I’ve spent my entire life working — literally since I was sixteen years old.
While other kids were still figuring out who they were, I was already working full-time, learning what it meant to carry responsibility long before I ever carried a dream of my own.

By nineteen, I was getting married, starting a family, and building a life from the ground up.
No shortcuts.
No breaks.
Just hard work, long days, and doing whatever it took so my wife could stay home and raise our children the way we always wanted.

Most of my adult life has been spent working two or three jobs at a time.
Early mornings.
Late nights.
Holidays.
Birthdays.
Sleep-deprived but determined.

And little by little, year by year…
time slipped by.

Not slowly.
Not gently.
But like a blur I couldn’t stop — a constant forward motion where I was always behind, always chasing, always doing more.

I watched life pass in fast-forward.

I lost my mother far too young.
I’ve buried friends who never got the chance to grow old.
Each loss shook me, softened me, and reminded me how fragile time really is — but instead of slowing down, I buried myself deeper into work.
Because working was easier than feeling the pain.
Easier than facing the fact that life was rushing past and I wasn’t really living it.

I gave everything I had to building a life for my family…
and somewhere along the way, I forgot to build one for myself.

There’s a moment in life when you look around and realize you’ve been moving, but not really living.

For me, that moment came quietly — somewhere between long work days, rising stress, and the feeling that time was slipping through my fingers faster than I could hold onto it.

I’m a husband, a dad, a hard worker, and someone who gives everything I have to the people around me. But somewhere along the way, I stopped giving anything to myself.

I felt stuck.

Physically drained.

Emotionally worn down.

And unsure of where the road ahead was leading.

Then something changed.

I got on my bike — just to clear my head — and I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: Freedom.

The wind on my face.

The quiet of the road.

The feeling of being fully alive in the moment.

It unlocked something inside me that had been buried under years of responsibility and routine.

And that spark turned into a dream.

Freedom Ride 2026

In May 2026, I’ll be riding my e-bike from Connecticut all the way to the West Coast — roughly 3,600 miles — averaging about 100 miles a day.

For 45 days, it’ll be just me, my bike, a small trailer, and the open road.

No shortcuts.

No backup vehicle.

No comfort zone.

Just a man pushing himself farther than he ever has — mentally, physically, and emotionally.

When I reach the Pacific, my family will meet me, and together we’ll travel the 45-day journey home.

Because this ride isn’t just my journey… it’s ours.

Why I’m Doing This

• I want to prove to myself that it’s never too late to chase something big.

• I want to show my kids what resilience looks like.

• I want to break the cycle of stress and burnout.

• I want to inspire people who feel like they’ve lost their spark.

• I want to feel alive again — truly alive.

Every mile will be a reminder that life is short, precious, and meant to be lived with purpose, not just survived.

What Your Support Means

Taking 90 days off work to pursue this dream comes with real sacrifices — financial, physical, and emotional. But I believe this journey has the power to change my life, strengthen my family, and impact people far beyond the miles I ride.

Your support helps cover:

Lodging

Food

Gear

Emergency costs

Lost wages

And the basic essentials that keep me safe on the road

But most importantly, your support tells me that you believe in this mission — that you believe in me.

The Bigger Purpose

This isn’t a race.

It isn’t a midlife crisis.

It isn’t a stunt.

It’s a message.

A message that no matter your age, your stress, your past, or how stuck you feel — you can still rewrite your story.

You can still choose adventure. You can still choose purpose. You can still choose freedom.

And if my ride encourages even one person to take that first step toward their own version of freedom, then every pedal stroke will be worth it.

Join Me on the Road

Whether you’re supporting, sharing, donating, or simply following the journey from home — thank you.

You’re part of this ride, part of this story, and part of this mission.

Together, we’re proving that every day truly is a gift…

and it’s never too late to live it fully.