My old job just opened again, the one just 30 minutes from my home. It’s under new management now. Funny enough, the manager running it is the same one I was originally supposed to work with when I first got the position. Then she left, and I ended up with someone else. Someone tough to work for.
Now I’m doing a 2-hour commute every day because of it. It’s been 3 years. But honestly, I’m better off. My current job is fun in its own way, challenging, complicated, and full of opportunities to improve. It keeps me on my toes, and I’ve grown from it.
Still, today I got a couple of messages from my old team: “Please apply. We liked working with you.” And I’ll admit, it made me pause. Because I liked working with them too.
But when I really think about it… I’m better off now…. Right?
It’s Wednesday, and I still don’t have an appointment for my biopsy. I had been told to expect a call by today, but no such luck.
At lunch time, I called Dr. S office. “No, ma’am, we don’t have the referral just yet,” said the kind administrator. “But let me go ahead and set up your chart so that once we do receive the referral, our coordinator can move forward with scheduling.”
I gave her my information, hung up, and immediately called my primary. “Hi, I’m calling about a referral.” “Yes, ma’am, is this regarding the CPAP?” “No, this is about the biopsy.” “Oh yes, I see that right here too. We’ll send the referral to the fax number once again.” “Ok, Great! Thanks,” I said, and hung up.
Later that evening, after work, I tried reaching the specialist’s office again, but by then they had already been closed for an hour according to their answering service.
“I’ll try again tomorrow” I thought.
Thankfully, work has been an incredible distraction. It always has been. This weekend I’m scheduled to work, and for once I’m grateful. Staying busy keeps me from sitting in the silence of the unknown, letting my mind spiral. It’s the long drives, the late nights, the idle moments when the thoughts begin to eat away at you.
And today’s driving thoughts? How our healthcare systems need improvement. We’re still using fax machines to transmit critical referrals? There’s no universal system to manage them? No secure real-time dashboards that can track the process without violating HIPAA? The handoffs between patient, doctor, insurance, imaging, and paperwork form a maze that slows care. In medicine, process improvements aren’t just helpful…..they’re necessary.
During the commute…I tried calling my brother, hopeful he would pick-up so I could inform him of what’s going on, only to discover he had changed his number. Not what I expected.
When I finally got home, a letter from the mammogram center was waiting.
It was the report.
Findings: 1 cm x 0.9 cm x 0.8 cm irregular, echogenic mass with suspicion of malignancy, located at 3 o’clock posterior depth on the left breast. Results labeled “Abnormal/Suspicious,” with a recommendation for an ultrasound-guided core biopsy.
Of course, I had to look it up. The possible causes range from benign to malignant. My hope is still firmly with benign…. and I’m anxious to see the confirming data.
Well, in the words of a Courageous Cowboy: Let ’er buck.
At 4:15 p.m., I went in for a short notice doctor’s office visit. They called me into a small waiting room where the nurse checked my weight and vitals…120/60 blood pressure, 100% oxygen, and a resting heart rate of 52 bpm. “Looks good,” she said with a smile. “Dr. C. will be with you in just a minute,” she added in her soft Southern drawl.
I sat in the cold, refrigerator-like room, taking in its minimalist cleanliness, the bare walls, the neatly organized tools, the set of ear canal testers. It was quiet, almost too quiet, until the sliding door opened and Dr. C stepped inside.
“Hello,” she greeted. “Howdy,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood.
“Now, I’m assuming they’ve already gone over this with you?” she asked gently.
I explained that I had received a call from the physician at the Mammography center. They confirmed it was not a cyst…it was a mass.
“Correct,” she said, glancing at the report. “They want you to get a biopsy, and that will be scheduled at a doctor’s office. I’d recommend N.F. They have two excellent doctors there, and one in particular has an excellent bedside manner.”
She looked at me carefully. “How do you feel about that?”
I told her that a friend had recommended a doctor at the F. , Dr. S., and that I would prefer the referral be sent to her office instead.
She nodded. “That’s fine. Just so you’re aware, if it turns out to be positive, the doctor’s office will take it out.”
“Positive?” I echoed.
“Cancer,” she clarified, hesitating, as though the word itself was heavy.
I had already noticed her body language when she entered, hesitant, with the kind of facial expressions that say I don’t want to have this conversation with my patient. The concern in her posture said the rest.
“Well, there’s still a chance it could be nothing, correct?” I asked.
“Yes, of course,” she assured me.
