Joe Miller:
Garrett, Garret Fry. Welcome to Titans of Transition, man.

Garrett Frey:
I love it, Joe. If I call you Mr. Miller, you just can’t get mad at me. I’ve already tried to clear this with Keith.

Joe Miller:
Okay, well, that’s a good segue into what I was going to do as an introduction. I was going to talk about the Three Amigos. Garrett is a close friend of my son Keith, my oldest child. We were in Danville, California, and they were going to high school together. The Three Amigos were Garrett, Chad Wold, and Keith Miller. You guys were wild and crazy. You loved automobiles, you loved fixing up crazy machines. Keith had what I think was the bomber of the crew, kind of the off-road machine. And I think Chad might just have had a normal muscle car, no?

Garrett Frey:
No, Chad had the ’67 Mustang. He had that candy apple red Mustang with the white racing stripes. Gosh, he had a good one. But we had some fun. I’m surprised that you are still alive and kicking with all the stress we might’ve put you through.

Joe Miller:
There you go. Yeah. And then you refer to your vehicle as The Beast or something. What did you call it?

Garrett Frey:
Keith named it. That’s how it came to be The Beast.

Joe Miller:
And Keith, with his Chevelle—he thought it was the best thing ever, but it was a money pit. He had high-speed gears in it, so it was redlining at 50 miles an hour or something like that.

Garrett Frey:
Well, you may not know this story. We got pulled over one night on Diablo Road, and the police officer stopped us because the car had no taillights. The taillights had actually fallen out—that was the beauty of this thing. Money pit to say the least. I’ll never forget: we were sitting on the side of the road so long with the lights on that the battery died. So we got out to push it, with the police officer behind us, and Keith spun the tires for like 30 feet. The officer just looked at us and said, “Boys, you need to go home.”

Joe Miller:
I believe it. I’ll tell just one other story and then we’ll get into the interview portion rather than just reminiscing. We had the typical Dodge minivan. I don’t know where Barb and I were, but we went away somewhere. You guys were out with the van one night, and Keith and I drove it the next day. When I drove it at night, the lights were moving around as I went around corners. Obviously the mounting had been destroyed.

Keith finally told me, after some coercion, that you guys thought it’d be fun on trash day to see how high you could launch trash bins up in the air. I don’t know if that’s the complete story, but that’s what I remember.

Garrett Frey:
I was not the driver that evening, but that might have happened. I did break the entire window out of the side of that van though. Yes, that was a wonderful van.

Joe Miller:
When you had to put the door back on—or was it just the window?

Garrett Frey:
We did break the door off also. The sliding door. Again, I’m surprised you were okay.

Joe Miller:
Part of the reason I was okay, and this connects to the whole backstory of Titans of Transition, is that I was busy chasing a career and working like crazy. I wasn’t noticing enough of what was going on at home, which my wife can attest to.

Anyway, Keith and his siblings nudged me that I should have you on the podcast. I didn’t know what you were doing, but then I came across your podcast and your business around real estate—coaching real estate agents, I believe. Funny enough, one of your agents helped us sell our home in Colorado when we retired and moved to Florida. She mentioned your company name and I thought, “Wait, isn’t that my son’s friend?” She was wonderful, by the way.

So tell us a little bit about what you’re doing. You’ve calmed down, you’ve got a real career. All three of you guys have done really well, which back then I never would’ve dreamed of. You’ve made the parents proud. Take it from here, Garrett.

Garrett Frey:
I love it. It’s funny: obviously we’ve all done well and figured out our own paths in life. My dad used to say when he was a kid, he was part of what they called the Bad Boys Club. He and his group were always pushing the limits, having fun, but they were also the ones in their industry who really set the bar and made things happen. He would look at my friends and me and say, “I’ve seen this before. You guys will be just fine.”

So, very fun to be talking to you today. It’s been a crazy journey. I got into coaching really by accident. I’d been in sales a lot of my life, and I understood sales well—you can always get a job anywhere if you know how to sell. I always knew I’d make it because I could sell.

But then an opportunity came up to start a coaching program. My dad opened the door for me. I said, “Will you train me?” and he said, “Sure.” The next day he sent me a client. I asked, “What do I do?” He said, “You’re a smart kid. You’ll figure it out.” That was literally the extent of my training in coaching.

