GOLDEN PINKY

Birth Name: Jeff Florence

Age: 36

F3 Start Date: November 29, 2017

Main AO Posts: Basecamp, Greyhound, Jaguarundi, Robin’s Hood

What led you to F3, and how did your first post challenge or inspire you in unexpected ways?

My M and I were living in Chapel Hill, NC, from 2015 to 2018 while she was in Pediatric Residency. She was building lifelong friendships, but I was stuck in a Sad Clown cycle: wake up, work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. My “friends” were basically man-dates—guys I met through her relationships.

The closest thing I had to a “friend” was my neighbor, Ben Sherman. Every time we ran into each other, he’d mention this men’s workout group and push me to try it. For two years, I made every excuse to avoid it. Then, one night, another neighbor, Daniel Taylor, wouldn’t stop badgering me about it. I gave in, not because I wanted to go, but because I wanted him to shut up. I figured I’d show up, breeze through d

At this point, I was still certain I wasn’t coming back, but then something started to shift. Coco took a knee, and the PAX gathered around him, placing hands on one another in a Ball of Man. As Coco asked for prayer requests and shared his message, I felt a sense of connection and fellowship I hadn’t felt in years. I realized I was missing the deep friendships that come from real community with other men.

As we limped back to the car, Marky Mark (Ben) and Boyardee (Dan) asked me what I thought. They mentioned a neighbor who’d tried F3 but didn’t return. That struck a chord with me. Between finding something I was missing and the idea of quitting, I made a resolve to come back. Still not completely convinced, but I’d give it one more try.

By Friday, I could barely move from 100+ burpees on Wednesday, but I dragged myself back for another beatdown. It wasn’t immediate, but over time, I realized I wasn’t just looking for a workout—I was looking for brothers. After 8 months of pursuing fellowship, by the time we moved to Austin, I wasn’t leaving just a workout group—I was leaving my brothers. And because they had become family, I knew I’d keep coming back to see them, time and time again.

Before you joined F3, what was life like for you, and what made you realize something needed to change?

GP: Before F3, my life felt like a monotonous cycle: wake up, go to work, come home, eat, watch TV, and sleep. It was lukewarm, bland, and without purpose—a soul-sucking existence that left me questioning if this was all there was after college. The joy, flavor, and sense of meaning I craved were nowhere to be found. The thought of enduring decades like this felt unbearable.

Without anything to fill that void, I chose to numb it. Alcohol became both my escape and my purpose. I would survive each day just to make it home and drink. Social situations, which I hated, became bearable only after drinking enough to make me “fun.” I’d go to happy hours, drink too much, and then gamble with getting home safely on North Carolina’s winding roads.

I had become an embarrassment and a liability to my wife. Every morning after a night of blacking out felt like a grim version of The Hangover, piecing together what had happened and how badly I’d screwed things up, fearful her patience with me had finally run out. I told myself it was just an alcohol problem, but the truth was deeper: it was a life problem. I was using vices to survive each joyless day, running out the clock without ever truly living.

It's important to note that my alcoholism continued even after I started F3. I joined F3 on November 29, 2017, but I didn’t stop drinking until January 1, 2020. For over two years, I was in F3 and still an alcoholic. I’d work out and strive to be a better man in the morning, only to turn around and drink uncontrollably at night. Then, I’d wake up, rebound, and do it all over again the next day.

But, F3 didn’t just help me change—it helped save my life. Initially, I thought I was taking a break from alcohol – call it a New Year’s Resolution – but I fully intended to go back. Then came the pivotal conversation with Newton while rucking. He asked how my break from alcohol was going, and I told him it was fine, though I was secretly looking forward to drinking again. He told me he was proud of the decision I had made, that it wasn’t easy, but it was a decision he wished more men would make. He said I could be an example for others. That was the moment I realized I could make sobriety a permanent part of my life.

It is because of Newton, whom I’ll forever be grateful for, that I get to celebrate five years of sobriety on January 1, 2025. It is because of the men of F3 that I continue to embrace discomfort and push forward. Now, other men—and most importantly, my sons—can see that they don’t have to be controlled by alcohol or anything else. They don’t have to use substances to numb pain or to be the life of the party. They can embrace discomfort, find healthy ways to manage life’s stresses, and ultimately find joy in their own existence.

What impact has F3 had on your life, and what lessons or moments stand out as defining your journey?

GP: F3 has completely reshaped my understanding of life, leadership, and how I handle challenges. Before F3, I believed life was about reaching a place of comfort—a destination where you achieved your goals, and everything just clicked. Fitness was the same way in my mind: once you got fit, you stayed fit, and that was that. But F3 taught me that life isn’t about finding comfort; it’s about embracing the discomfort. Growth happens when you’re willing to face the grind every single day.

