I was working in industry for 15 years after getting a math degree. Everybody had their own crap story about what they'd be doing if they didn't have a family to support, or how they used to want to study architecture, or how the money's too good here to give it up and go be a concert pianist, whatever. Yawn. I meet very few people who are actually doing a job they want to do.
My crap story was wanting to go to medical school, probably starting when I was 33 when my niece was born. I talked the usual garbage about it, made excuses, etc. but I did get obsessed, and I couldn't stop reading about med students and residents and public health and Paul Farmer. I doubt I would have done anything about it, really.
But then I got sick with something that might have been chronically disabling, constant blood checking, scary meds, awful, and for 6 months of this I totally cowered down and took it and was afraid to lose my job thus my health insurance etc. etc. Then at my six month followup, the doc told me I was fine, really fine, it's over. He literally gave me permission to go to med school.
Left his office, went back to mine, wrote my resignation letter. Started bio & chem 2 weeks after that. I was 39. No husband or kids, no problems, no excuses.
So yeah, it got done in one day, but it took 6 years to get to that day.