She reminded me that she had read biopsy reports before that turned out benign.
I told her, I’d remain optimistic that this too would amount to nothing.
I checked out, walked to my car, and drove home. But when I stepped out of the garage and made the short walk to my front door, the weight of it all finally hit me. In that hollow stretch of silence, I couldn’t help but shed a few tears.
Because writing is therapeutic, I return here to share my thoughts. This past weekend, I found myself lost in reflection. A recurring health issue has resurfaced, leaving me in limbo as I wait for results and the feedback that will shape what comes next. A biopsy is on the horizon, and my mind wrestles with the uncertainty—telling me there’s a 50/50 chance that everything will be fine, that nothing serious is wrong. Until I know, I sit in the tension of hope and worry, learning to wait with patience and strength.
As I continue focusing on optimal health, I’ve noticed real improvements since starting the 75 Hard challenge just 12 days ago. In that time, I’ve already lost 3 lbs, and today I spent time fine-tuning my dietary plan.
I’m determined to push harder and break into the 140s — it’s been a long time since I’ve been below 150, and when I get there, I’ll celebrate that milestone.
This weekend has been both restful and productive. Since my husband’s accident, I’ve had more time at home to reflect, reset, and invest in myself. Life truly becomes what we make of it.
Now, I’m looking ahead with excitement — three marathons this weekend and a jigsaw puzzle competition in October. Here’s to progress, perseverance, and purpose.
We’ve stepped into August, and the world keeps turning. Even amidst earthquakes, tsunami warnings, and tropical storms, life carries on. In the face of uncertainty, it’s my routine that anchors me and helps me move forward with intention.
To bring focus and meaning to my time here, I’ve identified 8 Core Life Projects—areas of deep importance where I choose to invest my energy and attention:
Health and Vitality – To cultivate strength, resilience, and well-being.
Relationships and Community – To foster meaningful connections and mutual support.
Purpose and Career – To align my work with what truly matters.
Intellectual and Spiritual Growth – To seek wisdom, understanding, and inner peace.
Wealth and Freedom – To build financial security and personal autonomy.
Adventure and Challenge – To embrace exploration, courage, and growth through discomfort.
Creativity and Expression – To give voice to my imagination and share my truth.
Legacy and Impact – To leave the world better than I found it.
Each of these projects carries a guiding objective—together, they form the compass by which I navigate life’s ever-changing tides.
It’s been quite a week, and unsurprisingly, I find myself turning back to journaling. Last Monday, my husband was in a cycling accident. I won’t go into the details, but life shifted in an instant. Things aren’t the same, but he’s alive, and most importantly, his mind is intact. For that, I’m deeply grateful.
Still, everything feels different. I’ve stepped into the caregiver role again, one I know well from the cancer years. It’s a familiar rhythm, and I feel equipped, hardened in some ways by everything endured this year. No tears. No outbursts. Just a quiet, steady resolve: We will get through this. And we will.
Since we’re homebound for now, I’m focusing inward…..writing, reading, and recommitting to my own health goals. The 75 Hard Challenge had been going well; I made it to Day 25 and lost 10 pounds. I paused when he landed in the trauma unit Monday night, preparing for early morning surgery. There was no way to squeeze in a second 45 minute indoor workout.
But now we’re home, and recovery has begun. I’ve restarted the 75 Hard challenge. Today is Day 2.
Yesterday, I met with my writing mentor. She arrived with an air of quiet confidence, dressed in a crisp royal blue blouse and a matching deep stone sapphire ring, a sleek black skirt, and purple framed glasses that added a touch of creativity to her otherwise professional look. Her presence commanding attention. I couldn’t help but feel engaged as we dove into our discussion.
We booked a small study room at the local library. It was a perfect size I’d say 8 x 10ft… quiet, tucked away, and private enough that no one could overhear our conversation. The walls were bare, with only a whiteboard… just the kind of blank canvas I need for enhanced concentration.
I prepared a meeting agenda. I hoped it would help guide our discussion and keep us focused on the specific topics I planned in mind. She appreciated the structure, making a positive comment on my planning skills. She had only brought with her the first two pages and an outline of her own book project.
We began with a review of the progress. I talked about completing research on running associations, my ongoing struggle with identifying my deeper “Why” and the current challenges I’m facing with organizing the flow of the content.
I asked, “Can the ‘Why’ change? Why I ran? And Why I’m writing?”
She smiled and said, “Of course it can.”
