Tag: retirement

Nat enjoys the gifts of a long goodbye
Sat with Nat

Nat enjoys the gifts of a long goodbye

natalieh (she/her)2 Comments

Social connection is an important factor in wellbeing. And if the past week is any indication, I will be well for a very long time.

Three months ago I gave my notice of retirement to my boss. Halfway through my mini-speech he joked “no, you can’t leave. We are supposed to win at capitalism together!”

And that joke set the tone of the next three months. Once we had settled on a plan we let my team know my retirement date and put a call out for my replacement.

Then something unexpected happened. My in office days became much more social. People I knew but didn’t see much in my current role started dropping by my desk or talking to me in the cafeteria.

It was a gentle touch on my arm, a smile or a hug. Sometimes it was a teasing or a confession of jealousy. All of it gifts of connection that just kept coming.

Part of me worried that this long goodbye was self indulgent. I know plenty of people who pull an “Irish Goodbye”. It’s when you just walk out of work and no one knows you have retired.

I’m here to tell you to not do that. If, like me, you have the privilege of choosing when you leave your paid work, choose a long goodbye.

Your colleagues need time to hear the news, come see you and bring you stories.

I worked in production when I joined Canada Life (then London Life). Two years in I became a leader. I’ve led 8 teams over 9 years. That’s a lot of people!

And so many of them reached out.

“Thank you for treating me like a human being.”

I’m crying just writing that. It seems like such a low bar to meet. To just relate to each other as people who matter. And we do matter.

I was told so many stories about how I helped someone through tough times by caring and being flexible.

There is definitely one person who is alive today because I took their mental health concerns seriously. Talk about making a difference.

I was delighted how many people told me they read this blog about fitness. Some folks follow me on Instagram or have added me on Facebook to see my morning cycling commute videos.

“Will you keep posting about cycling?”

Turns out those quick, off-the-cuff videos encourage lots of folks to be more active. What a gift to know I help them.

So many parties

This past week I went out 4 nights with different groups of friends to say goodbye. It was marvelous. So many good laughs and hugs.

Princess planned her own party

Since I’m technically just quitting my job there was no formal retirement company gift or funds for a party. So I decided I’d just put the word out that people could say goodbye Thursday morning 10 – 11:30 in a common use space near the cafeteria.

I invited a couple hundred people expecting maybe 30 to show up.

In the weeks running up to the day declines and quick messages trickled in.

“I’m still sick.”

“My dad’s in hospital.”

“I’m out of town.”

I had a creeping concern I’d be sitting by myself in a tiara feeling stupid. That fear is why many people choose not to have a reception.

Uh. My fears were unfounded. My colleague baked THREE CAKES. As she was unboxing them people started arriving, then forming a queue. The line-up went out the door, around the corner and down the hall.

My buddy dressed in her inflatable dinosaur costume. It was a carnival atmosphere.

A crowd in a hallway. In the distance you can see a dinosaur. Thank you Marc for the photo!

The line was full of laughter and folks being delighted to see other friends and connecting.

The line was so long some people had to leave for meetings and sent quick notes after.

Sharing is caring

Sharing fitness adventures at work, posting fitness stuff on LinkedIn where everyone is focused on business is so important. Our activities can give us a common base to build on. It helps us see each other as full people, not just interchangeable production units.

Long post, long goodbyes

I’m writing this Saturday morning while eating more cake with my coffee.

I’m looking at the mountain of thoughtful gifts and funny cards. People took time to know me and the gifts reflect the crafty, active plant lady I am. How marvelous.

A giant “love fern” is surrounded with cards and gifts.

Don’t forget the swearing

I’m known for cussing a blue streak in meetings. People find it hilarious. So when my team gave me a goodbye card I was delighted it read “Thanks for leaving us behind, asshole.” I couldn’t stop laughing.

They 3D printed a gift card holder “Fucking quitter. Oops we mean HAPPY RETIREMENT”

I’m still laughing. Perfect!

So. Yes. Long story longer. The long goodbye makes room for connection and closure. 10/10 I will long goodbye again.

camping · cycling · fitness · Guest Post · traveling

Riding Solo, Part 2: Baggage (Guest Post)

Sam B1 Comment

by Julia Creet

I wrote in my first post that every material aspect of touring by bike seems to have a metaphorical one as well. How you pack your bags might be the most obvious.

