Project Grit

The Comanche called it their season.

When the full moon rose over Texas they moved. Fast. Disciplined. With complete trust in the man riding next to them.

The settlers saw the same moon and made a different choice. Band together or lose everything.

Same moon. Two different standards of readiness.

June 26th we put 13 miles of Wimberley Valley under our boots after dark.

This is the Comanche Moon Ruck.

Are you in?

Link in bio to register. $100. Limited spots.

Matt King and Joey Hassett just finished “theRide”.

2,000 miles. Mexico to Canada. On a bike.

I created my own unofficial side event. I’m calling it the “Low Speed Chase”. 2,000 miles in a van. 20mph. Staring at the back of two guys in bike shorts the whole way. Trust me. It has its own set of challenges.

But what happened out there had nothing to do with miles.

$750,000 raised. Every dollar given away in real time to real people.

Veterans got their houses paid off. Families rebuilt after house fires. Medical bills erased. Contributed to elderly folks daily meal programs. 200 kids got new shoes.

Plus so much more.

We took the off beaten path through the heart of this nation. Through the forgotten towns nobody talks about.

And what we found there I will carry the rest of my life.

The people. The stories. The emotions.

All of it.

That’s theRide.

Some stops aren’t on the map.

A disabled veteran sitting in a diner with his daughter. His wife passed away last year. He’s been carrying that weight alone. Behind on his payments for his mobile home. Struggling to keep it all together. Falling behind but still showing up for his kid every single day.

That’s what veterans do.
They carry it quiet.
They just keep going.

His home got paid off.
His breakfast got paid for.
His daughter watched strangers choose her dad.

That’s what The Ride is about.
Not the miles.
The people you find along the way.

Every mile tells a story.

Day 4 of theRide brought us face to face with families carrying losses I hope to never know.

A little boy without his foot. A little girl without her leg. A family whose baby passed. A mother whose husband never made it home. Her baby is six months old and will never meet her father.

I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster out here. Running on little sleep. Driving the van. Helping solve problems. Staying in the fight.

But days like today put everything in perspective.

Someone else’s pain doesn’t erase mine. But it does remind me what really matters.

It feels good to be part of something that gives back to people who are hurting.

Every mile matters. Every family matters.

That’s theRide.

Follow along as Matt King and Joey Hassett ride 2,000 miles from Mexico to Canada to raise and give away $1,000,000 for families in need.

DAY 2 & 3 OF THERIDE

Day two started before the sun came up with a van problem.

Tensioner on the serpentine belt going out. Not a small issue when you’re the support vehicle for a 2,000-mile bike ride.

I loaded up and drove the van 150 miles to Cory Hastings. Diesel mechanic. A man who has shown up for my events more than once. He didn’t hesitate. Got it handled.

That’s what this whole ride is about. People showing up when it would be easier not to.

We met the crew in Seguin for two giveaways. One to a family with a disabled son who needed a car. One to a new YMCA being built so adaptive athletes have a place to train.

Day three we rolled out of Seguin through the Hill Country. 150 miles of hills that chew you up and spit you out in the Texas heat.

We rode past Wimberley. My hometown.

In Dripping Springs the crew stopped mid-ride to ride with a group of kids, including some with disabilities. Dan was out there pouring into his teammates. Derrick logged 80 miles on pure heart.

That’s what I keep seeing out here. Every single day.

People showing up for other people.

That’s theRide.

Day one of The Ride. 150 miles. Matamoros to Alice, Texas.

Mile 40 the sky turned black. Temperature dropped 15 degrees in minutes. Torrential rain. 35 mph headwind straight into their faces.

They found a bridge. Waited it out. Then got back after it.

Day one has a way of finding every kink. Every gap. Every thing you thought you had figured out. It doesn’t ask permission. It just shows up and starts testing.

I felt that today. The intensity of being in a support role for the first time, making sure these two had everything they needed to keep moving. It’s a different kind of pressure than being the one on the road. But it’s pressure all the same.

When I rucked 1,000 miles across Texas I did it alone. No crew. Just the road and whatever I had left inside.

Watching Matt and Joey out there today reminded me what it feels like to have people in your corner. That changes everything.

The mission is real. The road is long. Day one is done.

I spent years lone wolfing it.

Thought that was strength. Turns out it was just fear with a tougher name.

The pain finally got greater than the fear of asking for help. And when I did, the right person showed up.

He pulled me out of the gutter. Didn’t lecture me. Didn’t fix me. Just asked me to come back.

That one ask changed my life.

We are not built to carry this alone.
That’s not weakness. That’s just the truth.

If nobody’s told you that lately, I’m telling you now.