The ocean

The walk before it started

The night before my dedicated study period began, I went for a walk by the ocean. The air was crisp. The waves rolled in and out. None of it calmed me down.

These exams weren't just tests. They were gatekeepers to the career I'd spent years working toward. I understood that. What I didn't know was where to begin. What should my goal even be? Could I pick something ambitious enough to get me where I wanted to go, and still realistic? I was scared of failing, scared of the unknown, scared of falling short.

By the time I got home, I had a plan. I picked a goal and built backward from my exam dates. I'd been studying for boards through third year, so this wasn't a start from scratch. Dedicated was about sharpening what I had, finding the weak spots and polishing the rest.

The thing that finally gave my 26 days a shape was the practice exams. I read what other students said about which self-assessments were most useful, then laid out about ten of them across the calendar, with the ones I trusted most, like the Free 120, closest to test day. Before that schedule existed, I was overwhelmed. After it, I knew what every day was for.

The opening rounds

The first week felt like the training montage in a boxing movie. Gritty and tough, but full of promise. Every day I went back to material I hadn't touched in months, and piece by piece it came back. By the end of the week I felt stronger. It was like rebuilding muscle memory.

The middle rounds

Weeks two and three were the plateau, the part of the fight where nobody looks good.

I pushed harder and raised my daily question volume. Some days were about pure volume, grinding through as many questions as I could to hammer concepts in. Other days were slow and deliberate, or full simulations under real test conditions.

Then the setbacks came. Practice scores that went backward instead of forward. A tiredness that settled in after two straight weeks and didn't leave. I was running on fumes, and the finish line looked as far away as ever.

Breaking

One day, I broke. I couldn't keep going, not like that. I needed air and space and some kind of perspective.

So I went back to the ocean, the same place dedicated had started. This time I didn't think about my schedule or my goal. I walked along the shore and let the salty air hit me. Then I waded in and let the waves carry me, bobbing with their rhythm, and felt the weight start to lift.

Somewhere out there, it became clear. I didn't need to be perfect. I didn't need to know everything. What I needed was confidence: to trust the work I'd already done and walk into the exam with clarity instead of fear.

The last week

I went into the final week a different person. I wasn't scared of the exam anymore. I accepted that I wouldn't know everything and focused on showing what I did know.

My practice scores still swung, by nearly 10 points between my best and worst in that last stretch. That kind of swing is exhausting, because you never know which version of yourself will show up on test day. I spent time training myself to stop second-guessing and to trust my first instinct instead of digging for some half-remembered detail.

Exam day

When the day came, the nerves were there, but they didn't run the show. I was lucky to have good weather and took long walks on my breaks. The test was grueling, hour after hour of questions. By the last two blocks I was out of gas, running on willpower and training. It reminded me of my college football days, pushing through exhaustion on muscle memory.

I walked out expecting relief. Instead I felt numb. Everyone assumed I'd be happy to be done. I was too drained to feel anything, and the numbness quickly turned into doubt. I kept replaying the questions I'd missed.

Doing it again

As a DO student, I wasn't finished. My second board exam, COMLEX Level 2, was five days later.

Those days were brutal. My motivation was gone. I kept asking myself what the point was. I'd planned to review my biggest gaps and study OMM. None of that happened. Eventually I took one practice exam, did well, and mostly tried to get my head back to where it had been before Step 2.

I drove three hours to take Level 2. The shorter question stems helped, and I made it to the final section before I truly burned out. This time the details frustrated me more: small, specific facts you either knew or didn't. But walking out came with a huge relief. I was finally done.

The next day I flew to my wedding weekend. Even while celebrating one of the happiest days of my life, part of me was still stuck replaying exam questions. Eventually, the joy won.

266

On our honeymoon in Jamaica, the notification came that my Step 2 score was ready. My wife and I decided to face it together.

I opened it. 266.

Relief, joy and validation, all at once. All the work, the doubt and the sacrifice had paid off. For me, that was the peak of medical school, the moment everything I'd learned came together at the top of the mountain.

But the moment I think about most isn't the score. It's floating in the water two weeks into dedicated, finally letting go of the idea that I had to be perfect.

What I learned

• Practice scores fluctuate. Plateaus and dips in the middle of dedicated are normal, and they don't decide your result.
• Rest isn't wasted time. When I broke, stepping away is what got me through the last week.
• Confidence is half the battle. Trust the work you've done, and expect the days after the exam to be hard too.