That was around 2005. I began building the coaching program myself, solo for about eight years—bringing people in, helping them personally. We worked alongside another company called Ninja Selling. They handled the training side; we ran the coaching side. I owned Team Frey Inc., which operated as Ninja Coaching. We did that for 20 years.

Joe Miller:
Coaching program, yeah.

Garrett Frey:
We had an incredible run. We ended up with 28 coaches—at one point 30. We were coaching just shy of 600 people across the U.S. Things were going well, but it became clear we were no longer in alignment with the other company. A couple years back, things came to a head. We either had to work it out or make a hard decision.

We ended up shutting down after 20 years, literally turning off the lights. We let everyone out of their contracts and told them, “You’re free to go. Clients can go wherever you want.”

Garrett Frey:
You’re along for my ride, I just realized.

Joe Miller:
Right. What I meant is, in a more traditional sales setting, that customer list is extremely valuable. To allow them to take their clients—that was kind of you.

Garrett Frey:
Well, there are two sides to it. A lot of people came to us for coaching because of that other company and the model they loved. The model itself was incredible. So to suddenly say, “Hey guys, you’re coming with us and we’re going to do it differently now,” well that’s not what they signed up for. It just wouldn’t have been right.

Joe Miller:
Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve seen that in my industry too. People first latch on to the “what”—answers and frameworks—then maybe start to explore the “how.” But rarely do programs go deep enough to touch on the real challenges: motivation, mindset, and tough decisions. That’s where coaching really comes in. Transformations happen there.

Garrett Frey:
One hundred percent. That’s exactly why I started coaching. I watched people go through the training, come away excited, and then they’d circle back months later saying, “I’m back again, nothing has really changed.” Meanwhile, I had applied the systems myself and knew it worked. But I could see the missing piece—they weren’t integrating it. That’s when I thought: I understand people, psychology, the mindset traps, the roadblocks. I can coach. And that’s what I leaned into.

We let everybody go when we closed things down. Eighteen of the twenty-eight coaches went off on their own. Most of the clients followed their coaches, which was fascinating because that was their choice. We told them, “Go wherever you want, you’re free.” Only about ten coaches chose to stay with the old company; the rest went independent.

Around that time, the podcast co‑host I’d done almost 500 episodes with called me. I told him, “Look, if you think this is too risky, I totally understand—you’ve got a young family and a new house.” But a week later he rang me up: “Okay, dude, I’m in. What are we building?” Two days later he flew out. We sat out on the back porch with multiple laptops, throwing around ideas: what if it’s this, what if we build that, what if we do the things we never could before?

That’s what led to where we are today, to our own coaching company—Life at 10 Tenths. We get to call the shots and have all the fun. It’s been just a little over a year now.

Joe Miller:
Wow, that’s a great name. But you’ve got to explain it. 10/10ths, that’s like 100%.

Garrett Frey:
Yes, it means full out—maximum. Racing has always been a passion of mine. If you had asked me as a kid, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I would have said, race car driver or comedian. My dad, though, gave me the “be realistic” speech: wrong family, not enough money, so it wasn’t going to happen.

Later, when I was around 30, he actually apologized. He said, “I took one of your dreams away. I thought I was protecting you, but I realize now that was my limitation, not yours.” He gave that dream back to me. That really opened my eyes. I started chasing racing again.

At racetracks, they talk about conditions: in the morning the track might be damp, so they’ll say, this is a 7/10ths session—drive at 70%. When they say 10/10ths, it means maximum, the car and driver completely pushed to their limit in those conditions.

When we were brainstorming names for the new company, I texted my partner Matt one morning: “What about 10/10ths?” He wrote back, “What if we call it Life at 10 Tenths?” That nailed it. Now we’re thinking maybe to shorten it to just 10 Tenths—it is a long name—but it stuck.

It tied directly to our passion for driving, but also expressed our belief that work should not just be about business metrics. Many sales systems said, “Make more income per hour so you can have a life.” But they never emphasized the life part. That’s what we wanted to bring in.

Joe Miller:
That’s awesome. I love how you connect it to racing and passion—it really illustrates what you’re about. In my coaching too, I meet people who know the mechanics—time management, productivity, the “how.” But deep down, something’s missing. I mostly work with people in mid‑career. They’re competent, often successful, but restless, maybe burned out.

They think, “I’m not managing my time well,” or “I don’t know how to say no,” but underneath it’s deeper. They’re at an inflection point—realizing that what they’ve been pursuing may not be what they truly want. Sometimes they switch careers, sometimes they step away for a year to travel, or pursue something unconventional.