Baggage. It’s a loaded word that translates directly to a loaded bike.

The multiple decisions of what to take and leave tell you so much about your need for comfort, the things you think you can’t live without, the fear that you might need something and not have it, or suffer for not having it, or feel foolish for not having it, or feel equally foolish for having pushed it and hauled it and never used it.

The novice bike adventurer, that is me, has to rely on other peoples’ lists, what experience has taught them is necessary—or extraneous. The first decision, and one with the biggest consequences for your route and weight is whether or not to camp.

Cruising from bed to bed is delightful—and much lighter—but a tent and sleeping bag and a little mattress and a tiny stove and pot and an areopress gives you ultimate freedom and coffee in bed in the most delicious places. It’s a paradoxical combination of baggage and freedom. Camping will easily add ten lbs to the bike but will allow you to pull off the road wherever you can. Everything else is a question of comfort and fear.

Like most riders, I performed the ritual of unloading, sending home a package of heavy and accumulated light things—each light thing feels like nothing on its own—after riding for just a few days. Some of my protection and comfort and cleanliness went with those things, but hauling them around just wasn’t worth the weight. You see the obvious psychic metaphor here.

And, a week later, as I contemplate the mountains of Cape Breton, I’ve deemed another bag of stuff not worth the drag. The bike is still very heavy. I haven’t weighed it; I don’t want to know. I’ve climbed a few steep hills now and know that I can crawl up just about anything, but no question, I feel every ounce.

Have I missed anything I’ve let go? Can’t even remember what I packed off, except that most of it I bought last minute and because I was checking off other peoples’ lists. What’s the heaviest thing you cannot do without? Water. Unlike everything else, you need more of it than you think you do.

I think about weight and baggage with almost every pedal stroke. If even the minimum I have now feels too much, what about all the things I have left behind? The one object I keep excising and adding back in—and here my attachments as a recovering English Prof are most obvious—is a book.

Julia Creet is a recovering academic who just wants to ride her bike.

camping · cycling

Riding Solo, Part 1 (Guest Post)

Sam B5 Comments

by Julia Creet

I blame Cate Creede. She made it look so good, so easy. Just hop on your bike and go… wherever your legs will take you. No waiting for others, or trying to catch up. No discussions about decisions, where to go, when to stop, what to eat. Complete unstructured freedom.

That was the appeal. It seemed like a strange appeal after two years of more isolation than I could barely tolerate. Why chose then a trip on which I would mostly cycle alone?

I had an inkling that it would serve so many deep purposes for me. A chance for the wind to unravel the wired knots of my brain, cinched by two years of technology and teaching. Time to think through the decision to retire after twenty-five years of a full-on academic career.

And I needed new conversations. Riding alone would open my bubble to anyone who crossed my path. That felt exciting and random and the very opposite of my shrinking social circle and the rigid structures that were my scaffolding for surviving these strange last two years.

So here I am wandering around Nova Scotia, my home in my panniers, learning to crawl hills and stealth camp. I have some thoughts I’ll share along the way. Every material aspect of riding seems to have a metaphorical one as well. So thanks Cate. You said this to me early on in one of our chats about riding solo. “And for me there is something I really love about ending up in some random place with terrible food and knowing that I got there on my own.” You were right.

Julia Creet is a recovering academic who just wants to ride her bike.

competition · cycling · fitness · Guest Post · racing · running · swimming · triathalon

Is this what retirement is like? (Guest post)

Sam B16 Comments

by Mary Case

Day one of retirement was officially declared a “jammie” day. No alarm clock, a pot of tea, a good book, feet up, sitting in front of the fireplace. It was blissful and lasted almost ninety minutes.

Author in a comfortable arm chair, sitting in front of a fireplace with her feet up, reading a book with her dog at her side.

And then that was enough for the dog who, delighted that there was another human home, insisted on a walk.

Somewhat reluctantly I changed out of my jammies.

It is so quiet and peaceful on this crisp winter’s day.  No noise except the occasional passing car. Was this what it’s like, this retirement thing?

I returned home an hour later, fully intending to return to my perch. (My colorful, cozy jammies now replaced with walking gear, looking suspiciously like running gear), and then I had a vision: an empty pool, a lane to myself perhaps. Was that actually possible? 

Empty YMCA pool.  All lanes free.

