This is where the war begins—not in the chaos, but in the choice to strip it all back.
Sober October.
Or as a buddy of mine insists on calling it: Soberer October.
(Not my favorite wordsmithing, but hey… I’ll let him have it.)
Here’s the truth: I started back on September 17th.
So by the time October hit, I was already clean.
And I’ll be riding that all the way through… just in time for Get Freaky.
Yeah, that rave in Salt Lake City.
Excision on the lineup.
Bass drops that feel like tectonic plates shifting under your chest.
Call it what you want: chaos, party, spiritual ritual.
For me, raves have always had a touch of the sacred.
Funny enough, it was one of those “sacred” experiences that planted this whole practice in my life.
Picture it: me and Jennie, walking meditation, about ten years ago.
Out of nowhere—clear as lightning—this voice from heaven drops in:
“Give your body a break for 90 days.”
We looked at each other.
Nodded.
And said the only thing we know how to say to a real calling: Yes.
That choice changed everything.
And since then, every October we honor that voice.
We hit pause.
We give the body back its throne.
Fitting, really—coming right after the Modern Day Warrior event last week.
The body, after all, is the temple where the warrior trains.
And a temple doesn’t run on fumes.
And what goes hand-in-hand with 30 days sober?
A 90-day body challenge.
(Details drop tomorrow morning. Don’t miss it.)
So here’s my question for you:
Where in your life could a clean break give you more than the constant grind ever could?
And how do you feel about a yearly challenge—not just for your body, but for your whole damn life?
Let’s go.
Jason