They’ve developed great skills—sales, technology, leadership—but it’s not aligned with who they are. I emphasize to them the importance of identifying gifts—things that are natural, not developed. Like you: selling comes naturally. If people keep fighting against their core wiring, the price is exhaustion, health issues, relational breakdowns.

Garrett Frey:
Totally.

Joe Miller:
And those natural gifts can be applied in any direction. If you’re gifted at selling, you could sell rocket fuel to Elon Musk or widgets to Amazon—it doesn’t matter. You’ll approach it differently, in a way that fits who you are. That’s the key.

That’s why I created another side project: Leadership Inklings. It comes from the Oxford writers’ group—Lewis, Tolkien, and others—who met in a pub called The Eagle and Child. They brought their manuscripts, challenged one another, gave feedback. Community plus creativity. I love that.

It resembles what I try to build in coaching communities. And Garrett, when you and I talked before, we noticed how similar our approaches are—even though we come from different generations. Different venues, but the same ideas.

Garrett Frey:
Yeah! We’re in the same world, building the same thing.

What you said earlier about burnout resonates. A lot of people are simply chasing other people’s goals. We’re herd animals—we tend to track what the people around us are doing. If our neighbor buys a new car, we think, maybe I should too. Same with income goals or career tracks.

So I encourage people to stop and ask: what do you actually want? Often they’re totally out of touch with themselves.

And here’s another thing I believe: people are usually only as good as they need to be. If they don’t truly need to level up, they won’t keep the discipline. So when they’re beating themselves up for not hitting ever‑higher goals, I ask: do you need this, or just want it to impress others?

You’ve probably seen it: someone sets a big stretch goal, works hard for six months, then says, “You know what? I’m good. I don’t actually need to hit that.” Because they’ve hit their personal “enough.” And that’s why so many people burn out—chasing someone else’s version of success.

Joe Miller:
That is really, really prominent in a lot of conversations I have. People think they have clarity, but often it’s someone else’s clarity—echoes from parents, mentors, culture. For example:
“My dad was an attorney, so I’ll be an attorney.” Or, “My dad wanted me to be successful. I can either be a dentist, doctor, or lawyer.” They adopt that path, but it’s not truly theirs.

This ties back to what I said earlier about gifts. Sometimes they have alignment, but many times they don’t. I’ve talked to attorneys who said, “I was okay at it, but I didn’t really like it.” And it comes late.

That’s the power of coaching: a coach helps you discover clarity for yourself. People get confused between mentor and coach—especially in niche industries. They hire a coach thinking they’ll get a mentor who will tell them exactly what moves to make. But coaching is different. Coaching is more like an athletic coach: What are your goals? What do you want? Okay, now I’ll hold you accountable and push you. But the very first task is the clarity work you mentioned.

Garrett Frey:
Yes, exactly. I’m glad you brought that up. People toss around words: coach, mentor, accountability partner. They’re not the same.

An accountability partner is just a friend who checks in: “Hey, did you do what you said?” Valuable, but you shouldn’t pay for that—it’s usually free. A mentor has deep smarts from experience—advice, tips, tricks. Coaching includes small pieces of those, but primarily it’s different.

Michael Phelps’ coach is a perfect illustration. He meets Michael at a set time. If Michael is late, he leaves. He’s not going to wait around. That forces accountability. During their sessions, the coach tells him: Swim laps. Then Phelps swims while the coach observes. Afterward they debrief—what’s working, what’s not, what adjustments to make. He might say “enter the water with your hands differently, change your kick.” Then Phelps tries again, returns, they debrief again.

That’s a true coach—making fine‑tuning adjustments, seeing from the outside. But the word “coach” in business has been broken. A lot of people either just have mentors or accountability partners and call them coaches.

Joe Miller:
Right. And that distinction is important for anyone listening.

When I was certified with the John Maxwell Team, one of the lead coaches, Christian Simpson, used an exercise on juggling. We were thousands in a room, broken into small groups. Most of us had no clue how to juggle. Each group assigned a coach, a juggler, and an observer.

The “coach” had no real juggling knowledge. It forced the coach to be deeply observational. Over time, unbelievably, most learners at least managed to juggle a little.

That illustrated how coaching isn’t about domain expertise—it’s about presence, awareness, and feedback. Coaches don’t have to come from your industry. It can be a plus, but also a trap. Industry coaches may rely too much on their knowledge, rather than observation.

