I’m Not Done Yet

Planning the last third of life

For years I’ve been fascinated by the proclivity of men (perhaps it’s men and women alike, just not in my circle) to quote from movies, with a particular fondness for immortal lines from The Godfather. “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” “Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday…” “Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.” I’ve heard these—and many more—from my husband on countless occasions to illustrate various points. Well, I’m about to join this club of line reciters thanks to the movie NYAD.

A couple of weeks ago in the first installment of 4 The Better I wrote about how inspired my husband and I were by the compelling story of Diana Nyad’s unimaginable swim from Cuba to Florida, and I’m still replaying snippets in my mind. (Fair warning, I will be quoting lines from the movie for the foreseeable future!) Diana was talking to her best friend, Bonnie, about resurrecting her seemingly impossible dream to attempt this arduous swim at the age of 60+, when she uttered my new favorite line: “I’m not done yet, Bonnie, and neither are you!”

Those words resonated with me so deeply: I’m. Not. Done. Yet. It was as if I were a cartoon character with the “boing” bubble over my head. I feel such a deep kinship with this story; I’m in the prelude of the same decade Diana was at that time in her life, and have been going through a range of emotions thanks to the confluence of certain life circumstances. At an age when some people start talking about leaving the workforce, my husband and I are jumping into adjacent, but different career paths. At a point when some people are putting the finishing touches on their retirement investments, we are rebuilding a portion of ours. (Long story for another time.) Our 16-year-old son is a mere 18 months away from graduating from a very close-knit school community that has been our extended family for the last 9 years and we can already hear this pivotal life event knocking rather loudly on the door.

Then there is the basic fact that I have just entered what is generally described as the senior years…qualifying for minuscule discounts and being seen as just plain old. As Diana said, (see, I’m doing it again) “an old bag of bones.” Although I’ve never—ever—thought of myself as a senior, I am keenly aware of where I am in my lifecycle. Truthfully, there are times it’s unsettling to be on an alternate path from what is culturally considered usual…conventional…expected. Looking ahead can sometimes feel daunting and somewhat disheartening, but it’s hardly a 52-hour swim and I’m certainly not ready to be done.

Time to plan
With the year coming to a close and resolutions (which I’m reframing—next post) around the corner, I’ve found myself thinking about the future in terms of decades, not simply the next year. Decades that will comprise what is essentially the last third of my life. Gulp. This new fork in the road gives me a bit of déjà vu and recalls another crossroads when I was 36. I was resigning from a job of 10 years that I had once loved but grown to loathe; I was about 20 pounds over my comfortable weight and felt lethargic; and I realized that I really wanted to have children...only to confirm long-suspected fertility issues. I had to create the life that I wanted to live next.

Having a child became the overriding goal and although I intuitively knew that I’d be an older mom, I was determined to be a youngish older mom—engaged and active in my child’s life, not sitting on the sidelines—so losing weight, getting in shape, and realigning my health became a priority. Likewise today, the impetus is grandchildren, a second career curve, and rebuilding our financial foundation. No, our 16-year-old isn’t starting a family…yet…but he has mentioned that he believes his calling is to have a family, so I’ll need to be prepared. That means planning now for the next 10-15 years…and that’s just the start.

In my mind, I’ve started to portion my last third into blocks of time, which is a strange place to be, but clearly this is part of life…and in all honesty, aren’t we lucky to be here?! As a creative person, I’m envisioning a journey. This decade, my 60’s, is about building, so I’m anticipating an uphill climb. My 70’s will probably have a work peak somewhere in the middle years and then plateau, kind of like the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro, where I can stop and take in the view. I can head down the mountain in my 80’s, but it will be a relaxed descent, and I’ll take my time and enjoy it. Which means I’ll probably still be doing some kind of work, but with more play in the mix; Andrea and I have a strong desire to travel and to include our son and his future family on trips, so we will structure our work accordingly. This brings me to my 90’s and I’ll be happy to rest, while hopefully still traversing a few hills.

Setting the course
Couple of things I know for sure. First and foremost, I’m not referring to myself as “senior” until I feel like one… which may not be for quite a few decades. It’s simply not a productive mindset for me. Second, overall health, wellness, and strength will be the imperative foundation to accomplish what I’m imagining, and even though I currently prioritize eating right and exercising, I know I can do better in a handful of areas. For instance, my memory is certainly not what it used to be. Some brain games are in order and I’m also interested in trying pickleball…although I did a cursory search and the garish designs on the paddles might be a deal-breaker. I’ve also noticed that my grip strength is slipping, meaning my overall strength is decreasing, so next year I’m picking up heavier weights—much heavier.

I won’t bore you now with all of the little tweaks that I’m planning to my practices and habits, but there are enough of them—as well as lofty, rather intimidating goals—that I’m considering creating a written list. I’ve never done that before but I feel like it may really help me organize, visualize, and execute. In fact, just writing this post has clarified and rejuvenated my thinking to the point that instead of feeling overwhelmed by the mountain in front of me, I see it as a wonderful challenge to grow and become a better version of myself—taking it one step at a time, decade by decade—hopefully inspiring others to journey as well. All in my quest to live well, age great. Stay tuned!

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