Everybody speeds in the fast lane truly now
Revvin' through the gears Tryin' to keep ourselves from stressing out, ah
Take a look in your heart and your soul
This is really it? Is it all that you are?
We're so caught up in the riddle
And we suffer for so little, oh Lord
Holding back the tears on the last train homeward bound
It's been 27 years and you've only now just figured out, how?
But when you're caught up in the riddle, man
Your pride ain't worth a nickel, no, no” —Rationale, Fast Lane [link here]
I was in the gym the other night when this song came on. As I worked through my circuit, I reflected on a time when these lyrics hit me like a ton of bricks. Back then, though, I heard the words loud and clear, and yet, I still didn’t listen to my inner voice until it was too late. I’ve never shared this out loud before, so let me paint a picture for all you high achievers out there…
The Relentless Pace of High Achievement
It was mid-2019, pre-COVID. My company was on its fourth CEO in as many years, and yet another strategy shift was forcing my already hard-working team to scrap and redo months of effort. I could see their exhaustion. I felt it, too. I was always on—email, text, ready to run harder, faster, make another impact. But to what end?
One morning, I commuted to work as usual—ferry to San Francisco, then a walk to the office. That day, instead of cramming in calls, I chose music. And that’s when Fast Lane came on. I’d heard it before and I loved its sound, but that morning, I really heard it. I played it again. And again. By the time I reached my office, I was holding back tears. How did I get here? Is this really it?
The Illusion of Success
As a high achiever type, I pushed myself relentlessly—always striving, never slowing down. Somewhere along the way, I became someone who equated my worth with how much great work I could do. A perfectionist always chasing the next milestone, the next gold star. I set impossibly high expectations for myself—and unintentionally, for those around me, too. More than once, colleagues told me they worked hard to impress me. That always gave me pause, but I never slowed down long enough to really reflect on what that meant.
On the surface, I had it all—confidence, energy, a strong network, the reputation of a ‘rock star.’ But below that? Self-doubt. Fear of not measuring up. Anxiety about making the ‘wrong’ move.
Burnout sneaks up on you. You don’t realize you’re in trouble until you’re already running on fumes.
I was doing everything “right”—and I was working out, eating healthy—but the stress of always being on was taking its toll. Without any real balance, I lost my creative spark. I was so busy achieving that I stopped noticing the richness in people, opportunities, and even my own life.
The Wake-Up Call—Or Three
That song wasn’t my first wake-up call. And, unfortunately, I didn’t let it be my last. It took three wake-up calls—ending with one I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy—before I finally said, 'Enough is enough!'
After that commute, I made a conscious effort to walk away from the fast lane. I resigned. Twice in a week! I remember smiling as I did it – a feeling of freedom came over me. But when the person I resigned to dangled the ‘perfect’, ‘high impact’ opportunity in front of me, I allowed myself to get pulled back in. I worked tirelessly, held up my end of the bargain, and—unsurprisingly—was left empty-handed when promises weren’t kept. Lesson learned.
Then came the real wake-up call: December 2020.
I was set to be the first woman keynote speaker at our 2021 global sales kickoff—what an opportunity! I would surely energize the global team! But two weeks after our kickoff planning call, I got an unexpected call from my doctor.
Stage 3 endometrial cancer.
Instead of giving that keynote, I went into aggressive treatment. And during chemo, I had this epiphany: Why am I less stressed saving my life than I was in the last few years at my company?
That was it. That was the moment I knew. I resigned for good the day my leave of absence ended.
The Shift: From Speed to Wisdom
Not everyone needs to walk away from their career to step out of the fast lane. For some, it’s about redefining success within their existing role—setting better boundaries, pausing to reflect, and leading with intentionality rather than just momentum. For me, leaving was the right decision, but the real shift wasn’t about quitting—it was about choosing a different way to lead and live.
Looking back four years later, I see life through a very different lens. Cancer made me intentional about my choices. It taught me to focus on what I can control and stop wasting energy on what I can’t. I realized that high achievement without pause isn’t just unsustainable—it steals from everyone’s wins, because constant motion blinds us to possibility.
When I became a leadership coach and started my own business, it wasn’t because I had everything figured out. It was because I knew that, as an achiever, I would figure it out. I leaned into curiosity. I became a better listener. I practiced what I preached. I built new habits. I got uncomfortable (still do daily) as I tested new ways of being. And through it all, I gained wisdom.
Do I always get it right? Of course not. But now, instead of chasing perfection, I choose something better:
I choose quality of work AND life.
Wisdom isn’t just about knowing when to push forward. It’s about knowing when to pause.
A New Definition of Success
Today, as the founder and head coach at The Lens Leadership, my mission is to help high achievers experience courage, joy, connection, growth, and ownership of their purpose—whatever that may be.
I work with ambitious professionals who have outward success but feel stuck in the never ending cycle of doing more. They’re craving clarity, purpose, and intentionality to align their life and work with what truly matters. And it’s amazing to watch them become more energized, productive, and fulfilled—not by doing more, but by leading differently.
Was my 27-year tech career a waste? Absolutely not. Every lesson I earned along the way adds another layer to the work I do now. One of the most valuable? The power of pausing.
Slowing down isn’t a weakness—it’s the key to lasting impact.
The Train Homeward Bound
Coming back to Fast Lane:
“Holding back the tears on the last train homeward bound It’s been 27 years, and you’ve only now just figured out, how?”
When I took that walk to work in 2019, I remember being disappointed in myself. How did I get this far and still feel like something was missing? I didn’t know the answer then. But I do now.
Four years later, I’m healthy. Energized. Creative. Courageous. A learner. A listener. I have balance—and I worked damn hard for it.
So, let me leave you with this:
What’s the real cost of staying in the fast lane? And what could be possible if you choose another way?
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