This past weekend, I flew to Sedona to participate in the XPT / GORUCK marathon at Cathedral Rock. Twenty-six miles with a 20-pound ruck on your back the entire time. Joined by 30 remarkable individuals, this was my Misogi for the year.

If you’re not familiar with Misogi, it’s an ancient Japanese practice of purification. Traditionally it meant cold water immersion or standing beneath a waterfall. Today it has evolved into something broader. It is about pushing your limits, confronting your fears, and rediscovering the strength you forgot you had. At its core, Misogi is transformation. You shed something old, embrace something new, and test your physical, mental, and spiritual boundaries in ways that change every part of your life.

Ironically, as I flew out for my first ruck marathon, I was coming off my interview with Jesse Itzler, the guy who first introduced me to Misogi. And here I was, about to live one.

Misogis do not have to be physical. Starting a podcast, writing a book, launching a business, speaking on a stage. I have done all of those. What matters is that it feels out of reach at the time and meaningful when you finish. You choose. But it needs to be hard. It needs to be uncomfortable. That is what makes it powerful.

For this one, I chose the event, signed up, paid, locked in the travel, and reverse-engineered everything I needed to do in training to be successful.

The People Make the Challenge

The best part of these events is always the people you meet. No matter what expedition or activation I have done, the biggest takeaways come from the human element. Even when I have attended events alone, I come back with new friends.

This time I traveled with my friend Jeff. He is a stellar husband, father, entrepreneur, and athlete. Having someone with you from day one is a certain kind of calm.

We flew into Phoenix, rented a car, made the In-N-Out stop, and drove to Sedona. United lost Jeff’s luggage, so in true Jeff fashion, he did the entire 26.2 miles in jeans, a button-down, and the UGGs he flew in. That is either commitment or craziness, depending on how you look at it. But he refused any borrowed gear because finishing it his way would make for a better story. There’s something admirable about that.

My coaching client Eric met us in Sedona as well. We have worked together for the past year, become friends, and this weekend was the culmination of a lot of progress for him personally and professionally. That is what matters to me. The impact.

We started the morning at 5 a.m. with headlamps and complete darkness except for the full moon overhead. The night before, PJ Nestler led a breathwork and mindset session. He encouraged us to write our mantras for when it got hard. I wrote mine and stuffed them in my pocket.

I’m built for this.
I can do hard things.
Keep moving forward.
Commit to completion.
This was my choice.
Smile the entire time.

By sunrise, the temperature was perfect. We rucked and talked and followed the trail markers until approaching Rest Stop No. 2, where my group briefly got turned around, adding an extra mile. We regrouped for the final stretch to Cathedral Rock and crossed the finish line, where the best empanadas I have ever eaten were waiting.

We recovered with breathwork, yoga, sauna, and cold plunges. We talked about grit, perseverance, and challenge. I got to know women from Louisiana taking this on for their 50th birthdays. Couples doing something hard together. Men who came alone to test themselves and meet others who live this way.

And then there was Daniel. An Army Special Forces Green Beret who lost his leg in combat. He completed the entire 26.2 miles with us. He is a husband, father of eight, entrepreneur, and one of the most positive spirits I have ever met. Moments like that change you. They remind you that there is always someone going through something harder. Everyone has their own reasons for seeking challenge. And our situations can defeat us or define us.

These are the lessons. These are the messages I text my sons on the plane ride home. This is what matters.

Commitment, Choices and the Next Challenge

We talk about living happier, healthier, wealthier, and stronger lives, and having more fun in midlife. These people, these experiences, these expeditions are how it happens. We choose to make it happen. We choose to do hard things. To seek them out. To schedule them. To commit. To complete.

If I can do these things, anybody can. 

How? You start. You make one better choice each day. When you make better choices most of the time, most of your life gets better. It really is that simple.

You start by keeping the promises you make to yourself. By not breaking the ones you make to others. By not making too many promises in the first place. And you surround yourself with people who do the same.

Your future is shaped by the habits you repeat, not the goals you set. That holds true at any age.

As we close out 2025 and I complete my Misogi for the year, here is what I encourage you to do:

Think about your challenges for the upcoming year. Personal, professional, physical, spiritual, financial. Put pen to paper. Write them down. Commit. Schedule them. Then work backwards to what you need to do each day to meet the challenge and set the standard.

That is your process.

And progress is a process.

Embrace it.

In health,

Midlife Male
52. Husband. Father. Entrepreneur. Coach. Mediocrity happens by default. Maximization happens by design.

PS: Want to set the tone for the best year of your life and work toward your personal Misogi?

Let’s talk. I have a few openings left for 1:1 coaching and my private adventure group. It’s not about resolutions, it’s about resolve. Book your call with me to see if we’re a good fit here.

At 52, I’ve learned what I wish I knew in my late 20s and 30s, that fertility isn’t just a women’s issue. Men struggle too, often silently. I did and I didn’t know it. We assume our virility and vitality will always be there until they’re not. Fertility is about more than making babies. It’s about hormone balance, energy, and long-term health.

I’m done having kids. Mine are already in their 20s. Ironically, you spend a lot of years as a parent hoping your sons don’t get anyone pregnant, and then in your 50s, you start envisioning becoming young grandparents. I want my boys to be educated.

That’s why SwimClub matters. It’s science-backed, built for men, and focuses on the key drivers of male fertility: sperm health, testosterone support, and reducing oxidative stress. It helps you feel better, perform better, and preserve what matters most.

If I’d known then what I know now, I would have started taking care of this part of my health much earlier.