I’ve started countless programs before — fitness challenges, nutrition resets, mindset transformations. Each one came with its promises, its routines, and its motivational slogans. Some of them worked for a while. Others fizzled out before they even got traction. But something about this one — 75 Hard — hit differently.

Not because it’s trendy. Not because everyone on social media seems to be doing it. But because this time, I was ready for it.

And that readiness came from one book, one message, and one man: Andy Frisella.

The Spark That Started It

A few weeks ago, I finished reading 75 Hard: A Tactical Guide to Winning the War with Yourself. I’d heard about it before — of course I had. I’ve been around the personal development space long enough to know what it’s about. But I always brushed it off.

I told myself, “I’m already disciplined. I’m already fit. I’ve already pushed my limits as a triathlete.”

That was my excuse.

But deep down, I knew it wasn’t about fitness. It was about mental toughness.
It was about creating a standard that I couldn’t negotiate with.
And if I’m being honest — that’s exactly what I needed.

Frisella’s words hit me like a punch to the gut:

“Most people think they’re disciplined until they’re asked to do something they don’t want to do.”

That one line forced me to confront something uncomfortable — I had allowed convenience to sneak into my discipline. I was disciplined on my terms, not on life’s terms. That’s not toughness; that’s control.

And control can become a crutch.

Why I Waited So Long

I’ve known about 75 Hard for years. I’ve listened to Andy’s podcast, followed his journey, and watched hundreds of others document theirs. And every time I thought about doing it, my mind instantly pushed back.

“You’re already training for triathlons.”
“You already do hard things.”
“You don’t need another program.”

But what I realized is that triathlon — as physically demanding as it is — allowed me to hide behind structure. I had training blocks, race schedules, periodization, and nutrition plans. I knew the pain. I knew the grind. But it was a familiar kind of pain. Controlled. Predictable. Safe.

75 Hard, on the other hand, doesn’t care about comfort or predictability.
It doesn’t care if it’s raining.
It doesn’t care if you’re tired.
It doesn’t care if you’re already doing “enough.”

It simply asks: Can you follow through when nobody’s watching?

That question haunted me.

The Skepticism Phase

When I first heard about the rules — two 45-minute workouts per day, one of them outside, every single day, no alcohol, no cheat meals, drink a gallon of water, read 10 pages of a non-fiction book, and take a progress photo — I rolled my eyes.

“That’s just another fad.”
“I already do this stuff.”
“Why would I need someone else’s structure to be disciplined?”

But if I’m honest, that skepticism was my ego talking.

I was afraid to start something that had no wiggle room for excuses.
Because if I failed, it wouldn’t be because the program didn’t work — it would be because I didn’t work.

And that’s the part that scared me.

For years, I’d built my life and business on principles of discipline and accountability. I lead a team, I build brands, I preach about consistency. But there’s always another level — and sometimes you can’t see that next level until you get brutally honest with yourself.

75 Hard became that mirror for me.

Why Now

2025 has been a defining year in so many ways. Between scaling businesses, building partnerships, mentoring teams, training as a triathlete, and being a father and husband — my plate has been full. But fullness doesn’t always mean fulfillment.

Somewhere between the chaos of goals and the grind of growth, I started noticing small cracks:

• The “I’ll do it tomorrow” moments.

• The skipped reading sessions.

• The workouts that didn’t have the same fire.

• The mental negotiations that always ended in compromise.

I realized I was keeping promises to everyone except myself.

That’s when it clicked — it was time to raise the bar again. Not just in business. Not just in sport. But in discipline. Because discipline is the foundation of everything else.

So I picked November 10, 2025, as Day 1.
No symbolism. No “New Year, New Me.” Just a date. A line in the sand.

The Athlete’s Paradox

You might think being a triathlete makes 75 Hard easier.
It doesn’t.
If anything, it makes it harder.

Why? Because endurance athletes are creatures of habit. We live by structured training plans, rest days, taper weeks, and recovery cycles. 75 Hard doesn’t offer any of that.

There are no rest days. No “recovery weeks.”
Just 75 straight days of physical and mental execution.

That goes against everything endurance training teaches you. And that was my biggest mental barrier.

Could I handle the load without breaking down? Could I train smart and honor the program? Would I burn out physically before I leveled up mentally?

Those questions kept me on the sidelines for years.

But here’s the thing — 75 Hard isn’t about chasing physical performance. It’s about mastering self-command. It’s not a race. It’s a recalibration of your mindset. And I realized I could do both — train like an athlete and live like a disciplined human.

That realization freed me.

The Rules and the Reality

Let’s be honest: the rules look simple on paper. But simplicity doesn’t mean ease.

