2. The Waiting

Waiting is a strange space to sit in.

It’s not the same as something being wrong — and it’s not the same as everything being fine. It’s somewhere in between. Unresolved. Uncertain. Quietly consuming more energy than I expected.

After withdrawing from Ironman, a lot of my time has been spent here.

Waiting for appointments.

Waiting for clarity.

Waiting to understand what I’m dealing with.

And in that waiting, I found myself constantly shifting between being completely fine… and not fine at all. Between putting on a brave face, and needing to feel the emotion.

There were moments where life carried on as normal — work, training, family — and I could almost put it to one side. And then there were moments where it came straight back to the surface, usually in the quieter spaces, when there was nothing else to distract from it.

Sharing It (Or Not Sharing It)

One of the hardest parts wasn’t just the waiting itself — it was deciding if and when to let people in.

I’ve never been someone who shares things immediately. I need time to process, to understand, to get my head around something before I talk about it. And this was no different.

Telling close friends and family felt significant.

Not because I didn’t think they’d support me — I knew they would — but because once it’s said out loud, it becomes more real. And I think part of me was holding onto that space where things were still unknown, still contained. I also didn’t want to cause any worry - when I myself didn’t know what we would be worrying about.

But as things progressed, I knew I couldn’t carry it quietly on my own. If one of my friends/family were going through this uncertainty, I would want to be able to be there for them.

And, as expected, the support has been there. Steady, grounding, and exactly what I needed — even if it took me a little while to open that door.

Still Showing Up

In the middle of all of this, there was still Ironman.

Not in the way I had originally planned — but still there.

I had the opportunity to be part of a relay team and take on the cycle leg. It felt like a way to stay connected to something I had committed to, without ignoring what was going on in the background.

And I’m really glad I did.

It wasn’t about performance.

It wasn’t about proving anything.

It was about showing up — in a way that felt right for where I was. Taking control.

There was something grounding about it. Being part of the day, the atmosphere, the community — it reminded me that even when plans change, you don’t have to step away completely.

You just find a different way to be in it.

Moving Forward

A few days after Ironman, I had my biopsy.

In some ways, having that done felt like a step forward — like moving out of the unknown and into something more concrete. As soon as this was done I felt a wave of short term relief. Even before the results were known, as I sat in the car after that appointment, my mind and my body relaxed, and I realised how exhausted I was from dealing with everything. 

Fast forward a few weeks and unfortunately the biopsy could not determine it was benign, and although it also couldn’t confirm malignancy, there are suspicious cells. A number of options were given to me, but I’ve made the decision to again, take control, and move ahead with surgery to remove the lump (on my thyroid).

There’s something about having a plan again that brings a sense of calm. Not because everything is solved — but because there is direction. A next step. Something to move toward, rather than just waiting.

What This Season is Teaching Me

If there’s one thing I’m learning through all of this, it’s that not everything needs to be pushed through or figured out immediately.

Sometimes you sit in the waiting.

Sometimes you take a step back.

Sometimes you adjust the plan.

And sometimes, you do all of that while still showing up in the parts of life that matter — just in a different way than you expected.

I don’t know exactly what the next few weeks will look like.

But I do know this — I’m moving forward with more awareness, more patience, and probably a different definition of strength than I had before.

And for now, that feels like enough.