Six years ago, I retired from full-time employment after a career that had shaped much of my adult identity. I knew I wasn’t retiring from life, but moving towards a new life where I could pursue my interests and curiosity.

In those six years, I’ve coached, studied, written, travelled, climbed mountains and competed in four Hyrox events. But I’ve also experienced serious illness and personal challenges.

Retirement is an interesting transition. It can open the door to new opportunities, experiences and discoveries. But I’ve also seen how easily that door can close, as people gradually disengage from the world around them and life becomes increasingly small. And keeping that door open while dealing with ill health and other life events becomes more difficult.

What I thought retirement would be

I retired in October 2020, a few months earlier than I had planned, spurred on by having to work from home during the pandemic. When I handed in my notice three months earlier, we were coming to the end of lockdown, never imagining that there would be a second one shortly after I retired.

Those first few months were difficult. Not the freedom I had expected.

But slowly, life returned to normal. I started to develop my coaching practice, applied to the University of Warwick, threw myself into my role as a pension scheme trustee and discovered a love of painting, which was a huge revelation. And, of course, I kept training.

Unfortunately, at the end of 2021, I became ill with Graves’ disease. I lost weight and strength and couldn’t climb a flight of stairs without becoming breathless. But I recovered and slowly regained my health and fitness.

A relapse in 2024 resulted in me withdrawing from university, and severe hypothyroidism at the beginning of this year meant another period of recovery. One that is still ongoing.

I read the other day that once you reach your seventh decade, you become less resilient to life’s setbacks and are less likely to bounce back. These setbacks might include illness, a broken bone or personal challenges. I’m certainly feeling this.

When I had open-heart surgery at the age of 56, recovery felt so much more straightforward, even though there was a wound to look after, restrictions on how much weight I could push and pull, and the challenges of a life on warfarin.

But recovery was a new experience for me, and I revelled in being able to run without experiencing chest pain and lift weights without feeling dizzy. Recovery wasn’t linear, but it was life-affirming.

Having to recover from three periods of ill health over the last five years has been challenging. Regaining strength and fitness only for it to be snatched away again is soul-destroying. And at 67, the prospect of physical deterioration feels far more real than it did in my 50s.

It would have been so easy to give up, but that was never an option. I continue to strength train, run, swim and hike. I’m currently training for ATHX.

I am a strong believer that you aren’t old until age becomes your excuse, and that it’s better to wear out than rust out.

But at the same time, I have to reluctantly accept the limitations that age and my health bring. Training now needs to focus on smarter, not harder. I have to accept that a 67-year-old body needs more time to recover.

I’m being wise, but I’m not giving in.

The continuing pull of productivity

My full-time working life was filled with leading a team, managing projects and delivering on KPIs. I loved it. And I continue to measure a good week by what I’ve achieved or produced, albeit in a more flexible, less pressured way.

But this wasn’t always the case. When I became ill in 2024, I had to acknowledge that I was doing too much. Undertaking a dissertation and writing for an academic book had sucked the joy out of my life.

Retirement wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I withdrew from university. But two years on, the book has been published and I’ve graduated with an MA with Distinction.

I’m now more mindful that I don’t recreate the pressures of employment in retirement. This is a time to enjoy my passions and productivity.

A mantra I now try to live by is Peace, Purpose and Productivity.

I don’t want to replicate the pressures of full-time employment, but I still have ambitions and a desire to make a difference. This needs to be balanced with finding joy in everyday activities and ensuring that the body I live in gets everything it needs.

Retirement and age concessions allow me to embrace afternoon matinees, art galleries, lunches with friends and the occasional box-set binge.

How my identity has changed

Six years ago, my identity was largely defined by my job title. But I was also a coach, writer, trustee and athlete, albeit a slow one.

Retirement has allowed me to develop more fully in these areas, but it has also given me the opportunity to explore new interests. Art has been a significant one.

After 50 years of only lifting a brush to paint a wall, ceiling or skirting board, I challenged the 15-year-old me who had been told by a schoolteacher that she wasn’t good enough to do ‘O’ Level Art.

What a revelation!

You don’t have to be good to enjoy painting, but actually, I’m not that bad. Who would have thought I’d end up sending Christmas cards featuring my own artwork?

What six years have taught me

Retirement is not a single transition. It keeps evolving.

I’ve achieved things I never imagined, experienced setbacks I couldn’t have anticipated and discovered that the freedom of retirement comes with the responsibility to make choices about how I spend my time and energy.