If you have enjoyed this podcast, you could help me a great deal by: Leaving a review on Amazon. This is so helpful. Sharing a photo of the book cover on social media. Use the hashtag #TheDoorstepMile. Giving your copy to someone who might benefit from it.

What date does the Death Clock predict you'll snuff it? Put it into your diary. What story will you choose to live before then?

I never did make it to the South Pole. But it has been a fascinating journey to where I've ended up nonetheless. We never know where we will end up, nor even if the destination we aspire to is the best one.

I don’t think we should pin our hopes on one adventure of a lifetime. Instead, we should strive for a lifetime of living more adventurously every day. Do something daily that excites you, makes you happier, fulfilled and curious. Something that scares you a little. It is the process that is important, the direction you walk, not the notional outcome at the end of that journey.

The times I have rolled the dice and gone big with my dreams have always turned out to be fascinating, informative experiences. You learn so much about the world and yourself when you step out your front door and dare yourself to have a look around.

There is no denying the power of accumulated marginal gains. Increase your daily run by a minute per day, and you'll soon be running for miles. Save £20 a week, and you'll be able to afford a £1000 adventure in a year. If you have a good idea, write a short blog post every day. You'll eventually have written a book.

You launch with great fanfare and enthusiasm. But, after an initial flurry, progress is paltry. Success is still so far away. The temptation to quit returns. This is where you need to be stubborn and remember only today's Doorstep Mile: get out the door and start running. It is better to measure your trajectory than your current ability.

Esse quam videri is a pithy, challenging phrase from Cicero. It translates as ‘to be, rather than to seem’. It flew on Birdie Bowers’ sledging pennant as he trekked to the South Pole with Captain Scott. Birdie was one of the most impressive, genuine humans I have ever read about. I use esse quam videri as an opportunity to turn the mirror on myself from time to time and ask myself some questions.

Type 2 Fun is both an investment and a speculation. And it is often at the heart of the process of trying to live more adventurously. I encourage you – I dare you – to make the effort to toss a little more Type 2 Fun into your life. In my experience, while fun is fun, the more meaningful, enduring sensations of satisfaction and reward come through gritted teeth and Type 2 Fun.

Living adventurously is about cajoling ourselves to venture beyond what we initially think possible. At each stage in the narrative here, I did not imagine that I would attempt what came next, nor did I give much thought to how many different 'comfort zones' we reside within. There are so many ways to scare ourselves. But each time we dare ourselves to try, we are making progress in the right direction.

If you decide to measure your life by ‘progress against yourself’ rather than ‘success compared to others’, what criteria would you measure things by? It is essential to be clear about what matters most. It’s also good to remember previous benchmarks. These will help you feel better about where you are right now, providing you are progressing.

What are your 9-to-5 problems? What are your 5-to-9 opportunities? What will your next 5-to-9 adventure be?

As my own attempts to live adventurously evolved from jumping on planes to distant continents, I began to develop the idea of microadventures. They have been part of my effort to learn to look for the opportunities amongst the constraints of life.

The problem is not that adventures are too big or too hard. It is not that you are too busy or broke. The problem is that we forget that beginning requires just a single step. Once you do that you are on your way and all the world now lies before you. In the next part of the book, we raise our eyes from these first steps to the distant horizon.

The best adventures are simple. Simple but not easy. There is a subtle difference between the words.

‘Come on in,’ you yell. ‘It’s great once you’re in. Stop being such a wimp. All you gotta do is jump. Once you start, you won’t regret it… God, it feels wonderful in here.’

Making the commitment to take the Doorstep Mile is difficult psychologically. But that first step is, practically speaking, almost absurdly easy.

When have you shied away from doing something because it wouldn’t be perfect? Would ‘good’ have been a preferable outcome to not done at all?

What are you over-thinking and over-planning? How can you simplify it? What would happen if you stopped planning and began immediately?

It is easy to confuse planning with stalling. Planning must not be an excuse to delay. Planning helped me cast light on the darkness, tack some answers to my concerns and reduce the chances of early failure or capitulation. It reassured those close to me that my scheme was not total madness. In this context, planning was useful, important and necessary. It was the tool that gave me confidence and an exercise in pragmatic recklessness.

When you are young, you're too young. When you're old, you are too old. When you are broke, you can't afford it. When you have a little money, you want a little more. Before you begin, you have no idea what you are doing and need to learn more. Before you begin, you have no momentum. And there will always be one more item on the To-Do list before you are ready.

Many of the best things I have done began with an email. They are so brief, flippant and non-binding. Scribble an email, click send. Worst case scenario? You regret it in the morning and hastily back out. Easy as that. You haven't got much to lose.

The moment I committed to living adventurously happened sitting at a desk.

I am often asked, ‘what is the hardest thing you have ever done?’ Generally, they want to hear me boast of hauling a heavy cart through the Empty Quarter desert or battling to put up a tent in freezing temperatures. These things are difficult. Uncomfortable, too. But, honestly, they are not life-changingly difficult.