Here’s what I’m committing to every single day for the next 75 days:

1. Two 45-minute workouts per day. One must be outside, no matter the weather.

2. Follow a strict diet. No cheat meals, no alcohol, no excuses.

3. Drink one gallon of water per day.

4. Read 10 pages of a non-fiction or personal development book.

5. Take a progress photo daily.

Miss even one task — even once — and you start over.

It’s that black and white. And that’s the beauty of it. There’s no gray area, no “I’ll make it up tomorrow.” You either did it or you didn’t.

That’s where the transformation happens — in the elimination of negotiation.

Discipline Over Motivation

I’ve built my career, my brand, and my athletic journey on the belief that motivation is overrated. Motivation is emotional. It’s temporary. It’s fragile.

Discipline is the opposite. It’s mechanical. It’s rooted in action, not emotion.

But even I’ll admit — over the years, my discipline had become selective. I’d convince myself that being “mostly consistent” was good enough. I’d check boxes but stop short of true accountability.

75 Hard doesn’t let you hide behind “mostly.” It demands exactness.

That’s why I chose it. Not to get shredded. Not to lose weight. Not to flex discipline for social media. But to remind myself who I am when nobody’s clapping.

Facing My Own Resistance

Every time I start something new, my brain looks for the exit. It whispers logic disguised as comfort.

“You’ve got too much going on.”
“You don’t need this right now.”
“You can start later.”

But that’s exactly why I have to do it now.

Because resistance is never about timing — it’s about avoidance. And the longer I let avoidance drive, the more I reinforce mediocrity.

I’m done with that.

So on November 10, 2025, I woke up, drank my water, laced my shoes, and went outside for my first workout. It was cold, windy, and dark. But I smiled the whole time. Because that was the first of many moments where I’d choose discomfort on purpose.

What I Expect to Learn

I’m not naïve. I know these next 75 days will test me — physically, mentally, emotionally. There will be days I won’t want to train. Days I’ll stare at that gallon jug like it’s a chore. Days I’ll want to skip the reading or reach for a “cheat” meal.

But I’m not chasing perfection. I’m chasing progress under pressure.

I want to see who I become when excuses aren’t on the table.
I want to prove to myself that I can sustain excellence without supervision.
I want to refine the voice in my head that says, “Do it anyway.”

I expect frustration, fatigue, and maybe even failure. But I also expect clarity, confidence, and an unshakable mindset that bleeds into every other part of my life — business, family, and athletic performance included.

Triathlete Meets 75 Hard: A Mindset Collision

In triathlon, success comes from strategy — pacing, fuel, aerodynamics, and endurance management. You play the long game.

In 75 Hard, success comes from execution. It’s not about pace — it’s about promise. There’s no medal waiting at the finish line. The reward is self-respect.

That’s a completely different mindset.

As a triathlete, I’ve learned how to endure. But endurance doesn’t always mean growth. Sometimes it’s just survival. What 75 Hard is teaching me — even on Day 1 — is that toughness is not about lasting longer, it’s about leading stronger.

The overlap between endurance and discipline is what I’m chasing now. To be the kind of person who doesn’t just finish — but executes with purpose.

What I Hope Others Take Away

This isn’t a call to action for everyone to start 75 Hard.
It’s not a recruitment pitch or a motivational speech.
It’s simply a reflection on what happens when you decide that “enough” isn’t enough anymore.

If you’ve been stuck in your own cycle of starting and stopping — if you’ve been saying, “I’ll do it when things calm down,” — let me save you the suspense: they never will.

Growth doesn’t wait for convenience. It thrives in chaos.

And that’s exactly where I’m planting my flag for the next 75 days.

The Bigger Picture

As I write this, it’s Day 1. My clothes are soaked from the outdoor workout, my gallon jug is half-empty, and I just finished my first 10 pages of reading. My muscles are already protesting. My mind, however, feels alive.

There’s a quiet satisfaction that comes from doing what you said you would do — even if no one notices. That’s the kind of integrity I want to live by, lead by, and teach my son to embody.

Because mental toughness isn’t built in the spotlight.
It’s built in the silent reps.
The early alarms.
The moments when you choose commitment over comfort.

And I know that 75 days from now, I’ll look back on this entry and see more than just physical change. I’ll see the version of myself that decided to show up when it mattered most.

I don’t know exactly how this journey will unfold. But I do know this: I’m all in.

No shortcuts. No cheat days. No justifications.

Every rep, every page, every ounce of water, every cold outdoor session — it all counts. Because I count. And this commitment isn’t to a program. It’s to myself.

So here’s to 75 days of clarity, grit, and growth.
Here’s to eliminating excuses and redefining what “hard” really means.
Here’s to earning back every ounce of self-respect that convenience tried to steal.

Day 1 is done.
74 more to go.

Let’s see what happens when discipline becomes the only option.