Tomorrow morning I wake up and start something called 75Hard. Not because I want to, exactly. More because I need to.
The program is simple enough on paper. Two workouts a day, forty-five minutes each, one of them outside no matter the weather. Follow a diet – any diet, just pick one and stick to it. Drink a gallon of water. Read ten pages of a book that’s not fiction. Take a progress photo. No alcohol for seventy-five days straight.
Miss any of it, even once, and you start over from day one.
I’ve been writing about men’s mental health for months now, telling other guys how to get their lives together. Funny how you can hand out advice all day long and still wake up at three in the morning wondering if you’re full of it. That’s what got me here.
The Rules Are the Easy Part
People think 75Hard is about getting in shape. Brother, I ain’t joking when I say that’s missing the point entirely. The workouts are just the vehicle. What this thing really tests is whether you can keep a promise to yourself when nobody’s watching and nobody would know if you quit.
I’ve known guys who could bench press a Buick but couldn’t stick to a promise for three days running. The weight on the bar don’t mean much if you can’t carry your own word.
The physical activity piece I can handle. I’ve been moving my body long enough to know that sweat is cheaper than therapy and works about as well. What worries me is the other stuff – the discipline when I’m tired, the outdoor workout when we are in the middle of the Pacific Northwest Rain Festival, the diet when Christmas goodies are everywhere. I have picked the perfect time to start.
Adding My Own Pieces
Here’s where I’m going off-script a little. The basic 75Hard framework is good, but I’m adding two things that matter to me: tracking gratitude and prayer.
Every day I’ll write down three things I’m grateful for. Sounds simple. Probably is simple. But I’ve noticed something about gratitude – it’s hard to stay miserable when you’re actively looking for things to be thankful for. It’s like setting small achievable goals; you train your brain to spot the wins instead of cataloging the losses.
The prayer part is personal. I’m not going to preach at you about it. But for me, checking in with God daily is like reporting to a commanding officer who actually gives a damn whether I make it through the day. Your mileage may vary.
Why This Matters
I could tell you about the science of habit formation. I could quote studies about how nutrition affects your mental health or why reading improves cognitive function. All that’s true and you can look it up if you want.
But here’s the real reason: I’m tired of being someone who talks a good game and then folds when things get hard.
There’s something about modern life that makes it easy to be soft. We’ve got apps that do our thinking, services that deliver everything to our door and enough entertainment to fill every quiet moment until we die. Comfort everywhere you look. And somehow we’re more anxious and depressed than ever.
The guys who stormed beaches in World War II didn’t have anxiety apps. They had hard things to do and they did them. I’m not saying we need to go back to digging foxholes, but maybe we need something that teaches us we’re tougher than we think.
The Outdoor Workout
Of all the 75Hard rules, this one might be the most important. One workout has to be outside, rain or shine, hot or cold.
There’s something about being outside that you can’t get in a climate-controlled gym. Maybe it’s the way weather reminds you that you’re small and the world is big. Maybe it’s just that fresh air and sunlight do things for your brain that fluorescent lights can’t match.
I’ve walked in the rain before. I’ve run in the cold. It’s not fun exactly, but it’s real in a way that treadmills aren’t. When you’re cold and wet and still putting one foot in front of the other, you’re proving something to yourself that no motivational quote ever could.
What I’m Really Testing
Seventy-five days is a long time. Long enough that you can’t just white-knuckle your way through on pure willpower. You have to build systems. You have to create routines that actually work for your life.
That’s what I’m really testing here – can I build something that lasts? Can I create a version of myself that keeps promises even when it’s hard, even when nobody’s watching, even when I’m tired and it’s raining and I’d rather just stay on the couch?
I don’t know yet. Ask me in seventy-five days.
The Fear Part
I’m not going to lie to you – I’m afraid I’ll fail. Not afraid of the workouts or the water or reading ten pages. I’m afraid I’ll get to day forty-three, miss something stupid, and have to start over. Or worse, I’ll just quit and spend the next six months knowing I couldn’t even keep a promise to myself for eleven weeks.
That’s the thing about fear. It’s useful if it makes you careful, worthless if it makes you quit before you start. I’m choosing to let it make me careful.
Tomorrow Morning
When I wake up tomorrow, the first thing I’ll do is drink a big glass of water. Then I’ll get my workout clothes on before I’m awake enough to talk myself out of it. I’ll track it all in a notebook – old school, with a pen, because there’s something about writing by hand that makes it more real. I will share daily progress on Instagram and weekly here.
Seventy-five days from now I’ll either be someone who finished what he started or someone who learned something valuable in the failing. Either way, I’ll know more about myself than I do right now.
That’s all any of us can ask for – to know ourselves a little better, to be a little stronger than we were, to prove we can do hard things when we decide they matter.
I sure hope this works. Brother, I ain’t joking about that.
Try This Today
If you’re thinking about 75Hard, or any challenge that scares you a little, here’s what I’d say: don’t wait until you feel ready. You won’t ever feel ready. Just pick a start date, tell someone who’ll hold you accountable and begin.
The program is seventy-five days, but it starts with one. Just one day of keeping your promises to yourself. Then another. Then another.
You might surprise yourself. I’m hoping to surprise myself.
We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
If you’re working on your own mental health journey, remember that you don’t have to do it alone. Whether it’s through structured programs, talking to someone, or just showing up for yourself one day at a time – it all counts. It all matters.
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