There's a lot before 23. But at 23 I should have been in control.

I wasn't.

I was in a motorcycle crash that first responders treated as a fatality. My parents were told I might not make it. Then that I'd lose the arm. Then that I'd never be the same.

They were right about that last part. Just not the way they meant it.

What came after the crash was the real story. Addiction. Bankruptcy. Foreclosure. Years of surviving instead of living. And then slowly, painfully, honestly... a rebuild. Physical. Mental. Financial. Spiritual.

CrossFit rebuilt the body. Therapy rebuilt the mind. Truth rebuilt everything else.

I'm a husband of 13 years. Father of three: Dominick, Gianna, and Lucas, whose Down syndrome has taught me more about love and resilience than any hardship ever has.

I'm also a builder in the literal sense. That's the work.

But this blog is about the other kind of building. The kind that happens when everything falls apart and you decide, one honest day at a time, that you're not done yet.

If something here resonated with you, you're in the right place.

You are not alone. There is a way through. And the struggle itself is where the joy lives.