From marathon runs to tattoo fails, Michael Botur set himself a list of 40 challenges to complete the year he turned 40, finding fresh adventures that reignited his life along the way. Photo / Michael Botur
About to turn 40, Michael Botur drew up a list of 40 challenges to complete. Here’s why he thinks you should too, at any stage of your life.
We’ve all heard of a “bucket list” – but have you thought about a f*** it list?
It means saying“F*** it, why not?” and undertaking fresh new adventures to break out of your safe, comfortable, predictable life. In other words – it’s about having new experiences during that difficult midlife crossroads when you stop feeling young. Forty new experiences, to be exact.
I first encountered the concept of doing 40 fresh things upon turning 40 when I dated a woman who had just turned 41 – we’ll call her Katie – living in a posh part of Auckland’s North Shore. Getting over the shock of divorce, which had torn her heart and her assets in two, Katie – when I met her – was revitalising her life with a 40/40 list. She’d begun invigorating ocean swims every morning, had hit up a pilot neighbour for permission to fly his helicopter, ate weird new things, went to weird new places, and dated weird new men like me.
She auditioned forLes Miserables, climbed trees, tried ice baths and inspired me to try 40 new things as I turned 40 at the start of 2024. Why? Because saying “f*** it” makes our 4000 weeks of life more interesting.
Inspired, I bought a blank canvas, wrote the numbers 1-40 on it, then told everyone at my 40th birthday party I’d be filling the list this year.
I began in a Hunting & Fishing store in Whangārei, trying to choose a speargun, looking like a total noob, surrounded by far manlier men. A teenage girl (also far manlier than me) showed me how to use the speargun, and that afternoon I literally took the plunge, coming home with a couple of fish and a hugely satisfied 12-year-old son. That was New Thing Number 1.
Cold water soon emerged as one of the best ways to have life-affirming adventures. I photographed wild owls and wētā in sodden rainforests and flooded caves (27/40), joined an experienced kayak fisherman (14/40), and signed up for a dive course (12/40).
Finding new things to do outdoors brought deep pride through self-reliance (not to mention a lean body and a caramel tan). I signed up for the Auckland Marathon (3/40, gulp) then ran the terrifying thing nine months later.
That was a huge success – though one of my other runs wasn’t. I said f*** it to being a pace runner for a half marathon (21/40), inadvertently ran way faster than the pace I was supposed to maintain, and had numerous people mock me in front of hordes of other runners.
Ah well – it became clear early on you won’t have a great f*** it list without a few f*** ups. Mine included getting way too excited about my big new tattoo (32/40), resolving to become a part-time tattooist, buying $1000 worth of tattoo gear (5/40), then selling it months later at a huge loss when I realised I might’ve gotten a little carried away.
On that note, when you’re undertaking your list, you’ll find you don’t have to define wins as wins and fails as fails. Your supporters should love you whether you successfully do a muddy fun run chained to three people (15/40) or fall off a trapeze in the pouring winter rain (24/40).
Speaking of love, relationships were a theme of the 40/40 year. Divorced, cynical and with nothing to lose, I “hung out” with a polyamorous people (8/40), tried a notorious marital aid (9/40), and dated a world-class surfer who let me embarrass myself on her board (18/40).
A truly stimulating f*** it list should expose you to things that are confronting or even terrifying at first. For some, that means skydiving, racing, hiking summits or bungee jumping. For me, pain, fear, exhilaration and humiliation were found in performance and theatre.
I danced and sang on stage in front of strangers (as Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz, 2/40), went to a shamanic pagan Viking trance concert (34/40), sang songs I’d never heard of with people I’d never met at a drop-in choir (7/40), helped on a podcast with millionaires (28/40), and auditioned for Joseph & The Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat (17/40), during which I was cut off midway and politely shown the door.
The 40/40 list is one I’m never ashamed to show visitors. Embracing shame should, instead, reinvigorate your life, whether that means wearing a dorky bib and picking up rubbish at a festival (4/40), freaking out during a flying lesson (23/40), or clumsily practising Qigong in the forest while passing tourists stare (10/40). I reached out to celebrity endorsers for my forthcoming novel (33/40), dyed my hair and grew a mullet, which probably lost me a few job interviews (35/40), dumped some useless friends but also made great new friends through the experiences described above.
The message is, kids: act childishly. Be impulsive. Take risks. Take out acquaintances and bring home friends. Reject vanilla, choose spice. Start your 28 fresh things, or 43 fresh things, or 51 fresh things, at whatever age you are. Start today.
Don’t slow down, don’t stop, and don’t think that your List of Exciting Things has to look like some influencer’s Instagram. What’s scary and stimulating is unique and personal to you. Plus, everyone’s a noob when they first try something. “Uncomfortable is where the reward is,” as my surfer-date puts it.
Challenge your self-imposed frontiers. Buy tickets today for crazy adventures to look forward to in future. Go out and have funny fails. Bring stories back to the people who care about you. There’s no reason to stop having adventures as often as possible, so when you’ve hit your quota, keep going.