Avoiding Workaholic Tendencies in Retirement

 

While practicing table tennis with a lady from my club the other day, I realized that I had made my schedule far too grueling.  She agreed, and admitted that she had done the same thing, at eighty.  She is still working.  I was getting up at 4:30 a.m. to drive extremely long distances to train.  An hour private lesson was stacked private in front of a stressful two hour group lessons.  I felt exhausted, and rarely had a day off…the grind I had choreographed continued.

I realized that I was recreating the workaholic lifestyle I led as a dancer.  I always had to be in incredible shape, and on top of my game.  Now Iwas pushing myself too hard, neglecting my household chores, and overworking, this time as a senior athlete.  It’s easy to slip into this behavior if you have that kind of personality.  This was not how I envisioned as my retirement.  What about travel, hobbies, and nature?

I changed my schedule, cut back on some driving and commitments, and decided to enjoy more leisure at the cabin.  What a relief to cook delicious meals, pick up my knitting, and sweat it out in the sauna.  It takes mental focus to not become over scheduled.  Sometimes we have to compare our actions with our vision.

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Pick and Choose Wisely

 

When I was nineteen, dancing in my first production show, I was invited out after the second show by a male dancer who I greatly admired. He was gorgeous, funny, in incredible shape, and we got along well.  I was hopeful that this was the beginning of an exciting romance.

After eating a late dinner at a restaurant that he chose, he wanted to sit in the casino and gamble. I said I would watch.   We had just cashed our paychecks. I had mine mentally organized with the bills I needed to pay: rent, utilities, groceries, gas for the car, and my precious ballet classes.

As I sat next to him on a tall leather stool, I watched him gamble away his entire paycheck.  It made me feel sick to my stomach.  My energy deflated, I wondered how he was going to pay all of his bills.  The several hundred dollars he had earned had been eaten up eaten up by the machines over a few hours.  I was bored and exhausted.

So much for my hopes of a romantic evening and future with him.  It was quite a lesson.  As we walked out, he pointed of a picture of himself on the wall of the casino.  “See that,” he bragged.  “That’s me when I won $10,000.00.  It will happen again.”  He was flanked by two showgirls.  My heart sank.  I doubted it.

In spite of all he had going for him, he was self destructive.  These holes  grow larger as people age.    In retrospect, I am glad now that I learned of his addictions early on…I knew that lifestyle wouldn’t work for me.  

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