Retirement Lessons: Harder than it looks

Nearly 5 months in, I'm just starting to get my head around what it means to be retired.  It's harder than it looked before I took the plunge - mostly because the days aren't anywhere near long enough to do all I want to do, but also because things haven't unfolded exactly as I expected.

To begin with, I spend much more time doing household chores than I imagined - which is only fair, given that Husband did the bulk of them during my last few years of work. Still, I didn't anticipate how much time chores and puppy care would consume each week.

Then there were the all the long-postponed projects to contend with - clearing out the attic, disposing of unwanted items, planning renovations, organizing photos and memorabilia, researching my grandmother's life, etc. Each of them has taken far more time that I thought it would. I've made a good amount of progress on most things but I'm still a long way from finished.

Then there were the psychological and emotional challenges of my new status - glad to be retired but anxious to make positive contributions to family, friends and community and struggling to nurture good mental health in the face of seemingly insurmountable environmental, political and economic injustices.

And finally there were a number of physical issues to contend with. I'd presumed the aches and pains that had plagued me for years would disappear immediately once work was behind me, but of course that hasn't happened. In fact, some issues became more troublesome when I returned to regular exercise. As a result, I'm nowhere near as fit as I hoped to be at this stage - though I managed to run a 5 mile race in a respectable time this morning - and the arthritis in my hands, feet and knees is making everything more difficult.

Don't get me wrong. I wholeheartedly recommend retirement, and am deeply grateful I'm able to do this. It's just that I don't feel completely comfortable with it yet. Retirement feels a bit like early adulthood, in as much as the possibilities feel endless, but that there's a greater sense of urgency too - urgency that stems from realizing I have only a few years left and wanting to be selective about what I do with them.

Whatever the future holds, I hope I continue to appreciate the beauty, love and kindness that remains in this world. After all, it's the stuff that makes life worth living.

So long, 2017! Onwards to 2018!

A Christmasy family portrait - taken before the virus struck

We expected to spend the final weekend of 2017 celebrating the new year with friends from Ottawa but, unfortunately, we've both been sick as dogs since Christmas with a nasty cold/flu thingy, so they sensibly opted to postpone their visit until later. We were disappointed, of course, but they made the right decision. We wouldn't have wanted them to get this nasty virus, and the truth is we wouldn't have been very good company.

Honestly, I can't remember when I was last so sick for so long. For the first three days, I barely got out of bed and felt too awful to do much of anything. Since then, I've improved marginally each day, but it's been a long, hard slog - nearly two weeks now! 

I suppose it's fitting 2017 ended with a whimper since, in many ways, it was a tough year. There weren't any major catastrophes - just a long series of  mundane challenges that left me feeling worn out and discouraged. Here's hoping the longer-than-expected break from work enables me to tackle 2018 with renewed energy and enthusiasm. 

When I wasn't sleeping over the holidays, I spent a lot of time thinking about my intentions for 2018. Intuitively, I have a sense it's going to be a big year, filled with new adventures and challenges - but perhaps that's wishful thinking. So far, there's nothing to suggest there are major changes on the horizon - though I'm keeping a sharp eye out for interesting job prospects. 

On the running front, my expectations are modest. 2017 wasn't a great running year for me. Sure, I completed a few races in the spring and fall, but I ran all of them more slowly than I hoped and never got into a good training groove, despite kicking it up a notch in the early part of the year. More discouraging, my weight, which had remained pretty constant over the past few years, crept up to the point I felt positively chubby. Added to which, constant stiffness and joint pain were making it harder to run.

Fortunately, Husband announced at the end of November that he was willing to try going on the Plan for a few weeks, which was significant because he does most of the shopping and cooking and the burden of following the prescribed menus was going to fall mostly on him. Normally, neither of us is into dieting but we'd heard about the Plan from family and friends and thought it might be worth trying. We figured it couldn't hurt because the recommended recipes were healthy and calorie-full. In the end, we found we liked the food, and it worked for us. So far, I've lost nearly 9 pounds and Husband's down nearly 6, and we're both feeling more energetic and less achy overall - or at least we were until we got sick. 

Given our success to date, we've decided to carry on "planning" for awhile longer and couple that with more regular strength-training in hopes we'll be in better shape by the time gardening season rolls around. I'm hoping carrying less weight again will make running feel easier when I get back to it, but time will tell. I'm pretty darn stiff after laying around so much the past two weeks so more yoga is in order as well.

Anyway, back to those intentions. In terms of my physical health, what I most want is to end 2018 feeling comfortable in my skin - more flexible and energetic, as well as stronger - which of course means eating well, getting enough sleep and varying my exercise regime so its not so focused on running. With relatively little effort, all that should be do-able.

Emotionally and psychologically, my intentions are more challenging. I'm not particularly happy at work these days, and the situation isn't likely to change so I need to find a way to address that. I started exploring other opportunities before the holidays but there's still plenty I can do on that front.

