There is an ideal line through every corner.

You look ahead. Position yourself early. Commit to the turn. Move smoothly through it and come out exactly where you intended.

At least, that is how it works in theory.

On a real road, there is sometimes a fucking pothole right in the middle of the racing line.

That feels a lot like academia.

We are taught to choose a lane and follow it. Complete the PhD. Take the postdoc. Build the publication record. Win the grant. Establish the programme. Keep moving through each corner as though the road ahead will remain exactly as it appeared on the map.

So I commit to the lane.

I stay there partly because commitment feels like progress, but also because changing lanes feels dangerous. I ride defensively. I hold my position. I try to anticipate what everyone around me might do.

Then the road changes.

Funding disappears. Leadership changes. Collaborations fracture. Institutions restructure. The role that once seemed like the obvious next step no longer leads where I want to go.

Sometimes the pothole is not a temporary obstacle. Sometimes the road itself is telling you something.

The more experienced riders do not necessarily force themselves through the original line. They notice the conditions earlier. They adjust their speed. They change position deliberately. Sometimes they take another road entirely.

That is different from swerving in panic.

A good lane change begins before the obstacle. You look ahead. You check what is around you. You create space and move with intention.

Perhaps careers work the same way.

Just Lean in a little more.

Changing lanes does not mean the original decision was wrong. It means the conditions have changed, or perhaps you have. Experience is not demonstrated by remaining loyal to a route that no longer makes sense. Sometimes experience is knowing when to stop forcing the bike toward the line you chose before you could see the whole road.

The racing line is only ideal under ideal conditions.

Real roads have potholes, debris, blind corners, other vehicles and weather. Real careers have mortgages, families, institutional politics, strange opportunities, exhaustion, curiosity and entirely new versions of ourselves waiting further down the road.

The destination matters more than the lane.

Choose a line. Commit to it while it serves you. But do not become so attached to the original route that you stop reading the road.

Look through the corner.

Keep your eyes on where you want to go.

The bike will follow.