Reflecting on the Misogi

& other hard things.

Like many, the new year allows me to reflect more intentionally compared to my daily practice. I get to really dig into the peaks and valleys of my previous 365.

What went well? What could I have done better? When was I truly happiest? How did I push myself? All questions that flutter around days leading up to Jan 1.

Sending this out on January 17th,“National Ditch New Years Resolution Day” which made me chuckle, but I think will be somewhat applicable to what I’m about to dig into - the Misogi.

I first became aware of the word Misogi through my friend Adam, and then quickly encountered Jesse Itzler’s obsession with them and how they’ve transformed his annual planning and subsequently, his life.

What’s a Misogi?:

Misogi is a Japanese word that translates to “water cleansing”. Created by the Shinto faith, this entails standing under a waterfall to purify your soul. Once a year, they cleanse their body and mind by making the trip to a sacred waterfall.

Jesse Itzler and many other contemporaries have broadened the meaning of this term and have used it as a lever in the world of personal growth to mean, “do one really hard thing a year.”

The point is that this one hard thing will not only transform your mind, but also prepare you to meet the inevitable challenges throughout the remainder of your year with grace and calm.

I'm drawn to this concept not only for its inherent meaning, but also for its versatility in applying to each person in a slightly different way.

Everyone can have a Misogi:

Last year Jesse rode his bike across America, and I, without formally announcing I embarked on a Misogi, ran 50 miles through Moab, Utah’s desert/snow/slush/mountains. Very different levels of commitment and intensity, but yet, both Misogis.

In early October of 2022, my friend Alex and I threw the idea around of running an ultra-marathon and slowly started to run the headlands in Marin to change up our typical routine from the roads and hills of San Francisco.

Road running and trail running are completely different beasts. I won’t rabbit hole too much on this now, but competitively speaking, road races are more focused on time, while trail races are more focused on distance and extreme endurance. How much further can you go when every part of your body and mind are telling you to stop? 

Training for the unknown:

After a beautiful Saturday run in the headlands we kind of just decided on it, and signed up. Not a ton of thought went into it and we both agreed that running through Arches National Park would 1) be beautiful and 2) likely be the hardest thing either of us had done to date. A litmus test for how much suck we could endure.

So we signed up and trained. A lot…

50 miles a week quickly turned to 60 and then 70+, giving ourselves about 3 months to get ready. Recommended training for ultra-marathons focuses on maximizing “time on feet”, and since it wouldn’t be wise to go try and run the full distance (for any race), we would stack days of big mileage. So a 20 mile Friday afternoon run followed by a 25 mile Saturday morning run. Fun stuff, I know.

The climax of this story isn’t necessarily the most compelling, but suffice to say it lived up to our expectations.

The combination of tactics, training, terrain challenges, equipment failures (my AirPods dying on mile 1), and the vast beauty of Utah’s Red Rocks made it everything we could have hoped for.

Power of the push:

I became familiar with this word only a month or so before the race. Adam had told me about this tradition and how doing something so difficult would set the rest of my year up for success - like taking off a weighted vest.

He was right. Everything for the remainder of the year was framed through the lens of that 10 hour run. 

Every pissed off client, difficult personal conversation, or physical setback, became less daunting and more manageable.

“This isn’t worse than mile 49”, became a common whisper I’d say to myself as I encountered the hurdles of life.

On a micro-level, this same principle holds true. Doing something hard early in the day – be it a workout, meditation, or writing – sets the tone for the rest of the day. Mood follows action.

As I said at the start, Misogis are specific to you. Find something that truly pushes you out of your comfort zone. 

I had previously never run further than 26.2 miles and definitely had reservations about what I’d feel like at miles 30-50 in the desert at 19 degrees with no reception, no food, and plenty of wildlife to keep me company if the sun set before we made it to the finish line.

This year my Misogi is a bit different.

It’s this newsletter.

To put something out into the world once a month at minimum. It may seem easier to you than running 50 miles, but to me, it's actually not. (I do have a 100 miler on the books) but more on that another time.

I’ve curbed my urge to write online for some time due to fear of what others think, not necessarily thinking I “have anything to say” among other reasons, and can tell you with confidence, that even after hitting publish on two posts, those feelings have dissipated, and other areas where I’ve maybe lacked confidence have improved.

Think of something that you’ve wanted to do and that scares you, and go do it. You’ll be glad you did.