Garrett Frey:
Exactly! I see people in real estate who only want a coach with a real estate background. But often, what they get is someone who just says, “Let me show you how I built my business. Copy me.” That doesn’t work, because their gifts aren’t yours.

That’s why having a coach outside your industry can be powerful. They see differently. They can tell you things you don’t notice.

When people applied to be coaches with me, some just pitched their accomplishments. “I’ve sold this, I’ve done that.” I’d tell them, what you want is a stage—that’s teaching or panel work, not coaching. Real coaching is different. And many who succeed in business aren’t necessarily good coaches. Sometimes they hurt people, because they force others into chasing someone else’s goals.

Joe Miller:
Yes. And that also feeds the “quick fix” mentality: “Just tell me exactly what to do so I can succeed fast.”

Reminds me—I was watching Chris Hemsworth’s Limitless series with Barb. He was being pushed to learn an unfamiliar skill from scratch—music. They picked drums. The kicker: in two months, he’d perform with Ed Sheeran live on stage.

He had a local drummer coaching him. After the first lesson, the coach basically said on camera: “We’re in trouble. Chris has no rhythm.” And rhythm is the most basic prerequisite!

To his credit, he worked his butt off, and managed that one song. But he was totally outside his natural gifting. Competent enough for the occasion, yes. But not sustainable.

That’s a perfect analogy to people looking for the magic formula. It only works if it aligns with who you are.

Garrett Frey:
Exactly. Let’s take fatigue. If your plan isn’t built around your gifts and passions, you burn out. That’s why the “just do it” mentality fails. People say, “I’ll just do it, I’ll buckle down and grind.” Maybe for a week it works, then they fizzle out and beat themselves up.

My business partner Matt Benelli reframed this beautifully. He said, forget work‑life balance—it’s always a zero‑sum trade of energy. Instead, aim for harmonization. Work and life woven together, aligned with who you are.

That’s when people thrive long term. They don’t feel drained. Work stops feeling like “work.” They build their business in ways they enjoy. Like, some agents kill it by running ads, open houses, hustle. But I’ve met agents who simply play volleyball every night with friends. That’s their circle, their community. Business comes naturally. That’s fun, that’s sustainable.

And that’s the beauty of real coaching: learning everything about someone, then designing a plan that harmonizes with their personality and gifts.

Joe Miller:
Yes! Harmonization instead of balance. And authenticity plays a big part.

If your passions are compartmentalized away from work, you show up fractured—not your true self. People sense it. And nothing kills sales faster than lack of authenticity. Relationships, too.

Garrett Frey:
Right. Humans are wired from ancient times to detect authenticity. Survival depended on it—can I trust this person, or am I in danger? Our brains still do that constantly—reading micro‑signals. You smell a piece of chicken that’s “off” and instantly know. You don’t even fully smell it; your brain just triggers a feeling: something’s wrong.

Same with people. If you’re not authentic, others will sense it a mile away. That’s why authentic people thrive—and phonies get weeded out quickly.

Joe Miller:
Exactly. That reminds me of the old saying: people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. Authenticity plus real value—that’s what builds trust.

But the opposite—hooks, traps, fake reciprocity—people smell it instantly. Sadly, that tactic has been taught endlessly in sales. And buyers today are more distrustful than ever.

Garrett Frey:
Where I fell into coaching, I literally fell in love with it from the very first moment. Then one day it hit me: “Wow, I can not only love this—I can actually make a living at it.”

What drew me in was the act of opening up someone’s world—like lifting the hood of a car. Looking at the wires and parts: What’s connected? What’s broken? What can run more efficiently? Then trying to rebuild it so it actually runs faster and smoother.

That became my passion. My dad used to tell me, “You’re a smart kid, you’ll figure it out. You’ve been doing this your whole life and don’t even know it.” That phrase finally clicked for me—coaching was a natural ability hiding in plain sight.

The results confirmed it. The average time a client stays with me now is around nine years. I’ve even coached some for twenty years—weekly or biweekly, continuously.

That’s another part of coaching I love, Joe—I wonder if you enjoy this too. You get to see people’s journeys across long seasons: singlehood, dating, marriage, children, careers, even into grandkids. You lived those changes alongside them. Most “business coaches” think it’s just: “Show up, hit your numbers.” But a real coach dives deep, sometimes bordering on therapy—because people trust you with everything.

