I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: there’s no glory in comfort.
The Death Race taught me that. The kind of brutal, soul-stripping event that doesn’t care how strong you think you are—it’ll break you just to see what’s underneath.
But I never expected to feel that same tension, that same grind, in the world of entrepreneurship.
And yet—here I am.
Two years into building Sound Surveillance, the startup I co-founded, and I’ve never felt more wrecked, proud, or alive.
This journey? It’s been cold, unpredictable, exhausting—and weirdly familiar.
Because launching a business from scratch?
It’s the new Death Race. And there’s no fucking finish line.
This Wasn’t My First Lap Around the Course
Before Sound Surveillance, I took a few swings.
It started with the Legend of the Death Race adventure camps—events designed to strip you down and rebuild you stronger. That project led to my hiring at Spartan Race, where I helped launch Spartan Endurance, and created the Hurricane Heat 12HR and 24HR events. Those were built from the same fuel that carried me through my own Death Race: suffer well, adapt, overcome.
After that, I launched Up, Beyond Media—a drone business without a clear niche, no real direction.
Just a camera in the sky and hope on the ground.
We had the gear. We had the hustle. But we didn’t have a target.
And without a target, you’re just flying in circles.
Then came SISU 24 PNW, which I built with my wife Erinn.
It’s now in its sixth year here in the Pacific Northwest, and it’s still going strong.
We’ve worked damn hard to make it what it is—a community-driven, purpose-filled endurance event. It was always meant to be a hobby business, and we’ve kept it that way by design. Not everything has to scale. Some things are sacred.
But Sound Surveillance?
This one’s different. This is the startup that’s meant to go big.
This Path Was Always in My Blood
I’ve known I wanted to build something for as long as I can remember.
I majored in entrepreneurship, minored in marketing, and later earned a master’s degree in public relations and advertising. I didn’t just collect degrees—I built a toolkit. And now, I’m actually using it.
Not a lot of people can say that.
I’ve been chasing this since 8th grade, when I was selling burned CDs on the back of a school bus.
Sound Surveillance is just the latest, most refined version of that same instinct: find the gap, fill it, own it.
Sound Surveillance Was Different From Day One
This time, the vision was clear:
Secure construction sites with tech that works and monitoring that doesn’t miss.
We weren’t just launching a product—we were solving a real problem.
We built something that construction PMs and superintendents actually needed.
And we built it lean. We’re still a small business enterprise, and everything we do—from marketing to installs—is hands-on and scrappy.
But clarity doesn’t mean comfort.
The Starting Line Is Just a Gut Check
Just like the Death Race, there’s no real start line.
No gun goes off. No one hands you a bib.
Sound Surveillance began with a conversation, a couple of cameras, and a whole lot of figuring it out as we went.
There was no perfect plan—just imperfect action and the promise to get better every day.
Obstacles Don’t Come with Instructions
Entrepreneurship is chaos.
You build one thing, and something else breaks.
A bid falls through. A competitor includes something for free. You realize you’ve got to rip your website apart and rebuild it from scratch—again.
You’re always tired.
You’re always learning.
And just like the DR, you’re always asking yourself, Why the hell am I doing this?
But if you’ve been through it before, you already know the answer.
Because You Love the Suffering
Here’s the truth no one tells you about building a business:
If you don’t enjoy the hard parts, you’re not gonna last.
For me, the 18-hour days, the freezing site installs, the late-night strategy sessions—they’re not just part of the process. They are the process.
Just last week, we overhauled our entire site for SEO.
Two days ago, we rewrote the brand voice from the ground up.
It finally sounds like us—sharp, real, and unapologetically clear.
It felt a lot like carrying a log up a mountain in the dark.
No map. Just momentum.
But we kept going. And it was worth it.
Teamwork Still Wins the Day
The biggest difference between the Death Race and this startup?
This time, I’m not doing it alone.
Ben and I have built this company together from the ground up. We had a great mentor who provided us the backbone and we’ve added the muscle and skin.
Every win. Every loss. Every lesson.
We’ve got monitoring partners, clients, vendors, and people who believe in what we’re doing.
It’s not just a business—it’s a crew. A mission.
And we’re starting to hit our stride.
There’s Still No Finish Line
The Death Race ends.
Business doesn’t.
This startup doesn’t hand out medals.
There’s no moment where you “make it.”
There’s just growth. Erosion. Rebuild. Repeat.
And if you’ve learned to love the suffering, there’s nothing more fulfilling.
If you’ve ever thought about starting your own business—do it.
But know this: there are no perfect moments.
No map. No guarantee.
Just movement.
And if you want to see what I’ve been building since the Death Race days, check out Sound Surveillance.
It’s not just a company.
It’s the culmination of every misstep, every lesson, and every stubborn step forward I’ve taken since I was slinging CDs on a school bus.