Health / Mental Health / Parenting and Lifestyle / Personal Development / Self-reflection

And the road not taken looks real good now

What if the road not taken – the one where we pack up as a family, step away from the daily grind, and explore the world – is the path that actually leads me back to myself? What if it is the very thing that cures my burnout and helps me heal from Post-Concussion Syndrome (PCS)?

I have to agree with Taylor in ’tis the damn season’,

“And the road not taken looks real good now.”

’tis the damn season’, evermore ¹

It really does. This intense longing for a different path is fuelled by a lack of answers from the NHS and my current state of burnout, and is intertwined with our lifelong love for travel.

But most recently, it was ignited by the latest series of the BBC’s Race Across The World. The show has been a huge help to me during this period of burnout, offering a glimpse of genuine human warmth I desperately needed.

For anyone outside the UK who hasn’t watched it yet, the series challenges five teams to race thousands of miles across continents. The catch? They must travel entirely without smartphones, credit cards, or flights, only equipped with a world map and the cash equivalent of a one-way airfare; they must rely on local transport, strict budgeting, and sheer determination to reach the finish line.

It’s such a fun and inspiring show that a lot of my friends now dream of doing something similar. My husband and I even talk about how we will take on our own adventure when our kids are older, it will be Girls vs Boys or Brown Eyes vs Blue Eyes! We also joke about how we would have raced against each other in a past life: him with his best mate, and me with my friend, Gareth. Personally, I always envisaged Gareth and me beating them because of our shared love for maps.

In many ways, it’s strange that the show inspires so many people. At the end of the day, life on the road is tough. Over eight gruelling legs, contestants endure marathon journeys, stay in basic, low-budget accommodation, and are pushed to their absolute physical and mental limits. Yet, thousands apply every single year.

But why? Why are we so drawn to this programme? And why does this programme make me think about ‘the road not taken’?

First of all, the show shows the immense growth that these racers experience. Through intense hardship and simplicity, the contestants grow, create unbreakable bonds, and realise that life can be joyful without all the “stuff” we think we need. It also proves that the most brutal journeys often lead to the most life-changing rewards. I can relate to that on a deeply personal level. Through my own treacherous PCS journey, I am slowly coming to the same conclusion, too.

Secondly, watching the show is a form of escapism and reminds us of the raw beauty of our world and the immense healing power of nature. This year, the contestants travelled through parts of the ancient Silk Road, visiting breath-taking countries such as Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan. Seeing those remote, untouched landscapes on screen reminds us that the world is still a deeply beautiful place, full of natural wonders that uniquely heal our minds and souls.

Thirdly, the show highlights the pure kindness of strangers. Watching everyday locals across the globe open their hearts, share their limited resources, and guide these exhausted contestants, all while wanting nothing in return, is incredibly moving. Seeing their unconditional warmth directly contradicts my cynicism and reminds me that humanity is far kinder than I think. It’s just as Taylor sings in New Romantics:

“The best people in life are free.”

New Romantics, 1989 ²

So lately, I have started to think: Will I cure my burnout if I take ‘the road not taken’ yet and we go travelling as a family? Will my nervous system finally calm down if I step away from the institutional forces that fuelled my breakdown in the first place? Will my brain start to integrate my vestibular rehabilitation exercises better, meaning I’ll finally start feeling less dizzy? Will my headaches disappear if I move away from these chronic stresses?

Or am I just kidding myself? Will everything stay the same because the underlying structural issues of my brain injury haven’t been addressed yet, despite seeing over 20 doctors in the last two years?

The truth is that even watching this one-hour programme is currently a challenge for my brain, as it simply cannot cope with the motion yet. The contestants’ boat trips and bumpy off-road journeys make me feel dizzy, even while sitting safely on my sofa. Furthermore, the shaky, fast-moving cameras tracking them as they sprint to checkpoints overwhelm my vestibular system, resulting in a floating sensation and severe headaches.

I don’t know if taking ‘the road not taken’ will ever truly cure my PCS. But so many times, the longing for that unconventional, open, healing road becomes too loud to ignore. In those moments, I look at my husband and feel the overwhelming urge to say:

“Grab your passport and my hand.”

Blank Space, 1989 ³

The Concussion Girl

1. Swift, Taylor. “tis the damn season.” evermore. Taylor Swift, 2020. ↩︎
2. Swift, Taylor. “New Romantics,” 1989. Taylor Swift, 2014. ↩︎
3. Swift, Taylor. “Blank Space,” 1989. Taylor Swift, 2014. ↩︎