It was too irresistible, and so the perch by the fireplace was abandoned again. And there it was: my empty lane. Two kilometres of blissful, uninterrupted swim strokes.

Was this what retirement is like?

The choice to retire from teaching elementary school music was a tough one. I loved my job and was not particularly desperate to get out. 

I had a fulfilling and vibrant career but, I was curious what life would be like on the other side. 

Last fall, in a moment of “but what will I do when I retire?” I wondered what it would be like to be a gym rat, and so I approached my computer in search of half ironman races. These are called 70.3’s in the triathlon world. It seemed a good idea at the time, and it was a distance that my years as a triathlete had prepared me for. 

I chose a date. May 31st, that worked for me. It would have been concert prep time, if I was not retired. 

I chose a location. Connecticut, I could drive there. 

Done! I signed up. 

Oops. I missed a little bit of homework here. I found out later that this half ironman is called the Beast of the East. 

As I write this blog, week one of retirement is almost over. It’s also my 59th birthday. I think about this “fitness” thing. For me, it’s always about the joy of seeing what my body is capable of. I do not have a point of view about speed, competition, losing weight, or much of anything else. 

I love a challenge; my body loves to move endlessly, and the amazing thing is that I am fitter, faster and stronger than I have ever been. 

I think I might  be able to get used to the quiet, the recovery time and being able to head to the gym, my trainer or the road, at hours that do not involve the numbers 4, 5, or 6 attached to “a.m.” 

I think I can get used to this thing called retirement. And who knows, hills may just become my new best friends. 

Author, School photo.  Looking very professional in a pink top and pearls.

Mary is a recently retired Elementary School Music Teacher, an Energetic Body Worker and a professional violinist. When not involved in any of the capacities mentioned above, she can often be spotted in water, on a bike, or running to prepare for her next triathlon.  

aging · athletes · fitness · training

The retirees’ advantage? Time to train

Sam B7 Comments

I’m coming up on that odd stage of life where I am still working furiously and passionately, but other people in my life, friends, and family, not so much. A bunch of people close to me are counting down to retirement or moving to part-time work. I’m super engaged with my work and on balance, I don’t think I’d want what they have.

Different strokes, as they say. Or, you do you.

I love my job but come spring, there are twinges of “their grass is greener.”

Why? More time to ride bikes and to travel. Our recent post on very old cyclists made me smile. I also wished I had time to ride more than 100 miles a week. I do actually but for the Canadian climate and the lack of winter time daylight. I’ve often thought about how nice it would be to go somewhere warm and ride through January-March.

I wrote about this a few years ago in a blog post called, Silver spoons and the advantage of wealth in the context of time to train and youth sports.

‘When my partner Jeff was young he raced small sailboats, lasers, pretty competitively. But he never had a chance against some of his friends who made it all the way. Not for lack of talent. Instead, the dividing line was money. The wealthy kids had all the equipment, of course, but more than that they had time to train.

There was no pressure to work and they could sail all summer. Now that’s just part of the story but it was striking to watch those who never had to work make their way through university, keeping up in their sport along the way. And it’s true for lots of sports. I once complimented my son for making the provincial rugby team. He quickly pointed out that he wasn’t the best, just the best of those kids whose parents could afford the registration fees and commit to all that driving. Smart kid.”

It’s true in youth but it’s also true in midlife. Again, those for whom early retirement or part time work is a choice there are training advantages.

More from the older post:

“We thought that once parents stopped supporting their kids that the playing field would level out a bit. Not so much. I wrote earlier this week about working part-time and early retirement. I approached the question from the perspective of health and overall well-being but you could also ask it from the point of view of sports performance. Each spring I struggle to balance end of term grading with the start of the cycling season. It’s tough. I’ve got a friend who is a tax accountant and she struggles too. Tax time is peak early season training time.

While we struggle, I’ve also got friends who post their “Retired Guys Rides” on Strava and Facebook. They’re time flexible. They can wait for the sunshine and warm weather. They can ride everyday if they want. Sometimes I’m jealous.

Some of these same people also go south in the winter and ride. Why not?”

I’ve been wondering for awhile how much work is healthy. See Working hard or hardly working?

Retirement is associated with all sorts of bad health outcomes. And I think it’s be very bored. Given the number of dependents in my life I can’t afford it either. My favorite? Less work for everyone. I’d love to see the 4 day workweek.