Joe Miller:
Yes. I’ve built some long-term friendships out of coaching too. Nobody I actively coach now goes back twenty years, but many continue to reach out, even outside engagements.

Interestingly, even after engagements end, the desire in me for them to succeed never goes away. I still want that person to flourish.

But here’s the challenge I’ve been facing more as I get older: learning to guard myself from helping people who genuinely don’t want help. I have to be honest—sometimes I’ve underpriced myself, probably because of that compulsion to help. But I’ve grown intolerant of clients who don’t show up. Similar to your Michael Phelps example: if I get stood up a couple times, that’s it. I’ll finish out what they paid for, but I won’t keep pushing a rope.

Garrett Frey:
That’s interesting, because I shaped my model against that very early. For the past eighteen-plus years, I’ve required all coaching to be month-to-month. No six‑month or yearly contracts.

A lot of coaches told me, “We need 6- or 12‑month contracts—it protects us.” But I felt differently. Contracts can make us lazy: you feel like there’s a safety net, so if a session or two bombs, you still have a client. Month‑to‑month keeps me sharp—it means I have to show up 100% every session. They can walk away at any time.

Joe Miller:
Good point. I use a modified version. I do require an initial three‑month minimum upfront. Why? It’s my qualifying filter. If they won’t even give me three months, they don’t really want to engage. After that? Month‑to‑month.

Garrett Frey:
We’re very similar, then. I don’t demand a minimum fee upfront, but I tell people plainly: if you’re not willing to put in at least six months of effort, we shouldn’t even start.

Also important—something you’ll relate to—I always hold a complimentary one‑hour session before we sign. What’s the point? To figure out one thing: are they coachable?

Joe Miller:
Yes.

Garrett Frey:
How do I know? I count the “Yeah, buts.” If I share an idea and they respond, “Yeah, but this won’t work because…” or “Yeah, but that’s different in my case…”—the more of those I hear, the less coachable they are.

Contrast that with the clients who say, “I’ll try it. Okay, let’s see what happens. Let’s talk about it afterward.” Now, that’s a coachable person. It’s the Phelps analogy again: the swimmer tries, comes back, reports results, iterates.

That’s how you get growth and refinement. Those fine‑tuning tweaks are what I’ve loved most all these years.

Joe Miller:
Exactly. That’s sales qualification too—you’re listening for the first real “Yes” in their mindset. If I only hear “Yes, but” or “No, because,” I know it isn’t going to work.

Garrett Frey:
The worst, actually, are situations where people come saying, “Well, my manager told me I have to sign up for coaching.” That’s a disaster.

Joe Miller:
I’ve been there. Sold corporate “bundles” of coaching and—yeah, those are strange. Companies think they’re helping, but if the employee didn’t choose it? Very tough engagement.

Garrett Frey:
Exactly. Even worse is when the company pays for the coaching. The employee doesn’t have skin in the game. That model is usually a nightmare. Sure, you’ll get paid, but the referrals, the engagement, the long‑term growth? Practically zero.

Joe Miller:
Yes—unless you carefully design it with the manager and coachee aligned, which is tricky. I’ve co‑launched internal coaching programs, and those three‑way expectations (company, manager, employee) are hard to balance. That’s when, sometimes, the right answer is literally, “No, I won’t take your money.”

Garrett Frey:
Absolutely. I once had an owner bring me five of his people, saying, “If this works out, I’ll blow your program up—send you so much business.” After some months, he called me twice during my son’s school performance. On the second call, when I picked up, he said: “If I’m bringing you this much business, you answer when I call.”

I calmly told him: “We can end everything right now. I’ll contact your people individually, but we’re done.”

He tried to laugh it off, but no. Power move, not healthy. And not good for anyone. That’s why I stick to authentic, one‑to‑one client commitments.

Joe Miller:
Yes. And just a word to listeners—Garrett and I are geeking out deep into coaching mechanics. But the reason we’re diving here is: these are the structural realities that make coaching actually work. Without mutual trust, confidentiality, accountability, and true willingness, it just doesn’t happen.

Garrett Frey:
Exactly.

And, Joe, to circle back—when we started talking about your show, Titans of Transition, I mentioned something personal. After we shut down our company, I went through about a six‑month identity crisis. That shift shook me hard.

