People of Earth. This is my 2024 Year in Review post. Will it be funny? Will it be introspective? Gosh, I dunno. I read the news tonight and the temptation to go to bed three hours earlier than normal is strong. Let’s crack on and see where the muse takes me.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK WAS THAT FUCKING YEAR?

::cough:: Sorry ‘bout that. The muse has been up since 3am and is suffering from caffeine withdrawal.

As a whole my year was not so bad. Lots of training on the bike, did a few races, went to Mallorca (lovely!), spent time outside in Nature, read many books, watched quite a few good TV shows and movies. It was good. Stayed mostly healthy except for a moderate crash and a sinus infection. Colonoscopy was clean, Cardiac CT Scan was clean. Really not much to complain about.

On the flip side, an erratic and occasionally threatening coworker led me to quitting my job. The election was a gut punch and then a hard smack to the head followed by a full body dunking in snot. While school was amazing, it drained my savings and provided zero clarity as to what my future should hold. The three job hunts all ended up being a lesson in how much I am exhausted by tech and late state capitalism. And my social network seems to be dwindling down to what can only be described as threadbare.

Also. Entering 2025 feels like the start of a horror film. You saw the trailer. You want to yell, “No, no, don’t go in there! The MAGA! Run you fools!” It’s a tale absolutely terrifying in its inevitability of chaos, pain, and a constant disruption to our lives. The struggle to keep sane this year is going to take more patience and perspective than I am entirely sure I can bring forth.

But…we struggle anyway. Not because it will fix everything or even anything, but because the struggle itself defines who we are. We resist, we care, we engage, we joke, we try to be kind—because that's the version of ourselves we want to believe in. It matters little that the world shrugs at our efforts; what matters is that we chose to continue to be ourselves when giving up would have been so much easier.

I still do not know what will come or what I will choose. I am trying to keep true to a certain blue box loving character though: "Never cruel nor cowardly. Never give up. Never give in."

Last week I got a coronary calcium scan (aka CAC score or Heart Scan), and my score was 0. That means no calcification in my coronary arteries and a very low likelihood of coronary artery disease. Woot! Let me tell you why I decided to do this test in the first place—and why you might consider it too.

A coronary calcium scan is a noninvasive CT scan that takes a detailed image of your coronary arteries to detect calcium deposits (plaque). A score above zero means some level of plaque buildup, and the higher your score, the greater the risk of a blockage.

So why did I, a 45-year-old endurance athlete who doesn’t smoke, rarely drinks, eats healthy, exercises 12–20 hours a week, and has the most lovely hazel eyes, get this test? Well...

• I was diagnosed with high cholesterol earlier this year. (Thanks, family genetics. 🙃)
• There’s a history of cardiac events on both sides of my family.
• And lastly, a study Brendan Leonard (@semi_rad) shared in a blog post. It found that male marathon runners who had run at least one marathon a year for 25 years had 58% MORE calcium in their arteries than sedentary men.

It's been known for a while that daily exercise at a moderate intensity is a great preventer of heart disease. However, more and more research shows that endurance athletes are not bulletproof from heart problems. Brendan himself got this test after multiple friends discovered major blockages despite being fit.

So, I booked the scan. It took all of 20 minutes and cost $200—I literally spend that much on groceries in a week. The peace of mind and one more data point to help maintain my long-term health? Priceless.

Nearly every health issue I have had has been from injuries (so, so many). However, I have come down with a serious and ultimately fatal case of O.L.D., Onset of Lamentable Dilapidation. No more devil may care attitude. I waited over 10 years between physicals and that is simply no longer going to fly. Reaching middle age needs to start factoring into my approach to life.

Is it worth YOU getting this test? Maybe! Only you know your health and family history. I am sharing my story to raise awareness and nudge you toward it if you’re on the fence.

When you did not sleep well, still have a busted toe, the skies are grey and the temps are cool, and yet there is 5 hours of riding on the training plan for the day. Time to pull out the pre-ride music and dancing to find the energy to get out.

When you had 9 hours of biking planned for this weekend (not including prep or cleanup) and then you slammed your little toe into a box full of books Friday night causing quite a bit of cursing. It is slowly recovering but even with pain relievers it does not want to be in a shoe, especially a bike shoe. So. I’m essentially stuck at home with my foot elevated trying to entertain myself with books, shows, and little projects. I am so incredibly bad at sitting still.

Spent the better part of today doing some budgeting for various scenarios for 2025, including a potentially epic adventure in 2026. And? Well. My coffee shop habit is practically nothing compared to my food and bike expenses. Also. I made a tragic mistake not being born rich. #paulthoughts

Today on #paulthoughts. Zombie-ant fungus and all it suggests about possible parasitical control. Sleep well.

One of the holiday cards I created and sent way back in 2017. Thinking of buying in bulk in preparation for the next 4 years.

