Ten years ago, I saw an event called the D10 Decathlon profiled on CNBC. Ten events in one day, designed to crown the fittest person on Wall Street, with all proceeds going to pediatric cancer research.

I was immediately intrigued. At the time I was in my early 40s, professionally satisfied but personally starting to feel like I was losing a step. I was fighting the dad bod and juggling that familiar midlife tension between family, business, fitness, and the relentless pace of life. 

As many of you have experienced, the thing that often gets lost in that shuffle as men is our well-being. Who we are. What we need out of life, not just what those in our lives need from us.

The D10 arrived at that crossroads for me. This looked like something that could give me purpose. Something I could train for. Something to prove to myself, and to my two sons (almost teens at that point), that I wasn’t quietly fading into the background.

A couple things you need to know:

I wasn’t a college athlete. I’d never run a 400m or an 800m. I hadn’t done a 40-yard dash or a broad jump since eighth grade. But the D10 felt fair. Titles didn’t matter. Money didn’t matter. You showed up, competed, and put up the best numbers you could.

And when I saw that it was coming to my hometown, Houston, I went all in.

I hired a track coach and a strength coach. I even recruited a buddy who’d played quarterback in high school to teach me how to throw a football for distance. I raised the required $5,000, and when I stepped onto the field at Rice University a year later, I was ready.

That year, I won the Executive Championship (40+). I competed three years in a row. One year I won the co-ed team championship with friends. The third year, I tore my hamstring in the very first event, the 400m, and still finished every remaining event that day. I was prouder of that than the year I won.

The D10 never came back after COVID. The event disappeared, but the standards it gave me never did.

Last week, I saw a performance standards test online and decided to take it. 

Ten years removed from my D10 “heyday,” I wanted to see where I stood at 53. I tested similar markers: strict pull-ups, bench press at 185, an 800m for time, and the broad jump.

Here’s where I ended up:

I lost a few bench reps. I lost a step or two in the 800m. But my broad jump was exactly the same. And I held a plank longer than I ever could in my 40s.

That’s when it hit me. This isn’t depreciation. It’s appreciation.

The fact that I could still perform all of these events at a high level was the win. It proved what I’ve always said: consistency compounds.

For a decade, I’ve stayed conditioned enough to perform with minimal drop-off. In a world where most men my age aren’t just negotiating decline, they’re full-on giving up, I’ve managed to stay within striking distance of my younger self. Giving up or bargaining with myself to stop exercising and training was never, ever an option.

What looks like less fast-twitch speed or strength on paper is actually evidence of long-term consistency paying off at 53.

There were no stadium lights. No charity crowds. My kids weren’t in the stands. It was just me in the gym on a Friday night. Me versus me. Checking the standard.

But you cannot manage what you do not measure.

So here’s my challenge to you:

Take a performance test (or try ours below). It doesn’t have to be a decathlon. Find a baseline. See where you actually stand, honestly and without ego. Use those numbers to set your own standards for the man you want to be, then live up to them every single day.

That’s what makes a great midlife. Not beating the 25-year-old in the next lane, or even the 43-year-old you used to be, but refusing to let the man in the mirror wonder where you went.

In Health, 

P.S. Let’s be honest. Most fitness benchmark tests are built by fit guys, for fit guys, who want to compare themselves to other super fit guys. This isn’t that. This is for the middle-aged man who’s ready to start again. The guy who knows he won’t love the numbers, but understands that avoiding them hasn’t helped either. This is a private, pressure-free baseline you can do on your own, without crowds, comparison, or embarrassment. Not to judge yourself, but to establish the standard for the man you’re committed to becoming. Test yourself and fill out the PDF here to keep track:

This April I’m co-leading an amazing 5-day retreat at Modern Elder Academy for men called “Master the Middle”.  

I first learned about MEA, as they call it, a few years ago when I interviewed founder and NY times bestselling author Chip Conley. It’s an incredible first class campus in Todos Santos, Baja Sur and Chip invited me down to spend a week as his guest and participate in one of their workshops. I loved it. 

Now, I’ve been invited back to help men develop their own Midlife Action Plans because the life you crave is within your grasp. 

All you need is a framework that fits your reality and builds consistency, focus, and momentum.

And when we’re not working we’re going to be surfing, hiking, doing yoga, enjoying incredible meals, making new friends and having fun.  

Co-led by Midlife Male founder Greg Scheinman, MEA CEO Derek Gehl, and MEA Faculty-in-Residence Ben Katt, this week in Baja is built for men in their 40s, 50s, and beyond ready to live by design, not default.

Come join us! Grab your spot here.