Why Hardworking Fathers Need a Reset More Than a Day Off

We made it to the summit just as the sun started to rise. It was 38 degrees that morning in the Adirondacks. My son was a little chilly, so he sat and bundled up. I just stood there for a minute, out of breath, pack heavy, mind heavier and realized how much I needed this. Not the climb. The pause. Then out of the blue my son looks at me and asks me to "Snuggle Him Up" It's always one of my favorite phrases he uses that reminds me I have very little time left to be able to take advantage of these moments, before he's too cool to ask Dad to do that.

Like a lot of dads, my weeks are a blur, early mornings, late nights, deadlines, hockey practice, bills, house projects, and that constant low hum of what’s next? Somewhere between being a provider, a leader, and a husband, it’s easy to forget there’s still a man underneath all of that who needs space to breathe.

That’s why these moments matter, the reset.

When you step out of the noise long enough to just be a dad. Not the scheduler, not the fixer, not the guy holding everything together, just Dad.

Up there on the mountain, watching my son scan the horizon, I thought about how often we tell our kids to “slow down,” “take it in,” “be present.” But we rarely take our own advice. We tell them not to rush through life, while we’re sprinting from one responsibility to the next, wearing exhaustion like a badge of honor.

But here’s the truth... burnout doesn’t make you a better father, being grounded does.

We don’t reset to escape our responsibilities. We reset to come back sharper, calmer, and more intentional with the people who need us most. It’s not weakness, it’s wisdom.

That’s the heart of Forge & Freedom. To remind men that we’re not just built to grind we’re built to grow. Sometimes that means stepping back, getting outside, and remembering who we are when we’re not checking off boxes.

So if you’re a dad who’s been running on fumes, here’s your reminder, take the reset. Even if it’s one sunrise. Even if it’s one hour. Even if it’s just a walk down the street with your kid.

Because one day, they’ll remember that, not how tired you were, not how many hours you worked, but that you showed up.

From the Forge,

Zachary