coltsfan53
Dryer sheet aficionado
TLDR: Once you have tasted sweet freedom, just continue to run with it...
I turn 52 this month, and my goal from a very early age was to "retire at 50." And I did. Working in sales, I saw many cautionary tales from older peers—guys who were haggard, sometimes broke, and generally not living great lives. Sales ages a person in dog years, as some here can confirm. The stress can be immense. I wanted none of that.
I saved and invested as much as I could in my early 20s and continued this bi-weekly discipline throughout my career; it, predictably, worked out better than expected. My "number" was always $3 million. When I got to 50, I had $4 million, a cushion that bolstered my confidence to step away from the grind.
Leaving corporate life was one of the great moments of my life. Mental clarity, which I figured was gone, returned. I lost ten pounds and reached my high school weight, which I figured was out of reach. We traveled, hiked, and visited friends all over the world. We had a blast. And yet, I had this persistent, gnawing feeling that I needed to return to the grind. This feeling persisted for all 18 months of early retirement. During this time, several companies from my old industry approached me to come back and help fuel their salesforce.
Like everyone else here, our portfolio over the last year and a half has become bloated to an extraordinary degree. We now stand at $5.5 million in investments.
I say this only to illustrate the insanity of my next decision. I told myself that "if the right opportunity arises, then I will take it on and make a game of it. We will spend every dime from the new venture, and I will be able to pick up right where I left off. It will provide a 'sense of purpose,' and I will be contributing to humanity again in some small way."
SO...I took a job in my old industry. A dear friend managed the team I joined. The job was pegged to be 3 ½ days a week and something 'easy, fun, and one I would enjoy.' It was day 2, sitting in a California training classroom, when I sensed I had made a grave mistake. Rather than walk away then, I completed a month of field training and confirmed that I could not do the job again. Up at 4:30 am, the long drives, the hotel rooms. Then long days in an operating room setting. I looked around and could not believe I had "crawled back into a box." In fact, I looked at people in the hospitals who were doing my old job, and I found it hard to believe that I actually performed it for 27 years. Such an odd feeling. I was totally and completely disconnected from that world and had a mental revolt against returning to it. The experiment lasted 5 weeks.
I suppose I say all of this to tell others wrestling with the "return to work" conundrum: relax, you have earned your early retirement. Create new habits, enjoy the non-traditional life you have created for yourself. I am going to, finally, take my own life advice since I knew this was the path all along.
I turn 52 this month, and my goal from a very early age was to "retire at 50." And I did. Working in sales, I saw many cautionary tales from older peers—guys who were haggard, sometimes broke, and generally not living great lives. Sales ages a person in dog years, as some here can confirm. The stress can be immense. I wanted none of that.
I saved and invested as much as I could in my early 20s and continued this bi-weekly discipline throughout my career; it, predictably, worked out better than expected. My "number" was always $3 million. When I got to 50, I had $4 million, a cushion that bolstered my confidence to step away from the grind.
Leaving corporate life was one of the great moments of my life. Mental clarity, which I figured was gone, returned. I lost ten pounds and reached my high school weight, which I figured was out of reach. We traveled, hiked, and visited friends all over the world. We had a blast. And yet, I had this persistent, gnawing feeling that I needed to return to the grind. This feeling persisted for all 18 months of early retirement. During this time, several companies from my old industry approached me to come back and help fuel their salesforce.
Like everyone else here, our portfolio over the last year and a half has become bloated to an extraordinary degree. We now stand at $5.5 million in investments.
I say this only to illustrate the insanity of my next decision. I told myself that "if the right opportunity arises, then I will take it on and make a game of it. We will spend every dime from the new venture, and I will be able to pick up right where I left off. It will provide a 'sense of purpose,' and I will be contributing to humanity again in some small way."
SO...I took a job in my old industry. A dear friend managed the team I joined. The job was pegged to be 3 ½ days a week and something 'easy, fun, and one I would enjoy.' It was day 2, sitting in a California training classroom, when I sensed I had made a grave mistake. Rather than walk away then, I completed a month of field training and confirmed that I could not do the job again. Up at 4:30 am, the long drives, the hotel rooms. Then long days in an operating room setting. I looked around and could not believe I had "crawled back into a box." In fact, I looked at people in the hospitals who were doing my old job, and I found it hard to believe that I actually performed it for 27 years. Such an odd feeling. I was totally and completely disconnected from that world and had a mental revolt against returning to it. The experiment lasted 5 weeks.
I suppose I say all of this to tell others wrestling with the "return to work" conundrum: relax, you have earned your early retirement. Create new habits, enjoy the non-traditional life you have created for yourself. I am going to, finally, take my own life advice since I knew this was the path all along.
