In this edition, Joe shares:
How a mountain became the classroom for resilience
Why effort heals when talk can’t
The simple truth behind Spartan Therapeutic Training
Joe here, writing from the farm in Vermont. It’s quiet this morning, the kind of calm that seems to only come before a hard day’s work. As I look up at the mountain behind the house, I keep thinking about something that happened here a few summers ago that reminded me why we do what we do at Spartan, and why pain, effort, and movement still matter more than all the theories floating around out there.
A guy named Brian reached out to me back then. He’d served in the army and gone through a rough stretch afterward. It wasn’t anything dramatic, but was the slow kind of unraveling that happens when someone’s mission ends and their purpose disappears. He also had a family member who’d been struggling for years with depression and anxiety. They’d tried everything: therapists, medications, and different kinds of programs. Nothing managed to make a lasting difference. The thing that finally did work for them happened here, on our mountain, with mud on their hands and a rock on their back.
That summer, we were running one of my Spartan wrestling and training camps. Our premise was: wake up before sunrise, jump into the freezing river, grab a huge log or a rock, and carry it up the mountain. The days were long, and the lessons were brutally direct. You either kept moving or you quit. Most of the kids were wrestlers from my son’s team, but a few were there because they needed something else (discipline, direction, or maybe just a reminder that they were stronger than they believed).
Brian volunteered to help that summer. He had a quiet presence, the kind of person who didn’t need to shout to get through to people. When a kid struggled to keep up, got angry, or lost their nerve,, I’d send them off with him. Somehow, those were the moments he handled best.
He didn’t lecture them, or analyze, and he didn’t talk about “mental health” like it was a separate issue floating in the air. He’d start with one question:
“Do you want today to be a success or a failure?”
“"Pain unlocks a secret doorway in the mind.”” – David Goggins
The question was simple but powerful because it shifted everything back to a choice. When the kids said they wanted success - and they always did - he’d ask if they were willing to own it. That’s when the real work began. Together they’d pick up a heavy log, jump into the icy water, and climb until they thought they couldn’t move another inch. Somewhere on that climb, the noise would fall away. The frustration, the fear, the shame, and all the weight they carried that wasn’t physical started to show itself.
That’s where I see change happen. When your body hits its limit, your defenses drop, and you stop pretending. You face yourself at that point. And when you take one more step anyway, you build something that can’t be handed to you by a pill, a therapist, or a motivational quote. You build the belief that you can shape your own life.
That’s the foundation of what we now call Spartan Therapeutic Training. It’s not a fancy program with jargon and acronyms, instead it’s the oldest idea in the world, which is healing through effort. When you push your body through discomfort, your mind follows. You rediscover the truth that every generation before us knew instinctively - movement heals, struggle reveals, and purpose restores.
We live in a world that tries to separate the mental from the physical, as if the mind isn’t part of the body, even though that’s not how we’re made. You can’t sit on a couch and think your way to strength. You have to do your way there. Every burpee, every cold plunge, every climb up a hill is a conversation between your body and your brain.
You Ask, Joe Answers
Q: “Joe, what do you do when you just don’t feel like doing it?” — Megan O.
A: "The minute you start a self-debate, you’ve already lost. I just start doing it, so by the time I have time to think about not doing it, I’ve already started. You think our men and women who serve ask themselves if they “feel” like getting shot at? They just go ahead and deal with it. Remind yourself of this before you hit snooze." — Joe
When those kids left the camp, they weren’t just fitter, like so many that have visited they were changed permanently. They’d proven to themselves that what they thought was their breaking point was just a moment of doubt. And once you know that, it carries into everything else you do: school, work, family, and life.
That summer reminded me that strength isn’t about avoiding pain, but instead it’s about understanding that pain is the signal that growth has begun. It’s the body’s way of saying, “You’re doing something that matters.”
So if you’re struggling right now, stop looking for an easy fix. Go outside. Move. Lift something heavy. Sweat. Breathe. Climb. You don’t need permission to begin, you just need to start.
Hurry up, Joe
