Stronger Than I Thought

Cold Mornings & Questionable Decisions

Writing early this week while the weekend is still fresh in my mind.

It’s one of those cool, beautiful Texas mornings—the kind where the lake breeze bites just enough to remind me that my blood has officially thinned. Been here a year now, and I handle cold like a little bitch. Texans love to act tough until it dips below 60. Now I get it.

Anyway… Saturday, I took on one of the biggest physical and mental challenges of my life:
A full marathon ruck march.
26.2 miles—ended up being 26.45 (that’s 52,340 steps if your curious)—with 34 lbs strapped to my back.
Now don’t let the pictures below fool you…it was brutal. Rewarding. And honestly? There were a few moments I wasn’t sure I’d make it across the finish line.
But more on that in a bit.

Why the Hell Would Anyone Do That?

Fair question.
Two reasons.

One—I like to do hard shit that pushes me out of my comfort zone. Shit that makes other people ask, “Why the hell would anyone do that?” Because comfort is a drug that numbs us until we stop growing.

And two—because my buddy from Gobundance, Hayden Stovall, asked me to.
I wasn’t about to say no to a Navy guy… and even more than that, I wasn’t about to let him do something this hard alone.

That’s the real beauty of Gobundance.
You don’t have to take on the hard shit in life—whether you choose it or it chooses you—alone.

No Prep, Just Pride

I’ll be honest, I barely trained for this. Did zero research on the course. No real prep.
Just figured I’ve done some tough stuff before, and once I got moving, I’d find a way to finish—especially knowing I had Hayden with me.

Spoiler alert: that mindset almost bit me in the ass.

If you’re going to take on anything extreme—physical or otherwise—do your fucking homework. Train. Prepare. Respect the challenge.

It’s something I’ve got to apply in a lot more areas of life, because my default mode is to dive in and figure it out as I go. And yeah, that can be a superpower. But imagine combining that bias for action with real preparation? Dangerous combo.

Rainey Street & Rough Sleep

Friday night, we got into Austin and met up with another friend, Cipriano, who was in town from PA. 

• Shout out to Cip for closing on a 99 acre golf course in Scranton PA with his business partner! 

 I made a smart choice—grabbed some shawarma from a sketchy food trailer on Rainey Street.
While I ate, all I could think was: “Please God, don’t let me get the squirty poops tomorrow.”

Miraculously, no squirty poops.

We made it back to the Vrbo, tried to get some sleep… emphasis on tried.
Had these dark, vivid dreams that kept me hovering in this weird half-sleep state.
Woke up at 4:00 am feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Chugged some coffee, even though the smart choice would’ve been water and electrolytes, because… life without coffee? Not worth it.

The Sodomizers & The Angel Named Brody

At check-in, we weighed our rucks. Required weight was 20 lbs—ours clocked in at 34 lbs.
They said they were going to ensure we had 20 lbs of plates—they didn’t—so with water, food, and some extra clothes, we overachieved.

Our team name? The Sodomizers.
I had jokingly suggested that to Hayden and he decided to roll with it. Saying that out loud to the two girls checking us in was… interesting.
Luckily, they laughed. Probably out of pity.

We met Marshall, a guy whose dad bailed last minute due to food poisoning. He asked to join us. We said hell yes—one more Sodomizer ready to roll.

First 8 miles went smooth… and then the rain hit.
Feet soaked. Blisters formed. Pain set in.
Lesson learned: dry socks, waterproof bag, spare shoes. Again… research. Preparation. Duh.

After 12 miles and four checkpoints, we made it back to the starting point, regrouped, and got our second set of checkpoints—14.2 miles to go.

And this is where shit started getting real.

Marshall started struggling. Bad.
He was slowing us down—and believe it or not, going slower can actually make the pain worse.
We didn’t want him to quit, but we also had to make sure he didn’t get injured or worse.

We stopped at a gas station for electrolytes and snacky treats.
He refueled, stretched, and we hit the pavement again.

At the third checkpoint—mile 18—we realized something…

We’d already passed some of the later checkpoints.
WHAT THE FUCK?
We plotted the rest—13.2 miles left.
18 + 13.2 = 31.2. Something wasn’t adding up.

Morale? Tanking.
Bodies? Breaking down.

Then we met Brody—an angel sent by God in the form of a ruck march vet and local Austinite.
He helped us reroute. Recenter. Recommit.

Turns out the checkpoints were in alphabetical order, not geographical.
Would’ve been nice to know that from the start.

When we realized we only had 8 miles left, Marshall lit up and said (yep—8 Mile, Marshall… if you know, you know):
“Let’s fucking finish this thing out, guys.”
And he took off like a bearded bat out of hell.

We found a second wind. Hit our stride. Started stacking checkpoints.

The Pain, The Push, The Finish

Then came the hills. The brain fog. More pain.

At one point, Marshall sat down. Hayden and I looked at him and got real:
“Get up, brother. If you stop, you won’t start again.”
That message hit all of us.

Final checkpoint done. 2.5 miles left.

We couldn’t stop—not even for traffic—because if we stopped, we wouldn’t restart.
So we Frogger’d across intersections.
Honestly, getting hit didn’t sound like the worst outcome at that point.

Last mile was hell.
Every step—glass shards through my legs.
Feet, ankle, back, hips—everything screaming.

My mind went dark. So I prayed.

I thanked God for the strength to do hard things. I asked Him to carry me through. And I knew He wouldn’t let me down—nor would I let Him, or my teammates.

We turned the corner. Marshall was behind us, dragging.
I looked back and said, “We’re crossing this finish line together, brother. Get up here.”
He did.

And we finished.
9 hours. 52,340 steps.
Mission accomplished.

Stronger Than I Thought

This whole event reminded me a lot of my entrepreneurial journey.

Two years ago, I dove in without much prep (you’d think I would’ve learned from stuff like this ruck march—but nope).
At first, it was exciting. New. Fun. The energy was high.
And then… just like mile 18… shit got real.

Doubt crept in. The road felt longer than expected.
Progress didn’t always come easy.
And more than once, I questioned if I was going to make it.

But just like Saturday, I had the right people around me.
People who pushed me when I started dragging.
People who refused to let me quit.
Brothers who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.

And now, as I write this, I’m staring at some massive opportunities—ones I wouldn’t have reached without those people walking beside me.

Hell, even this morning, that old doubt started creeping in again.
But after one honest conversation with my mentor —me laying my desires and dreams on the table—something shifted.

Recentered. Recommitted.
Massive opportunities incoming.

Because when you’ve got the right people around you?
You’re stronger than you think.

As always, thanks for reading. 

Kyle 

Song

You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling: Righteous Brothers - Listen, if you don’t love the original Top Gun you’re just not an American plain and simple. This song is my favorite one from an epic sound track.