My alliterative autumnal adventure into academics has alas and assuredly adjourned.

Things concluded satisfactorily with a 94% in Biochemistry, 96% in Physiology, 97% in Intro to Neuroscience, and a lovely 100% in Immunology. And far more importantly, I learned a satisfying amount of science and medicine in these past 12 weeks.

Unfortunately, the time has come for a reckoning concerning my future. What is next? Or perhaps more clearly, what SHOULD be next, given the state of the United States but also my dwindling savings?

And. Ugh. I still do not know. Ever since the election, I have been battling a crippling case of “What is even the point?” which has not been good for motivation. And this past week severely drained my energy with 3 exams, a double colonoscopy for Tina, and an annoying cold. I am slowly bouncing back but it has been exhausting just getting back to a baseline of semi-functional.

I feel stuck. Education is exceptionally expensive and medical residency with 80 hour weeks sounds like a horror show. Of the 12 jobs I have applied for in the past month, I have gotten zero responses. While I find neuroscience fascinating, I am not sure I am cut out for PhD research. And, I expect Trump Presidency 2.0 to fuck over America and its economy for a generation.

Come on, Universe, send me a sign! Where should I go, what should I do?!

::crickets::

The lack of dramatic revelations and easy answers in my life continues to perplex its narrator. Tune in next time as I put a dozen options in a hat and just pick one. Medical school in Ireland? Endless biking vacations until the money runs out? A life of villainy in pursuit of justice? Who knows!

Tune in next week! Same Paul Time, Same Paul Channel.

Numb rage. That’s where I am at. Squeezing that rage so tightly that you dare not unclench because you’ll completely lose your shit. Knowing that your rage about the condition of your country continues to grow every single year. Wondering if there is an option to build a two car garage in your soul as you are soon going to need the extra space for your RAGE.

There are so many things wrong with this country that it defies belief. Climate emergency. Gun violence. Income inequality. Housing crisis. Health crisis. Infrastructure failing. Education gap. Mass incarceration crisis. Mental health crisis. Opioid epidemic. Personal and federal debt crisis. Racism. Misogyny. Police brutality. Gods above and below, it just goes ON and ON.

Yet we are nation of wealth and technological marvels. Movies. Music. Innovation. Culture. And a melting pot that for all its clashes, still manages to bring together people from every corner of the world. Finally, it gave people hope that things would slowly, painfully, stutteringly get better.

Not anymore. Half the electorate has rallied behind a leader who thrives on division, stoking fear and intolerance in pursuit of power. This isn’t just political—it’s a choice to abandon equality, empathy, and progress for promises of power and dominance. Instead of the slow, painful march toward a better society, we stand on the brink of unraveling, where gains made over generations risk being lost, and where unity and compassion are buried beneath selfish, divisive demands.

The dream that America might one day become its best self feels like it’s flatlining, lost to a brutal, careless undoing of that dream. What remains is a hollowed-out country, a nation tearing itself apart, clinging to greed, fear, and hatred as its guiding lights. And that makes me absolutely fucking furious. I don’t want your words of support, of cheer, of positive thinking, of jokes. I absolutely want those cretins to burn to ash.

But otherwise, I’m doing great. How about you?

Ah, crashing your bike. How humbling. How thrilling! Oh gods why does it hurt so much?

As I lay on the ground, trying to recall the 1.2 seconds of absolute shit that just happened, a couple of thoughts came to mind. First, am I broken, and how much? Second, what in all the levels of “what the fuck” just happened?

Pardon my French—I don’t speak it, and Latin’s a poor substitute. Onwards! These are serious matters!

My exceptionally muscular left buttock (photos not forthcoming, sorry) was in serious pain. My first thought was that I had possibly broken my hip. A bit earlier in life than expected, but I’ve always been a high achiever when it comes to injuries. My left arm was quite bruised and scraped up and the sharp grass that I had bounced into had caused some lovely lacerations. My head was desperately searching for a nearby church bell, because something was definitely ringing loud and clear.

Overall everything seemed intact but I was definitely going to need a steady stream of analgesics for the next few days. Near as I can figure, when I took a sharp turn around a concrete barrier at 18 mph, my wheel hit a dip in the dirt, and my left hand decided it had better places to be than the handlebar. I went flying, flipped onto my left side with the bike still attached to my feet, and bounced 10 feet through the grass. I would have loved to have seen video of this; I bet it looked terrible.

My bike lay in the grass nearby, calming waiting for the ride to continue as if nothing was amiss. It even landed drivetrain side up. Blessed be.

Since Tina was out of town and I figured all my bones and ligaments were intact, I made my way home with just a smidgen of blood oozing down my arm and only a few grimaces.

48 hours later and I am still a bit annoyed that I am not yet completely healed. My left side, which took the brunt of the crash, is still badly bruised. Stairs and walks longer than half a mile remain deeply unpleasant. 0 stars—would not recommend.