Because when your phone rings 20 times a day for years, and then one day it doesn’t? It’s like someone shut off the lights in your world. My wife and I sat on the kitchen floor crying. We asked: did we do something wrong? Should we have shut this company sooner? Did we mess it up?

It was bewildering.

Joe Miller:
Yes. Transitions—especially those that are thrust upon you—can unmoor your entire sense of worth and safety. Identity gets blown apart. Suddenly it switches to: “I’m the person without the job, I’m not the VP anymore.” It’s loss, grief, disorientation.

And this is exactly when having a coach or guide is so valuable.

Garrett Frey:
If I had to look back at my life and offer advice to my younger self, I’d say first: don’t take yourself too seriously.

There’s so much fear laid on us—needing to hit certain levels, to look a certain way, to measure up by external definitions of “success.” That pressure strips away the joy of living. Enjoy the ride. Success will come.

And for me, real success is in people—the long‑term relationships. Who is still standing with you at the end? That’s what matters. I joke that I’m a “collector of people.” Maintaining close relationships requires being authentic. If you’re faking it, it won’t last.

The other big principle? Self‑talk. Most people underestimate how powerful it is. We’re told to write affirmations. But in reality, our mind already produces affirmations all day long. That inner voice that whispers: You’re not good enough. You’ll never hit that goal. You’re falling behind. Those are affirmations, perfectly worded. They constantly reinforce the current reality—even if it’s not what we want.

But you can rewrite the script. Your subconscious mind doesn’t know the difference between imagined and real. If you deliberately replace the negative picture with a new vision, and repeat it consistently, your brain eventually forces the pictures to match. That’s where affirmations work—not as magic wishing, but as rewiring.

Even in personal conflict—say you’re fighting with a spouse—if instead of dwelling on annoyances you focus on what you love about them? The dynamic changes completely.

Joe Miller:
Yes. That’s spot on. This ties directly into awareness—being conscious of the narrative playing in your head, then choosing to own it instead of letting it own you.

And it connects to legacy too—the way relationships, loved ones, and friends carry forward who we were. That’s the deeper story.

I also use visualization heavily in my coaching. Whether with individuals or corporate strategy—the best planning starts with where do you want to be, not what could we do from our current state. I ask clients to close their eyes and really walk through a day in their best future. Use all senses: what they see, feel, hear. Because as you said, the brain doesn’t fully distinguish—it begins working to align reality with vision.

Garrett Frey:
Exactly. The subconscious mind’s number one job is to maintain sanity—to make the inner and outer pictures match.

So, if you’re constantly affirming failure—“I can’t find a job, doors keep closing”—your brain keeps serving you experiences that reinforce that. But if you build a detailed sensory vision of what you truly want—what the waves sound like, the feel of sand beneath your feet—the brain says either stop dreaming or make this real.

And then the magic is just subtle changes over time that eventually bridge the gap. Some shifts happen in days. Some take a decade. But it works.

One note: people often sabotage themselves by obsessing over the how. They build the vision and immediately think, “But wait, how exactly will I do this?” That overwhelms them. It’s okay to say, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.” Keep the vision. The steps will emerge.

Another distinction I use: clarify whether your goal is a to do, a to be, a to have, or a to give. Example: a beach house for me isn’t a “status symbol to be.” It’s a “to give”—something I want for my wife to enjoy. That clarity prevents chasing someone else’s dream. Otherwise, you end up lost, pursuing the wrong “why.”

Joe Miller:
Beautifully said, Garrett.

Well buddy, we could keep going, but I need to prep for my leadership communities this afternoon. This has been fantastic.

For listeners—let’s make sure people can find you.

Garrett Frey:
Yes, absolutely. If you want to connect with me:

• Facebook: I’m easy to find as Garrett Frey.
• Company: Life at 10 Tenths.
• Instagram and YouTube channel as Life at 10 Tenths.
• We even have an app with all our podcast episodes.
• Or simply email me: garrett@lifeat10tenths.com.

I’m also a big believer in phone calls—I love actually talking with people—so my number is public.

At Life at 10 Tenths, we run one‑on‑one coaching, group coaching, and host our community called the 11 Circle, a place where entrepreneurs and industry leaders connect and celebrate journeys together.

Joe Miller:
Perfect. Garrett, thank you for such an enriching conversation. I really enjoyed it. Hopefully we’ll connect again soon.

Garrett Frey:
We will, Mr. Miller. Thank you.