This mindset shift—from avoiding challenges to embracing them—has been life-changing. Looking back, I’m haunted by the times I quit when things got hard. Football, basketball, classes, relationships—at the time, it felt like quitting was the easy and logical choice. But now, I can’t help but wonder: what if I had dug deeper? What if I had pushed through instead of walking away? Would I be in a better place today? Those questions don’t define me anymore because F3 gave me a new perspective: you don’t quit when things get hard. You endure. You embrace the suck.

The beauty of this lesson is how it extends into every area of life. Whether it’s a workout that’s completely draining me, the challenges of parenting, stressful days at work, or even the depressive battles in my head, I’ve learned to stop running from it. I lean into the struggle because I know it’s shaping me into someone stronger, tougher, and more resilient. And every time I endure, I’m more prepared for the next challenge life throws my way.

Leadership has been another area of transformation for me. I’ve always been a bit of a reluctant leader—introverted and naturally inclined to stay in the background. But F3 has shown me that leadership isn’t about being the loudest or the most outgoing. It’s about showing up, stepping up when called, and being willing to make hard decisions. Serving as Nantan was an incredible experience that stretched me in ways I never imagined. It wasn’t always easy, and leadership can feel lonely at times, especially when you have to make tough calls. But I learned that leadership isn’t about being popular—it’s about doing what’s right for the group, even if it’s uncomfortable.

Still, the role I cherish most in F3 isn’t Nantan or any other formal title—it’s simply being a PAX, a brother. Some of the most meaningful moments I’ve had weren’t about leading from the front but walking side by side with another man. It’s in those moments—talking, checking in, and sharing life—that the magic happens. When we get past surface-level conversations and open up about the real struggles, that’s when F3 shines brightest. I’ve been lifted up countless times by another PAX, whether through encouragement, advice, or just knowing someone has my back. And I strive to do the same for others because that’s what this brotherhood is all about: being there for one another, sharing the weight, and carrying each other through life’s toughest moments.

F3 has changed my perspective on life. It’s taught me that life doesn’t get easier, but I get stronger. And as I’ve gone through this journey, I’ve been blessed to have these men walk beside me, encouraging me, holding me accountable, and showing me that I’m never alone in this battle.

What’s been the hardest challenge you’ve faced—either in life or in F3—and what did it teach you about perseverance?
GP: Fatherhood, without a doubt, is the most rewarding and yet the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. I love being a dad, and I love my boys more than life itself, but fatherhood is harder than any physical challenge I’ve ever done—even a Murph a day for a month (and I’ve done that too). Some of the lowest points in my life have come from the struggles of fatherhood. The guilt, the regret, and the helplessness you feel when things spiral out of your control—it’s overwhelming.

A couple of years ago, I found myself at my lowest. We’d just returned from a family trip that went terribly wrong. I was already feeling defeated, and instead of finding support, I misinterpreted my wife’s feedback as proof that I was failing as a dad and a husband. In my mind, I twisted her words into something destructive: that I was the problem, that my family would be better off without me. That lie began to take root, and it terrified me how quickly it grew.

One night at a concert, the lead singer shared a message of hope for anyone feeling alone or battling thoughts of suicide. But instead of hearing encouragement, I latched onto the word suicide. I thought, maybe the whole world really would be better off without me. The next morning, I hit rock bottom. I dropped my son off at daycare, sat in the car, and felt like I couldn’t go on. For the first time, I was alone with my thoughts, and they were winning. I didn’t know what to do. I was too ashamed to reach out to my F3 brothers, but I knew I needed help. I called my mom.

That phone call didn’t fix everything, but it gave me enough pause to pull back from the edge. It reminded me of the truth: my wife needed me. My boys needed me. My F3 brothers needed me. That moment was a wake-up call, and it marked the beginning of my journey to truly confront the weight I was carrying—not just as a dad but as a man.

Through F3, I’ve learned that it’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to not have it all figured out. But it’s not okay to try to carry an unbearable weight alone. Perseverance isn’t about doing something extraordinary all the time. Sometimes, it’s just about surviving the next moment. Sometimes, it’s about mustering enough strength to ask others for help when you need it and trusting that others will step in to lift you when you’re down. There is strength in reaching out, even when it feels impossible.

Fatherhood is still hard, and there are still days when I feel like I’m failing. But I’ve learned to see those struggles as part of the journey. They’re not a reflection of my worth; they’re opportunities to grow, to learn, and to show my boys what it means to keep fighting. That’s the legacy I want to leave for them—not one of perfection, but one of perseverance, love, and grace.

To anyone who finds themselves in that dark place, I want you to know: you’re not alone. Don’t let the lies win. There’s a group of men here for you, ready to help carry the weight when you can’t. Sometimes, it’s not about moving mountains—it’s just about not giving up.