“Oh, ok. Well, that certainly makes it easier.” I replied, feeling a weight lift.
We talked about pen names and the reason behind them. She had me read aloud an excerpt of her new book. She asked what my biggest takeaway had been from the last meeting we had. I mentioned the amount of learning about the running community, race directing, course certification processes, marketing the sport, attracting different types of people to it and coaching.
I told her I’d like to coach or teach others about running and had completed my first course on how to lead run groups from the Road Runners Club of America, perhaps that may be where my purpose lies.
“Great!” she said. “Use that. Make that your reason for writing this book, and yes, it can change later.”
Simple. Clear. That clicked.
We discussed my outline, and she agreed it was strong.
My next task is to find a parallel between running and life and use that as the book’s central theme. It doesn’t need to follow a chronological order. It can flow naturally, guided by meaning rather than timeline. The key is to find a deeper theme…. something from life that running can reflect or amplify.
Most importantly the “hook.” Start with something that pulls the reader in immediately. Make them want to run with me.
She went off to mention that my deadline for having this done in a year is somewhat unrealistic.
I asked “Well then, what is a realistic deadline?”
I waited for a date or time frame, ready to jot it down in my notebook.
She said, “To have a book” then paused.
I waited. Listening. Hoping for her to say 2 years or 3. “Yes. What’s the timeframe?” I asked again.
“To have a book” she replied.
I looked at her, eagerly waiting for the calendar date, thinking she might have been running the calculation in her head.
She paused and looked at me. “There is no timeframe. There is no deadline. Simply To Have a Book.” her words came sharply, and precise this time around.
I can’t process that. I thought. I need to have a date. It’s what helps keep me disciplined. It’s what keeps me in the act of moving forward.
“Time adds Pressure.” she said.
I listened intently and confirmed the validity of her statement. True. I thought.
But pressure can be helpful. Right? It helps us become aware of our time limits. Helping us make the most of each day…. spending time with a sense of urgency. Also, pressure can help sharpen focus. I thought.
“The book will be done, when the book is done. When you read it and you wouldn’t change a thing.” Across the natural oak rectangular table, she looked me straight in the eyes and voiced gently, “No deadline.”
My name has been added to the 50 States Marathon Finisher List. With this milestone achieved, I’m ready to set my sights on the next big adventure: the Gobi March in Mongolia, scheduled for June 2026.
To prepare, I need to focus on improving my fitness by shedding a few pounds. My plan is to tackle the 75 Hard Challenge starting tomorrow.
After getting in shape, I will prepare for Gobi. Then After Gobi, I’ve decided to embark on the El Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in September. I intend on going solo, as I believe the journey’s true essence lies in experiencing it alone. While there was initial interest from a group of fellow marathon acquaintances keen on joining, I feel this trek demands a more personal, solitary approach.
From a previous post I find that rest simply isn’t an option for me. Recently, I’ve felt restless, especially during weekends when my time hasn’t been spent productively. Time is ticking, and I want to ensure it doesn’t slip away.
Deciding to go after the Gobi March hasn’t been without doubts. Stories of extreme challenges, such as a participant who suffered severe dehydration and was left brain-dead, or the harrowing tale of two runners caught in a brush fire during a race in Western Australia, gave me pause. But after some deliberation, I turned to my trusted “Coin of Indecision,” which I flip when faced with tough choices. Naturally, it landed on “Yes, do it!” and so, the decision was made.
This incredible journey all began in the simplest way: spinning a globe and letting my finger land on a random location……Mongolia. It’s funny how moments like these spark life-changing adventures. And now, here we go—ready for what’s next!
That’s the question I’ve been asked over and over this week. And honestly? My answer is: I don’t know.
Maybe I’ll write a book. Maybe I’ll walk the El Camino de Santiago. Maybe I’ll sign up for Racing the Planet’s Gobi March in Mongolia — a 155-mile ultramarathon through some of the toughest terrain on Earth. Maybe I’ll just start going to the gym again. Maybe I’ll focus on speed puzzling. Maybe I’ll move to Hawaii. Maybe I’ll train hard, get faster, and try to qualify for the Boston Marathon.
Or maybe — just maybe — I’ll rest.
But then I wonder: Do I have to be doing something constantly?
Unfortunately, the answer in my head is always: Yes. Time is ticking. I’m going to die. There’s no time for rest. I need to keep moving.
Running a marathon in all 50 states gave my life a clear purpose. It grounded me. I’m proud I achieved that goal.
Journaling was Recommended 