Ever stare at a cold plunge and think, why am I willingly making my life worse? Then it hits you: because doing hard things makes the rest of life suck just a little less. It’s like life is a sadistic game show, and instead of winning a toaster, you win grit and resilience. Hooray?

But here’s the twist—“hard” is personal. You don’t have to wrestle a bear or scale Mount Everest. Your hard thing could be as simple as attempting to cook an egg without setting off the smoke alarm or flipping it onto the floor where it promptly becomes your dog’s new favorite snack.

As Confucius once said:

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

Or in Todd-language

“The person who conquers life begins by cooking an egg like a toddler!.”

This December, I’m taking on the Character Mile. My (once upon a time) personal trainer, Chris, cooked up this beautifully simple yet mildly intimidating task: walk or run 1 mile every day for the month. Sounds doable, right? But let me tell you, when it’s day 10, your motivation’s in the toilet, and your sneakers are giving you the side-eye, that mile feels like a character-building slog.

But here’s the kicker: it’s only 30 minutes. You spend that much time scrolling your phone while perched on the porcelain throne anyway. Why not swap the bathroom blues for a brisk walk and some fresh air? Plus, seeing your friends—and even people you don’t know—posting their own miles? It creates this weird, wonderful sense of community. Like a secret club of people collectively deciding, Yup, today’s a great day to suffer slightly. And let me tell you, knowing you’re not suffering alone? Chef’s kiss.

Here’s the deal with doing hard things: they suck in the moment, but afterward, it’s like your brain throws you a party. I’ve willingly plunged into icy water, and the first thought is always, Why do I hate myself so much? But then, when I’m out, warmed up, and no longer considering a career in penguin-wrangling, everything else feels easier.

It works the same for those tiny challenges. If frying an egg feels like navigating a culinary minefield, do it anyway. You might start with an egg that looks like it survived a car accident. But by the end of the week, you’re flipping that sucker like a breakfast ninja. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get so cocky you’ll try making an omelet. Maybe you’ll even eat that omelet without sobbing into the pan.

Encouraging others to do hard things is like spreading a mildly painful, but ultimately rewarding, virus. Sure, they’re called hard things for a reason. But the feeling of nailing something you once thought impossible? That buzz is addictive. You’ll find yourself saying, What else can I make slightly uncomfortable for myself today? before gleefully charging into another challenge.

I love this quote:

“Don’t tell people how to do things, tell them what to do and let them surprise you with their results.”

Song to go with said quote

Apply that to your own life. Stop obsessing over how to do the hard thing. Just decide what needs to get done and let yourself figure it out in your own messy, magnificent way. You might just blow your own mind.

One day you’re sweating over a push-up, and three months later, you’re effortlessly levitating your peachy cheeks off the ground. One day you’re fighting an egg, and suddenly you’re whipping up brunch like Gordon Ramsay—minus the swearing (or not, no judgment).

Remember: failure is totally acceptable. Can’t lift your sad little arms off the floor during a push-up? No worries. At least you tried. Asking your body to do something hard, even if it says, Nah, I’m good, is still a win. Because if you don’t ask, you’ll never know what you’re capable of.

So ask your brain to squeeze out a few more drops of effort. Ask your body to give you one more step, one more plunge, or one more egg flip. Trust me, you’ll thank yourself—and probably surprise yourself.

I love you all for reading this. Now go out there, fry that egg, walk that mile, embrace the cold, and remember: Life gets easier one micro-misery at a time.