There is a quote that is striking to me by Jean-Paul Sartre, and it goes like this:
"I have led a toothless life. A toothless life. I have never bitten into anything. I was waiting. I was reserving myself for later on—and I have just noticed that my teeth have gone.”
In life, it’s easy to wait. To prepare. To tell yourself you’ll go all "one day" — when you’re more certain, prepared, or ready.
Project 365 is my refusal to live that way.
Hi, I'm Cody Stanton Giles
Not just to others, but to themselves. I’ve watched documentaries where someone stands at the edge of fear, doubt, exposure… and steps forward anyway. And they do it with no guarantee of success or safety. They do it because something inside them demanded it.
That idea has followed me.
Fourteen trips to Iceland.
A podcast centered around audacity.
Conversations about identity, risk, and becoming.
At some point, all of it started converging into a question:
What would it look like to bite into something?
For years I've been drawn to stories of people doing things that seemed impossible
02 100k Ultramarathon
01 the marathon
03 The Iceland Run
Nietzsche wrote that if a man has a sufficient why, he can endure almost any how. Project 365 became that convergence for me.
What started as admiration for people stepping into the impossible slowly turned inward.
The marathon was the first bite — doing what once felt out of reach. The 100K pushed that edge further, demanding patience and resilience beyond a single day. And now Iceland — roughly 365 miles from Ísafjörður to Vík — is the full expression of that progression. A deliberate escalation toward something that genuinely intimidates me. The why is simple: I don’t want to reserve myself for later. I want to test the outer boundary of what feels impossible, and meet it directly.