The 2025 Momentum Retreat — Breaking Barriers at Zion

Five months of preparation.

Five days in the heart of Zion National Park.

Twenty-six Vegan Superheroes who dared to believe they were capable of more.

The 2025 Momentum Retreat wasn’t just another fitness getaway or a pretty Instagram hike. This was a transformative experience, a deep dive into the stories we tell ourselves, the weight we carry (in both body and mind), and the breakthroughs waiting on the other side of fear.

We read Never Finished by David Goggins, journaled, faced our “why,” and examined the beliefs that have kept us small. When we showed up in Zion, it was with one goal: to prove to ourselves that we are stronger, braver, and more powerful than we’ve ever allowed ourselves to believe.

In the documentary THE CLIMB, four incredible clients — Allison, Holly, Toosdhi, and Chris — let the cameras follow their journey, raw and unfiltered. They showed us what it means to confront fear head-on, to lean into discomfort, and to realize that the finish line isn’t the point.

This post is my reflection on that unforgettable retreat, the idea of a “misogi” that shaped it, and why, for every one of us, the real work is only just beginning.

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When you hear “retreat,” maybe you imagine spa days, quiet yoga, or a break from the real world.

Not this one.

The 2025 Momentum Retreat at Zion National Park was five days of pushing limits — physical, emotional, mental — crafted for 26 Vegan Superheroes who had already spent months laying the groundwork. We weren’t strangers showing up cold; we were a community that had been preparing, reflecting, and gearing up for the kind of experience that leaves you forever changed.

For five months before Zion, we worked…hard. We read Never Finished by David Goggins, a masterclass in mental toughness and rejecting the limits you think define you. We journaled about our “why” — why we want to change, why we doubt ourselves, why we hold back. We sat in workshops, we did homework, and we got real about what was holding us down. We walked miles carrying heavy weights to ensure we could make the trek. But this wasn’t just about the body; it was about the mind.

By the time we arrived in Zion, we were ready, or as ready as you can be for something that’s meant to shake you up.

The retreat’s design blended intense physical challenges with soul-level growth work. We didn’t just run workouts; we faced what those workouts represented. We didn’t just carry sandbags; we carried the weight of old stories, old fears, old limits. We didn’t just hike mountains; we confronted the part of ourselves that says, “I can’t.”

At the heart of this retreat was a concept you might not have heard before: misogi.

In Japanese tradition, misogi refers to a ritual of purification, often done through cold water or a strenuous challenge. But in the world of growth and performance, misogi has taken on a new meaning: it’s a once-a-year challenge so big, so uncomfortable, and so uncertain that there’s a 50% chance you’ll fail.

Why?

Because only by setting the bar that high do you stretch beyond what you think you can do.

For our 2025 Momentum Retreat, misogi was the thread running through everything. It wasn’t about hiking a hard trail or doing a grueling workout, it was about choosing to take on something that would force us to confront fear, doubt, and discomfort. Something that would show us what we’re really made of.

Misogi asks you to stop playing small. To stop setting goals you know you can achieve just to feel safe. To embrace a challenge so massive it redefines your sense of self, win or lose.

At Zion, misogi showed up in every part of the retreat:

• The cold plunges that sent a jolt through body and mind.

• The Momentum Murph workout that left us gasping but victorious.

• The sandbag hikes that turned into a metaphor for the mental weight we all carry.

• The rappelling, where fear of heights met the need to trust — the rope, the harness, and ourselves.

This wasn’t about being the fittest or the fastest. It was about who we became when the familiar excuses no longer worked.

Let me be clear: no one showed up at the Momentum Retreat thinking it was going to be easy. But even then, the real challenges often hit in unexpected ways.

The cold plunge? That moment when you strip down, face the freezing water, and step in? It wasn’t just about enduring the cold. It was about letting go. Letting go of the stories we tell ourselves about how we look in front of others, letting go of the fear that rises when we’re out of control. Standing waist-deep in icy water, I watched people wrestle with their own panic, then push through. One participant said, “If I’m going to have a meltdown, these are the best people to have a meltdown around.” That’s community. That’s bravery.

The Momentum Murph? On paper, it’s a workout: run a mile, crank out pull-ups, push-ups, and squats. But under the surface, it was about confronting performance fears, the fear of letting the team down, of falling behind, of not being “enough.” We weren’t just sweating and gasping; we were rewriting the narrative of what it means to belong and contribute.

The hike to Scout Lookout? This was the most powerful metaphor of the week. We strapped on heavy packs, weighted with literal sandbags, and climbed toward Scout Lookout. But those sandbags weren’t just physical. They were the weight of self-doubt, old shame, and the “I’m not good enough” stories we have carried for years. Step by step, we learned that we could keep going or that we could choose to set that weight down.

The rappelling? It wasn’t about descending a rock face. It was about trusting the process. Trusting the rope, the harness, the guide, and most of all, yourself. For people who hate heights (and yes, that included some of us), this wasn’t a technical challenge; it was a mental and emotional challenge.

Every moment of the retreat held up a mirror, asking: Are you ready to stop playing small?

If you’ve watched THE CLIMB documentary, you’ve seen the raw, vulnerable stories of four remarkable participants: Allison, Holly, Toosdhi, and Chris.

Each of them brought their own battles to Zion. And each walked away transformed, not because they became “perfect,” but because they were brave enough to face what needed to change. 

Their stories remind us: transformation doesn’t come when you’ve “arrived.” It comes when you choose to show up, even scared.

Here’s the truth we all faced when the retreat ended.

The work does not stop when you leave Zion.

If anything, that’s when it really begins.

For the 26 Vegan Superheroes, the retreat was never about surviving five days of hard workouts, cold plunges, and mountain climbs. It was about learning to face the things that scare us and then taking that courage back into daily life.

It’s easy to feel strong when surrounded by a team, supported by coaches, lifted by the energy of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But what happens when you go home? What happens when the old habits, old doubts, and old routines try to pull you back?

That is when you remember the misogi.

That’s when you remember the sandbags you left behind.

That’s when you choose to keep showing up for yourself.

As I reflect on the 2025 Momentum Retreat, I keep coming back to my mantra over those 5-days:

Nothing is impossible.

I am unstoppable.

And I am #NeverFinished

I want to thank Allison, Holly, Toosdhi, and Chris for having the courage to share their journeys in THE CLIMB documentary. Their stories are raw, real, and deeply human and they remind us that we all carry invisible sandbags, stories, and fears that weigh us down.

But here’s the thing: you don’t have to keep carrying them.

The misogi taught us that growth happens when we dare to step into something so big, so scary, so uncertain that it shakes up everything we thought we knew about ourselves. The retreat showed us that vulnerability isn’t weakness, asking for help isn’t failure, and finishing isn’t the only measure of success.

If you’re reading this, I invite you to take a moment to reflect on your limiting beliefs.

What is holding you back?

What story have you been telling yourself that it’s time to let go of?

And what would change if you decided to vote for yourself?

I hope you’ll consider joining us for the 2026 Momentum Retreat because the climb is waiting.

And I promise you: the view from the other side is worth it.

Be well.