Isolated and burdened, I found brotherhood, purpose, and healing through F3—faith, fitness, and fellowship transformed my entire life.

On August 1, 2024, I stepped into the gloom for the first time, unsure of what I was walking into. I had heard about F3 three times:  seeing the PAX pulling a truck at our local 4th July parade, hearing an interview with Dark Helmet on a podcast; and my M mentioning it to me after seeing a Facebook post about it. I'd been slowly drifting into what I now know is Sad Clown Syndrome: work was taking all of my time and attention, I was developing a very impressive middle-aged Dad Bod, and I was isolated from a strong fellowship of other men. 

Before F3, I was a man carrying a heavy burden. Life had knocked me around with challenges that felt relentless—mental health battles, addiction struggles, career uncertainty, and the deep ache of isolation. I was in my fifth year of sobriety from drugs and alcohol and I had returned to the Lord after 25 years away from my faith, but something was still unsettled within me.  I wore masks to hide my pain: the “everything’s fine” mask at work, the “got it together” mask in social settings, and the “strong man” mask at home. 

The first F3 workout was a shock to the system. I didn’t  know anyone, and nobody explained much at first.  It’s uncomfortable. It’s chaotic. I had been doing bootcamp-style workouts for 3 years, but they were in climate-controlled environments with plenty of creature comforts to minimize discomfort. This was a different animal altogether, but I loved it. 

Despite the physical challenge, it wasn’t the workout that stuck with me—it was the people. There was something different about these men. It’s hard to be inauthentic at 5:30am. They weren’t posturing or pretending. They were real. They showed up for each other. They picked up the six. They prayed together. They laughed hard and worked harder. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had found My People. 

This sense of community was solidified when I gave my testimony at Celebrate Recovery, a Christ-centered 12 step program in which I’ve participated since I got sober in September 2019. I mentioned my upcoming testimony during a COT and, to my surprise, three PAX showed up to support me despite me only participating in F3 for two weeks. This was a huge turn point for me, and also showed my M that F3 was a genuine group of men who were there for one another. I began to understand that I wasn’t alone in my pain. Other men were facing similar battles. In this space, vulnerability wasn’t weakness—it was strength. We carried each other’s burdens, encouraged one another, and held each other accountable. I began to grow—not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally.

F3 defines Faith as a belief in something bigger than yourself. For myself, that’s God and the salvation we receive through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. F3 doesn’t just treat this as lip service and a box to check off the list; faith in F3 is lived out through service. That’s why I now serve as the 3rd F Q for Tornado Alley—my region’s leader in encouraging and organizing faith-based initiatives. It’s my honor and responsibility to help other men connect with their “why,” to provide opportunities to serve our community, and to offer spiritual support to those who need it.

We live in a culture that increasingly isolates men, and men too often isolate themselves. We’re taught to suppress emotion, to chase status, to define our worth by our productivity. But F3 flips that script. It calls men to be leaders in their homes, workplaces, and communities—not through ego, but through humility, strength, and service.

My story isn’t unique. Across the nation—and the world—men are finding freedom through this movement. F3 gives men a place to belong. It reminds us that we are not alone. And it equips us to go back into our lives with purpose, clarity, and courage.

I’ve seen men kick addictions, rebuild marriages, return to faith, and discover their calling. I’ve witnessed tears, laughter, reconciliation, and transformation. 

These days, I wake up before dawn not because I have to, but because I want to. I am blessed by the discipline, the laughter, the challenge, the shared mission. I know that no matter what’s happening in my life, I’ll have a circle of brothers there in the gloom, ready to push me and remind me who I am.

Being the 3rd F Q gives me a front-row seat to the good work happening all around me. I get to help other men take their next step—whether that’s leading a devotional, organizing a service project, or simply sharing their story. Every man has something to offer. F3 helps him discover it.

And as I continue to walk this path, I’m grateful. I’m grateful for the grace of God that brought me back from the edge. I’m grateful for the men–and my M, who is the most patient, loving, and supportive person I’ve ever met–who didn’t let me quit. And I’m grateful for the chance to serve others—because in doing so, I’ve found healing of my own.

If you’re reading this and you’re struggling, if you feel stuck or isolated or unsure of your place in the world—I want to tell you: there is hope. There is a place for you. You don’t have to be in shape. You don’t have to have your life together. You just have to show up.

Austin Marshall/37/Huffy

F3–Tornado Alley