The Reboot Project: Gina’s Experience

Some differences seem so big and so drastic that literal wars have been started and fought over them. And sometimes differences seem so subtle that they begin to merge with points of commonality and sameness. I found myself perseverating on these ideas throughout my first year of working with The Reboot Project.

I have always had a profound reverence for our country’s history and those who  have served as the agents of change over the last 250 years. Most of all, for the men and women who have stood up and answered the call to serve in our military, as well as our local first responders. I have been aware of this deep respect since a young age in high school.

In hindsight, it’s curious to me that I didn’t feel called to serve myself. I remember thinking about the ROTC program in college and reconciling that this was a program for people way tougher-minded than me. Having struggled with my own mental health and mental fortitude in sports, I quickly dismissed any musings about having something of value to contribute to that world.

Yet, as I think about that one brief reflective pause in my life, I imagine a world where no one raised their hand, no one felt compelled to answer that call or to move toward that challenge. It’s a thought I quickly shift away from. Like many other Americans, I have been afforded the luxury of perceived “safety” in my life, knowing there are others who have said “yes” to standing guard. To these folks, I’m eternally and sincerely grateful.

The term “hero” gets used a lot when we are talking about our men and women in service, but have you ever considered what that word really means? The etymology of the word hero is Greek. It comes from the word hērōs, which means “to watch over.”

We often think of superhuman images of brute strength and daring feats when we hear the word “hero.” However, I’ve heard the definition restated in recent years as “protector” and “someone with the strength for two.” The word very accurately describes the men and women of the armed services and first responders.

What is often not discussed in the context of heroism is that the hero’s secret weapon, according to Brian Johnson, author of Arete, is love. Love of family, love of purpose, love of country, love of liberty and freedom, love of humanity, love of God, love of life itself.

This weapon of the hero was uniquely and collectively demonstrated this past week as we gathered for the mountain climb, which culminated the year-long journey of The Reboot Project participants. Each hero worked through a systemized approach toward personalized goals across various domains of life, including nutrition, fitness, finance, community/contribution, mental and emotional fitness, and purpose. The mountain was not the end of the journey but rather marked the rededication of each hero’s commitment to their holistic wellness.

As a member of the support team, I wasn’t sure what this would look like as we came together around this small group of heroes who had already completed various challenges throughout the year to embark on a group climb to celebrate their commitment to themselves, their families, and their communities.

What emerged in these four days, however, were profound transformations and shared experiences that revealed no less than the most courageous common humanity. A collection of veterans from various branches and one civilian (me) came together to embrace, encourage, and celebrate these heroes because they had the courage to say “yes” when it mattered most in their lives.

In most cases, we were strangers and yet unified with the common mission of The Reboot Project. The goal was to summit one of Colorado’s 14,000-foot mountain peaks, which promised a sense of celebration, satisfaction, and achievement. The four days spent in community and the journey itself provided so much more.

As we began in the dark with the small shine of a headlamp, I was reminded of scripture that I’d recently read: Psalms 119:10, “Your word is a lantern to my feet and a light to my path.” It occurred to me as we walked that we couldn’t see our destination. We only had the next step in front of us, and that was enough. It had to be, until the sun would rise and illuminate not just what was ahead, but also how far we’d come.

Depending on your perspective, this could be daunting and overwhelming as the effects of the altitude on breathing and heart rate became more profound. For me, this became a familiar metaphor, having done endurance events throughout my life. I began to think about what it was that I put at the top of the mountain that day. What was the target? What was I striving to reach up there?

I settled on gratitude. I had gratitude for each of the souls I was walking beside, for their sacrifices, for their service. I had gratitude for the nature I was in, and gratitude for my body to be able to do what I was asking of it that day.

One thing we are all guaranteed as competitors and elite performers (military and first responders) is that eventually our time to perform at a high level will come to an end. No one can say if it will be in 20 years, 50 years, five days, or five minutes, but I was grateful for that day, that moment.

With each step that I took, I was grateful for my body’s stamina, strength, and mobility. It didn’t make the task any easier, but doing it in community, in honor of others, gave me a purpose to move toward.

I became acutely aware of the varying challenges in this task for each person in our group and the challenges that would lie ahead long after this climb was over. Everyone has their own version of hard. At different times in my life, there have been different targets to strive for. At times, the target was just to get through the day. Sometimes we get to choose our hard, and sometimes the “hard” finds us.

When that is the case, we get to choose whether to lean in with courage or move away from it toward safety and comfort. Each of the heroes that said “yes” to TRP were willing to lean into what was hard. One of the most impactful aspects of The Reboot Project is that its framework is designed to be repeatable throughout life and provide structure and accountability that can be replicated across various contexts.

As we walked on Friday, I began to realize that at the start of various events and journeys in my own life, I have often seen the peak of the mountain in the distance like a beacon calling to me. It becomes my purpose, my goal. As I journey toward that target, I realize at certain points, I can no longer see the summit.

Often, in these moments, I’ve encountered self-doubt, fear, or self-rebuke, asking why I had the audacity to begin this journey in the first place. On this particular climb, it occurred to me that even though we can’t see the top of the mountain for much of the journey, it doesn’t mean our target is out of reach or that we’re on the wrong path.

In fact, it’s no different than when we started in the dark with only a lamp to light each footstep. You get to the top the same way, one foot in front of the other. There are no shortcuts. Sometimes you may need to stop and rest. Sometimes you may even need to restart the journey altogether. The power of those choices is always in our hands.

Sometimes the most disciplined and prudent thing to do is to rest, and sometimes it’s to ask for someone to journey with you. What is hard will always be available to us. No one is exonerated from doing the work, but no one has to do it alone.

The Reboot Project calls people to be heroes for each other throughout life in various capacities through sharing time, talent, effort, and compassion. When we choose to come alongside someone on their journey, we are saying “yes” to the privilege of sharing a human experience, and we are unconsciously giving that person permission to do the same for someone else.

This time in the mountains with TRP was a gift to me of the most profound kind. It was a snapshot of shared life experience with different people, all with different stories and backgrounds, and all who were willing to say YES to a challenge and to each other.

It has been my honor to support TRP. It is my hope that others say YES to supporting and giving back to the men and women who’ve said yes to protecting and serving all of us.