I’ve spent two decades leading polar expeditions, I’m one of three people in history to ski solo to both the North and South poles, and I hold the world record for the longest ever polar journey on foot.

I’m usually introduced as an explorer but I’m a storyteller too, and I’ve had the privilege of sharing the tales of my journeys – and the lessons I’ve picked up along the way – with audiences in 46 countries to date, and for hundreds of extraordinary businesses and organisations.

I’m fascinated by the polar regions, and human endeavour in the broadest sense of the word. I’m driven by a desire to educate, inspire and enable others to live more adventurously, and to make the most of the 650,000 hours or so that we each get on this planet.

I heard someone describe success recently as “the art of making things happen”. I’ve been fortunate enough to have made some unusual things happen – though I fear it’s involved more stubbornness than art in my case – and my own definition of what it means to succeed has changed dramatically as the years and the miles have passed.

I grew up without knowing my father, and looking up instead to male role models from the pages of National Geographic or the books I’d take out from the library, with names like Shackleton, Scott, Nansen, Hillary, Bonington and Swan.

I wanted to do the sorts of things that they had done, in the hope that I became that sort of man too. It took a couple of decades to realise, though, that contentment came from the making and not from the happening. I used to think the only valid definition of success was achieving your goal. To me now, it looks more like continuing to strive well.