What Will You Do With Your Extra Hour?

This weekend, we “fall back.” Clocks retreat. We gain an hour.

An entire hour - 60 minutes of “found” time, a gift we didn’t earn and didn’t ask for. Most people will sleep through it. Some will binge another episode. A few will scroll social media until their thumbs go numb.

What will you do with yours?

Truth is, I’ve spent the last few years obsessed with time. Two cancer diagnoses will do that. You start counting—not sheep, but sunrises. You stop taking Mondays for granted. You realize that “someday” is a luxury you might not have.

So when someone hands me an extra hour, I pay attention.

Look, I’m not going to tell you to wake up at 4:00 a.m. and run ten miles. There’s no shame in sleeping in or watching football. Rest matters. Recovery matters. God knows I learned that the hard way, collapsing into bed at 8:00 p.m. during chemotherapy, my body begging for mercy.

But I am going to challenge you to be intentional about this hour.

Because here’s what cancer taught me: We waste so much time pretending we have an endless supply. We say “I don’t have time” when what we really mean is “I’m not making it a priority.” We claim we’re too busy while spending three hours scrolling through other people’s highlight reels.

The average American gets 27,375 days on this earth. That’s it. And we just got handed back 60 minutes. Put that way, it doesn’t seem like much. But neither is a single training run, and I’ve built entire marathons one mile at a time.

So what could you do with an extra hour?

You could call someone you’ve been meaning to reach out to. Not text. Actually call. Hear their voice. Make them feel seen.

You could write. That book, that blog post, that letter to your kids. Not the whole thing - just a start. One page. One paragraph. One sentence that’s been stuck in your throat.

You could move your body. Not because you “should,” but because you can. A walk around the block. Some gentle stretches. A bike ride through your neighborhood as the autumn leaves fall. Your body wants to be used, not just maintained. Otherwise it fails.

You could do absolutely nothing. Sit on your porch. Stare at the sky. Let your mind wander without a podcast in your ear or a screen in your hand. That’s not wasting time - that’s spiritual rest, and most of us are running on fumes.

You could tackle that one thing you’ve been avoiding. The doctor’s appointment you keep rescheduling. The financial records that need organizing. The closet that needs cleaning. Sometimes an hour of discomfort saves months of stress.

Here’s what you shouldn’t do:

Don’t let your gifted hour disappear without noticing. Don’t surrender it to the algorithm, to the endless scroll, to the numbing habits that make days blur into weeks. Don’t trade this gift for garbage.

I spent hundreds of hours training for triathlons - swimming, biking, running in the dark while the rest of the world slept. People thought I was crazy. Maybe I was. But those solitary miles gave me the mental toughness to survive two rounds of cancer. They taught me that hard things are worth doing. That showing up matters. That consistency compounds.

You don’t need to train for an Ironman. But you do need to show up for your own life.

An hour is enough time to start something meaningful. It’s enough to finish something important. It’s enough to rest deeply or move purposefully. It’s enough to connect or reflect or create.

This extra hour? It’s a microcosm of every choice we make. We can sleepwalk through it or we can be awake. We can drift or we can steer. We can let time happen to us or we can happen to time.

My challenge to you is simple:

Before you go to bed tonight, decide what you’ll do with that hour. Make a plan. Even if it’s to rest deeply and intentionally. Then do it. Actually do it.

And when Sunday evening arrives and that hour has passed, you’ll know. You’ll know whether you treated it like the gift it was or let it slip through your fingers like so many other hours before it.

Time isn’t replenishable. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. But right now, this weekend, you’re getting a little of it back.

Don’t blow it.

Every mile matters. Every hour matters. Every moment matters.

What will you do with yours?

If you loved this article and would like to spend more time reading, please check out my book, Every Mile Matters: Turning Triathlon Training Into Cancer Triumph - available in hardcover, softcover, Kindle and audiobook.