Reflection
I spent a lot of my 30s and 40s chasing mountain summits. I finished the Colorado 14ers, summited the “Roof of Africa” (Kilimanjaro), tackled my share of 5th-class technical rock and plenty of exposed 3rd- and 4th-class scrambles. I snow climbed steep couloirs, slicing my arm open with my ice-axe in spring conditions, bleeding all over the snow and getting several stiches as a reward. I summited Maroon Peak (14,163 feet | 4,317 meters) solo with bad-tempered mountain goats because my climbing partner didn’t feel well. One of my favorite weekends included a technical summit of Dallas Peak (13,815 feet | 4,211 meters) , a “rest day” on the relatively easy Colorado 14er Mount Sneffels (14,153 feet |4314 meters), followed by another technical ascent of Coxcomb Peak (13,656 feet | 4,162 meters) . I made the summit of Iztaccihuatl (17,160 feet | 5,230 meters) after getting almost no sleep in a concrete climbing hut.
Less dramatic but hidden among all of this are the early morning (we’re talking 1:30 AM or so…) wake-ups, dreadful backcountry hikes with heavy technical packs to sleep on the hard ground in a tiny tent, plus battles with rockfall, deep spring snow and foul alpine weather (e.g. lightning, summer snowfall and sub-zero Fahrenheit winter temperatures) to make all of these summits reality.
In short, I’m no stranger to perseverance and facing down serious fears. So, why on earth does leaving the comfort of a cozy corporate salary to start a life of free-range freedom frighten me to the core?
My Solution
First, I had to come to grips with the fact that my personality craves security. Specifically, I need financial security. I have a deep fear of being penniless. I’ve been a serious saver since I was a child. I would literally take earnings from simple tasks or birthday gift money from elderly relatives and ride my 10-speed bike to the savings and loan to deposit the funds. I loved watching the interest in my “passbook savings” grown.
I’ve had to come to terms with two things:
– Knowing when enough is enough financially.
– Remembering that I’ve taken risks in the past which, amazingly, didn’t kill me.
Emotionally, I look back at my younger mountaineering exploits and realize that I can, in fact, take risks without dying. Ok, perhaps I got lucky a few times, but by building my climbing skills, being wise when choosing partners and making some tough decisions, I made it through my hard-climbing years with just a scar or two and some amazing memories. Rationally, I’ve had to run the numbers, build a future financial model and convince myself that Mike and I won’t starve if we quite work today. In fact, we’ll be just fine. I recall the words of our financial advisor when he responded to our “when can we semi-retire” question with this: “My question is, why are you both still working full-time?
Key Takeaway
Early retirement, on the surface, sounds so fun, so easy, so carefree. Who wouldn’t want to retire early if they could? In reality, the decision to retire early is fraught with painful choices. I mean, why on earth should I walk away from earning a salary many workers would dream of, earned with relatively little effort? It sounds almost insane when I share the details of my situation out loud. “Yeah, I make 3x the annual worker salary in the USA and haven’t worked a full 40 hours a week in years. I think I’ll quit!”
If you’ve prepared for early retirement financially, and you’re emotionally ready, you need to stick to your guns. Don’t let the second-guessing tether you to the corporate nonsense. You’ve earned this. You’ve worked hard, saved and invested all of these years so that you could tell corporate America to kiss your ass. Your only regret will be not retiring even earlier. Break the chain.