The Reboot Project: Dylan’s Hero Experience

Before The Reboot Project, I Was Lost in Plain Sight

From the outside, life looked fine. Good job. Wife. Three kids. Roof over my head. But inside, I was drowning. I’d throw on a smile to hide my suffering and just try to make it to 2000 hours when the kids went to bed so I could numb my mind with Joe Rogan conspiracy videos about aliens and stuff my face with chocolate frosted donuts and milk until I passed out for the night.

The depression was heavy. The anxiety was constant.

I’d wake up tired, drift through the day, and go to bed with that quiet desperation, knowing I was capable of more but wasn’t doing a damn thing about it.

Before TRP, I had discipline once. Five years active duty Army. 82nd Airborne. Field Artillery. High speed, low drag type stuff with my hombres. But somewhere between civilian life and survival mode, I lost my edge. I wasn’t leading myself, and I wasn’t showing up as the man my family needed.

I tried the cool fitness influencer workout programs and fad diets, only to wind up in the same situation.

Then I found The Reboot Project.

When I first talked to Bryan, I could feel it. The authenticity. No sales pitch. No fake positivity. Just a straight-talking veteran who lived what he preached. He talked about purpose, structure, and community, things I didn’t even realize I was starving for.

I was so moved by the mission that I offered my IT skills and knowledge to Bryan and The Reboot Project, ready to pour all my free time into helping however I could. I asked Bryan what I could do to help, and he hit me with one line that changed everything: “Go through the program.”

At that moment, with how our conversations had been going, I felt a significant push to accept his offer. It felt like a higher power was whispering in my ear, “Take the leap. Go. Do it. This is the way.”

I gave it a day to process, but the truth is, I had already accepted this path the moment Bryan brought it up.

So I made a decision. No more halfway living. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I joined The Reboot Project to get the help I knew I needed but had rejected for so many years.

This past year wasn’t about motivation. It was about execution. I learned how to fuel my body, not just feed it. I learned how to train for longevity, not ego. I dropped the excuses, tracked my macros, trained five to six days a week, and started living intentionally again.

Over the course of the program, I completed my first ultramarathon, the Kal-Haven 33.5 miler. I ran multiple trail and road half marathons. I ran the Leadville Trail Marathon at over 10,000 feet of elevation. I finished a 50-mile ruck march for charity, carrying not just weight on my back, but the memory of every single veteran and first responder who closed their book of life prematurely.

I built consistency, resilience, and a new standard for myself physically, mentally, and spiritually. But it wasn’t just the races or the metrics. It was the man I was becoming in the process.

Then came the climb, Grays, a fourteen-thousand-foot peak in Colorado. The mountain didn’t care who we were or what we’d been through. It demanded everything: breath, focus, presence, endurance.

There were moments where quitting whispered in my ear. But I’ve learned something powerful this past year. When you’re out of breath, out of strength, and out of excuses, that’s when your soul finally gets quiet enough to hear the truth. That you are powerful beyond measure if you have the courage to face your demons.

At the summit, I wasn’t celebrating distance. I was celebrating redemption with my brothers and sisters beside me. I didn’t conquer the mountain. I conquered the version of me that almost gave up on life. And I did it with genuine, compassionate human beings who had my back the entire way.

The Reboot Project wasn’t just a fitness program. It was a lifeline. It gave me clarity, community, and a plan. Now I live with structure again. My goals are written down. My days have purpose. And I’m part of a brotherhood that refuses to let each other drift back into the darkness.

That’s what The Reboot Project gave me, not just a new body or mindset, but the belief that I can rebuild anything, starting with myself.

If you’re reading this and feel that quiet pull, that voice saying you’re made for more, listen to it. I’ve learned that change doesn’t happen in the spotlight. It happens in the dark, when no one’s watching, and you choose to keep going anyway.

The Reboot Project helped me remember who I am.

And now, every day, I earn it.

Victory is won in the darkness.