Most importantly this year, I want to get more serious about practicing gratitude and compassion - towards myself and others - and to be braver and more accepting of "what is".

Case in point, I learned just before Christmas that I have a tiny cancerous lesion on my cheek. It's no big deal in the sense that the doctors who've examined it all assure me it's entirely treatable. I just need to have the darn thing removed. Nonetheless, I found myself feeling dismayed last week when the surgeon advised that I'll end up with a scar about an inch long. Of course, no one wants a scar in the middle of their face but I was annoyed with myself for finding the news so unsettling. What I should have felt was happy and grateful that the lesion was identified while it's so small and that I'm able to have it removed quickly. Chances are the scar won't be that bad and, anyway, now would be a good time to get over worrying about my looks and accept that I'm aging and my face is going to reflect that.

I'd like to be braver in other ways too. Husband and I have been talking for some time now about when I'm going to "retire" - by which we mean leave my reasonably well-paid government job to pursue other paid and unpaid opportunities, do more traveling, and work with him to develop our country property - but it's hard to give up the "golden handcuffs". I can't help worrying about what will happen if one of us gets really sick and we have to hire folks to look after us for an extended period. Of course, it's sensible to consider such contingencies, but the reality is none of us knows how much time we have, and Husband and I won't be able to tackle even half the projects we have in mind if I postpone retirement too long.

My intentions around gratitude and compassion have a lot to do with not beating up on myself when I fail to meet expectations, but also about being kinder and more understanding of other people. After all, we're all going through stuff others know nothing about.

Last but not least, I'd like to spend more time reading great books, writing, knitting, painting and doing whatever else flexes my creative muscles. With everything else going on, there wasn't much time for creativity in 2017 and I found I really missed it. If I want to live more creatively in retirement, I need to stay in practice.

In summary, my intentions for 2018 are to:

• get more comfortable in my skin
• deal with my work situation
• practice compassion and gratitude
• be braver and more accepting of what is
• spend more time doing creative activities

In addition to the above, I am of course planning to spend lots more happy times with this little guy.

What about you, gentle reader. What are your intentions for this bright new year?

Running lessons: Manage your expectations

I wish I could report that, with less than two weeks to go until race day, I feel excited, energized and ready to tackle another marathon. Unfortunately, that's not the case. The runs I did last week mostly went okay but my last long run on Saturday (19.5k) felt crappy. I hit the wall around 10k and it was all I could do to drag my sorry ass back to the house.

My immediate reaction to having such a lousy run so close to race day was predictable: "How can I possibly run 42.2k in two weeks if I can't run half that distance today? What was I thinking registering for the Calgary marathon this spring?! I'm never going to finish and it's going to be brutal!"

Luckily, I expected Saturday's run to feel tough after so much running the weekend before so I was ready with an appropriate comeback: "Relax. It feels tough today because you've just finished three months of hard training. You'll be in much better shape to run after two more weeks of tapering. And, whatever the outcome, you'll enjoy the event - not to mention having a vacation and seeing friends and family in Calgary.  So just breathe. It's gonna be fine."

And, mostly, it worked. My legs still felt crummy Saturday afternoon and evening but I popped some "vitamin I", had a good supper and slept like the dead that night. Since I was still tired Sunday and yesterday, I focused on taking it easy and slept soundly again both nights, despite some wild dreams in which I was - you guessed it - running a marathon.

All of which reminds me that expectations can be a huge problem - in marathoning and in life. When I expect too much from myself or others, disappointment  - sometimes even anger and grief - follows. Which isn't to say I shouldn't have goals and expectations - just that they need to be as realistic as possible.

Take, for instance, our cat Nemmie. Though it may not be evident from the photo at the top of this post, Nemmie is not what you'd call affectionate. Sure, she deigns to hang out in the same room with Husband and me a fair bit and is happy to get a good belly rub around 3:00 most mornings, but she'd really prefer that we just left her alone the rest of the time. It doesn't matter how we think she should respond to being showered with care and affection, she is who she is and we might as well accept it. Expecting her to behave differently only leads to stress and unhappiness for all of us. It goes without saying that the same goes for people - only more so.

Heading to Calgary, it's completely realistic to expect I'll finish the marathon in some fashion. On the other hand, given uncertainty about the weather and the effects of elevation on my body, it would be downright foolhardy to expect I'll run it in a personal best time. If everything goes perfectly, that could happen, but chances are slim. And the danger is, if I set unrealistic expectations, I'll start the race too fast, feel miserable throughout, and take longer to finish than I would have otherwise.

The big challenge over the next week and a half will be to manage my expectations. In all likelihood, the tapering gremlins will be doing their best to wreak havoc with my head and body, but I've been here before and I know their game. So long as I stay calm, get plenty of rest, and set reasonable expectations for race day, there's every reason to believe my 8th marathon will go well. I just need to relax, trust the training, and enjoy the ride to the finish line.

Happy running and writing, friends!