You’re reading Infinite Momentum: a Sunday reflection followed by 130+ thoughtful executives, founders, and creatives navigating growth, change, and clarity.

This week marks the start of Chapter 3: Growth & Integration — the moment in our journey where stillness shifts to motion.

In Chapters 1 and 2, we paused to reflect, reset, and get honest about what matters most. One thing that became clearer to me: I need to take action on my health.

Not because anything’s wrong. I’m in good health overall.

I do, however, miss feeling like an athlete. I miss the routine and camaraderie I once had. And I’ve noticed how easy it’s been to stall when I’m not where I want to be.

So instead of waiting to feel ready, I got moving.

On Thursday, I walked 34,000 steps. No headphones. No distractions. Just the road and me.

The number wasn’t random. It’s inspired by Tim Pereira, a man walking across America to raise awareness for men’s mental health.

His campaign — The 34,000-Step Challenge — is named for the 34,000+ men who die by suicide in the U.S. each year.

Tim’s mission is to walk in their memory and to remind us all that movement, presence, and action matter.

I’m a big advocate for mental health, so I walked.

I started in Santa Monica and made my way to the Marina. For the first hour, my mind was racing. Work. Stress. Uncertainty. All of it was loud.

Eventually, the noise softened. My breath evened out. I began to notice more and judge less.

And then came Venice Beach.

If you’ve walked it, you know it’s sensory overload.

In just a few blocks: street vendors, tourists, tech bros, dog walkers, skaters, artists, influencers, unhoused neighbors, and a guy on an e-bike with a six-foot cat tower — his cat riding calmly up top like a captain.

It reminded me of a concept called Sonder — the awareness that every person around you is living a life as rich and complex as your own.

The walk made Sonder feel real.

Everyone I passed was in their story: chasing light for a photo. Helping their kid balance a bike. Laughing with friends. Just trying to get somewhere.

I didn’t suddenly feel “healed,” but I did feel smaller — in the best way. My worries didn’t disappear, but they shifted into perspective.

There’s a phrase I once heard: solvitur ambulando, which means, “it is solved by walking.” That day, it was.

I didn’t end the walk with a six-pack or a breakthrough life plan. But I felt healthier than the day before, and mentally calmer than I had been in weeks.

One more reflection that stuck with me: performance used to feel like a team sport.

In my teens and twenties, there was a built-in structure. School. Sports. Fellowship programs. Jobs with defined ladders. It was easier to keep momentum with camaraderie, accountability, and energy all around you.

But over time, that changes.

We move to new communities. We take on leadership roles. We support our teams and our families. And in doing so, the support structure around us often shrinks.

We still have friends, but now the time we spend with them is often limited to quick check-ins and planned-out catch-ups.

We still care about our goals, but it’s harder to carve out the time, especially when no one’s expecting us to show up.

It’s not in your head. It really is harder. And that’s okay.

Because once we name it, we can do something about it.

I think that’s part of why I started building Infinite Momentum — not just as a newsletter, but as a space for quiet support.

A gentle nudge toward the version of yourself you still want to build.

Even if you don’t have a whole team behind you, that doesn’t mean you’re alone.

Sometimes you just need to take the first step.

So this week, I walked. And for now, that’s enough.

Anything worth building takes time.

If you’re not sure where to start, borrow mine.

Go for a long walk. You might find your clarity along the way.

If you’d like to support men’s mental health, donate to Tim’s journey here.

Thanks for reading.

Keep going,
Eric