Yesterday was a day of quiet time and reflection for me—a forced slowdown after my body decided it had had enough of my constant multitasking and ignored warnings. This entire year has been a relentless stretch of challenges and tight deadlines. Every time someone said it would be impossible to complete a project by a certain date, my response was always the same: hold my beer. Yes, the chaos was self-inflicted. I own that. But what can I say—I have an almost reckless amount of belief in what can be achieved when a group of capable, autonomous engineers who trust each other come together around a shared purpose.
Looking back at what we’ve delivered this year—major features and platform improvements in March, May, September, October, and more lined up for November and December—it’s been wild. Fast-paced. Unforgiving at times. I’ve had to step in more than once to politely deflect requests for even more work before the year ends. But here’s the thing: even when things looked chaotic, or when teammates doubted the feasibility of our goals, I could see something they sometimes couldn’t—their potential. Their grit. Their ability to solve hard problems with creativity and tenacity.
Engineers have a natural tendency to overengineer or get overwhelmed by the end state of a problem. They see the giant mountain and talk themselves into believing it can’t be climbed. I’ve seen it over and over. People like to blame unclear product requirements, and sure, that happens. But I’ve yet to meet a product manager who complains when an engineering team proposes a clear, incremental delivery plan—what I call the crawl, walk, run approach.
Let me put it this way: if someone asks you to bake a five-tier wedding cake covered in sugar flowers and fondant dragons, don’t start by preheating six ovens and cracking 48 eggs. Start by handing them a cupcake. Let them taste it. Get feedback early. Adjust. Iterating early beats apologizing later.
That’s been my role this year more than anything else—not writing code or making Gantt charts but keeping everyone focused on phased execution. Guiding us back to sanity whenever anyone got overwhelmed by the big picture and forgot to start with the cupcake.
But let’s be honest—this pace takes a toll. And because I ignored all the warning signs my body was sending me over the last couple of weeks, it decided to escalate the situation. It took full advantage of my COVID booster shot on Sunday and by late Monday morning, it staged a full revolt. Chills. Fatigue. That “you’re not winning this argument” kind of message. So for the last two days, I surrendered. I slowed down. I read. I wrote. I rested. I let my body recover.
Now I feel recharged and ready for the final push. Two more milestones to go before we wrap up 2025 with a sense of pride, momentum—and maybe even a little peace.
Photo by Emily Studer on Unsplash