling live rounds every time
  

• Conditioning stacked on top
  

• A ruck here and there
  

All of it while barely making time for recovery. No yoga. No ice baths. Just grind, grind, grind.

It caught up to me. My neck, back, and hips ached. I was irritable. Foggy. Fatigued. And the sleeplessness only got worse.

That’s the danger of numbing.

We usually think of numbing as alcohol, porn, weed—whatever your vice is. But it can look like something that seems “productive” too. For me, it was overtraining. Pushing my body so hard that I didn’t have to sit with the real problem: scarcity mindset.

I didn’t see it clearly until a conversation with my accountability partners cracked it open. These are four guys I meet with weekly—men who know my goals, hold me accountable, and push me deeper. That’s when it finally clicked: I wasn’t training with intention. I was training to avoid.

And when you numb the pain, you also numb the lesson inside it.

The Way She Believes

In the middle of all that, Kallie hugged me and said:
“I know everything is going to work out—because I believe in you.”

That belief pulled me out of the fog.

It’s not the first time. Over the last few years she’s carried me in ways I never expected—through the transition out of my six-figure W2 job, when I wasn’t sure who I was as a man without the stability of being “the provider.”

Here’s the thing: a lot of women, when they have to carry the boats for a season, use it against their man. They strip him of his identity. I’ve seen it happen.

Kallie has never done that. She’s carried me in a way that allows me to remain a man in her eyes. She knows I’m still her protector. She knows this season of risk and uncertainty is about building the life we want, becoming the parents we want to be, and creating the foundation for our child’s future.

She balances it beautifully—and that’s rare.

But she’s done more than just hold me up.

She’s the one who encouraged me to take the risks in the first place. She pushed me to invest in myself—to do things like join GoBundance, a mastermind of like-minded men and women who set big goals, hold each other accountable, and push one another to become who we’re meant to be. She nudged me toward retreat when I thought we couldn’t afford it. She knew the financial cost—and still believed it would pay off.

That kind of belief isn’t passive. It’s bold. It’s costly. And it’s changed the trajectory of my life.

Borrowed Belief

That’s what led me deeper into GoBundance—and into a community of people who believe in me too.

And here’s what I’ve realized: belief becomes contagious.
If Kallie believes in me—and my friends and mentors believe in me—how disrespectful would it be not to believe in myself?

That realization shifted my energy.

Instead of spiraling into doubt, I got back to work. Reached out to investors. Sourced deals. By the end of the day, Josh and I had closed on our sixth property, lined up three more, and we’re on the verge of our first sale.

It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t magic.

It was relentless consistency.
It was patience.
And it was the borrowed belief of the people I’ve intentionally chosen to surround myself with.

And I don’t take that for granted.

I’ve been extremely blessed with parents who have always believed in me, and friends back in Cleveland who have stood by me even when I haven’t been the best at expressing my gratitude. I feel that love. I know it’s there. And it’s a huge reason why one of my alignment values is love—because it reminds me to reflect on the blessings I’ve been given, and to keep putting that same love out into the world.

The Playbook I’m Learning to Live

• Be intentional with who you surround yourself with. For me, being around people who believe in me—Kallie, my accountability partners, my parents, my friends back home—has been the difference between quitting and pressing on.
  

• Stay relentlessly consistent. In fitness, one intense month in the gym won’t change your body. But stack a hundred ordinary sessions, and you’re a different man. I’ve found life works the same way.
  

• Be patient. I’ve had to remind myself that every journey is unique. What happens for one man in six months might take me a year or two. The point isn’t about hitting it on a specific timeline—it’s just about getting there. That’s why I’m learning to appreciate the process itself. Because once you reach one summit, there’s always another mountain waiting. So I keep taking action, trust God’s timing, and lean into the process.
  

That’s what’s working for me. Maybe parts of it resonate with you, maybe they don’t. Either way, I hope it encourages you to keep going.

Strength isn’t built in isolation. Even the strongest of us need someone to hand us belief when ours runs out.

That’s the real superpower.

As always, thanks for reading,
Kyle

Song of the Week

“Sleeping on the Blacktop” — Colter Wall

Colter Wall’s music has this grit to it — raw, unpolished, and unapologetically real. Sleeping on the Blacktop isn’t polished up for radio. It’s about being out in the struggle, carrying the weight, and still pressing forward.

That resonates with me right now. Entrepreneurship, fatherhood, fitness — none of it feels clean or easy. It feels like scraping by on the blacktop some days. But there’s beauty in that grind, because that’s where the lessons live.

This track reminds me that the fight itself is the point. You don’t have to romanticize it. You just have to keep showing up.