Fifty days, nine disciplines, one finished thing.

For those who don't know: a backyard ultra is a type of ultramarathon created by Gary "Lazarus Lake" Cantrell. The race has one winner and everyone else proudly DNFs. On the hour, every hour, you run 6.7km until you can't anymore. Last person running wins. So I was in the proudly Did Not Finish category, with blood-blistered feet and a twisting stomach full of race nutrition that was more than insistent I take the DNF.

Without much more explanation about me, you might assume I'm always up for a challenge — which is how I ended up stacking 75 Hard on top of a backyard ultra. The only sensible option, obvs!

Having to get up at 5am to read my ten pages before starting race-day prep was a unique experience, let me tell you. Two 45-minute workouts the day after finishing the ultra was also something I wouldn't put in the "fun" column.

On the other hand, being on international flights from Europe to sunny Australia and figuring out how to drink a gallon of water and get two 45-minute workouts done in a compressed transit window was surprisingly amusing. Definitely got some sideways looks doing loops of the duty-free hallways between flights.

About two months in, I remember going for a hike with friends and telling them 75 Hard had become a bit joyless. I was showing up because I'd made the commitment and my grit wouldn't let me quit. I was at least still enjoying the knowledge I was gaining from the non-fiction reading. But it wasn't compounding into anything I could use.

And when day 75 rolled past I celebrated by filling a Woolies basket with every possible piece of Aussie junk food I could carry. Which, if I do the maths, is not the correct response to finishing a challenge that's supposed to change your habits.

I'd finished a hard fitness and mental endurance challenge, and yes — I was in good shape and I had some pride in my mental toughness. But it didn't feel tangible. I couldn't point to a specific artefact or project and say "out of all that time and discipline, I built that. I made this."

I'd put money on a large portion of my friends telling you I do slightly unhinged things for fun. I don't need convincing to sign up for hard. What I needed was hard and worth it.

Fast forward six months and the discipline of 75 Hard was a distant memory. I was still running consistently, my diet was okay but I wasn't tracking anything anymore, and my reading had dropped off a cliff I'd fallen back on audiobook if that still counts. One evening out for a few beers with my mate we were discussing 75 Hard and whether to go another round. As we discussed it, we started making alterations to how we'd do it differently. Call it three beers later we had the bones of FIT50: nine disciplines, a fifty-day timeframe, and something to stimulate the mind with purpose.

There's a smaller reason we feel FIT50 works the way it does. It's well documented that when you stop drinking or smoking your brain looks for other stimulus. Willpower can help, but having something else to think about is what makes the true difference. A craving lasts five minutes. A project you're passionate about swallows those cravings whole. We hope FIT50 starts you on that project from day one giving you the purpose that extends past day 50.

That's the pitch, and the confession.

Fifty days, nine disciplines, one finished thing.

Now it's yours.