Hi Reader

When waiting feels riskier than retiring

I had a meeting this week with a potential new client, lets call her Sarah.

She’s 57, earns £140k, has around £800k in pensions plus significant property equity, financially on the surface she appears to be OK for retirement.

And she’s planning to retire in October this year, not next October like she originally thought, this October, five months from now.

Why the urgency?

Cancer, about two and a half years ago, she’s recovered, oncologist says there’s no reason she won’t live a normal life, but it changed everything about how she thinks about time.

She said something that’s stuck with me all week: “I could wait another year, and I’ll be another year less fit, another year less strong, another year less able to do the Finnish archipelago or travel around the world.”

And that’s it isn’t it, the fundamental shift that happens when you’ve looked at your own mortality, waiting stops feeling safe and starts feeling like the biggest risk of all.

What actually changes

Before a health scare, the calculation is straightforward, work longer equals more security, more money, safer retirement, why would you stop before you absolutely have to.

The sensible thing is to wait, build the pot bigger, be more certain, reduce the risk.

Then something happens, illness, health crisis, wake-up call, whatever you want to call it, and suddenly the calculation flips completely.

Now working longer doesn’t feel like more security, it feels like wasting the time you’ve got left, every year you delay is a year you’re less able to do the things you’re supposedly saving for.

Sarah lost 40 kilos during cancer treatment, lost significant muscle mass, she’s recovered but she knows her body is different, she’s slowing down already, and she’s realistic about her life expectancy being reduced even though her oncologist is optimistic.

And when you know that, when you’ve actually confronted the fact that you might not have as long as you thought, the entire retirement equation changes.

It’s not “do I have enough money to retire safely” anymore, it’s “can I afford to wait another year when I might not have that many good years left.”

Sarah wants to travel, spend three months in Valencia, three months in Morocco, do challenging things whilst she’s still physically able to do them.

And she knows, really knows in a way most people don’t, that if she waits another year she’ll be that bit older, that bit less strong, that bit less capable, and eventually the window closes completely.

The shift in what feels risky

Before a health crisis, running out of money feels like the biggest risk, so you work longer, save more, be careful, play it safe.

After a health crisis, wasting your healthy years feels like the biggest risk, dying with money in the bank but a list of things you never did because you were being sensible.

Sarah said: “I realised I was putting it off until next October, but I don’t want to do that, I want to do it this October.”

And I asked her why, what changed between next October and this October, they’re only a year apart, financially another year of contributions would be better wouldn’t it.

And she said: “Because I’ll be another year older, another year less able, and what if something happens, what if I don’t get those years, I don’t want to have delayed for no reason.”

That’s the fundamental shift, the risk isn’t financial anymore, the risk is time, and you can’t get more time by being careful, you can only use the time you’ve got.

Most people I work with who haven’t had a health scare, they’re worried about having enough money, they want certainty, they want to know they won’t run out, they’re willing to work longer to be more secure.

Sarah’s worried about running out of time, about getting to 70 or 75 and being too old or too ill to do the things she’s planning, about having been careful and sensible and responsible and then not getting to enjoy what she built.

And once you’ve had that shift, once you’ve looked at your mortality properly, you can’t go back to thinking the safe thing is to wait.

The healthy years urgency

Sarah mentioned she’s probably got about 10 good years, maybe a bit more if she’s lucky, she’s not being morbid about it, just realistic.

And 10 good years from 57 is 67, not old, but not young either, and definitely not the same as 57 for doing physically demanding travel or challenging adventures.

She wants to do things whilst she’s still fit enough, strong enough, energetic enough, before the “go-go years” become the “go-slow years” and eventually the “no-go years.”

And every year she delays retirement is a year she’s not doing those things, a year that comes off the healthy end of retirement not the declining end, and when you frame it like that waiting feels absolutely mental.

I see this with people who’ve had health scares, they’re not reckless about money, they’re not ignoring the financial planning, they still want to know the numbers work.

But they’re no longer willing to sacrifice their healthy years for slightly more financial security, because they’ve realized you can have all the money in the world and if you’re too old or too ill to use it what’s the point.

Sarah’s financially fine, on first glance she probably could retire now and be comfortable, she could work another year and be slightly more comfortable, but she’d be 58 not 57, and 58 is closer to 60 which is closer to the end of the good years, and for what, slightly more security she doesn’t actually need?

What this means for the rest of us

Most of us haven’t had a health crisis, haven’t had that forced confrontation with mortality, so we default to thinking more time working equals more security.

But Sarah’s perspective is useful even if you haven’t been ill, because she’s right isn’t she, the healthy years are limited, you don’t get infinite time to do the things you’re saving for.

And if you’re 60 or 62 or 64 and financially comfortable but still working because you want to be more certain, more secure, build the pot a bit bigger, what are you actually risking?

You’re risking your 60s, the decade when you’re still fit enough and energetic enough and healthy enough to do the challenging stuff, to travel properly, to be active, to actually live the retirement you’ve been planning.

By 70 you might still be fine, but you’ll definitely be less capable than 60, by 75 even more so, and at some point the window closes and you’ve got the money but you can’t do the things anymore.

Sarah hasn’t got the luxury of assuming she’ll be healthy into her 80s, so she’s making different choices, but honestly maybe we should all be thinking like that regardless of our health.

Because none of us know how long we’ve got, none of us know when we’ll lose the physical capability to do challenging things, and defaulting to “I’ll wait another year to be safer” assumes you’ll definitely get that year and it’ll definitely be a good one.

The question

If you’re close to retirement, financially comfortable but still working, what are you waiting for?

More security, a bigger pot, a rounder number, hitting some arbitrary milestone that will make you feel safe enough to stop?

And here’s the harder question, what’s the actual cost of that waiting?

Not the financial cost, the time cost, the healthy years cost, the things you’re not doing because you’re being sensible and staying at work.

Because Sarah’s made me think about this differently, she’s not being reckless, she’s being realistic, she knows her time is limited and she’s choosing to use it rather than save it.

And maybe that’s the better approach even if you haven’t had a health crisis, maybe waiting for perfect financial certainty is the actual risk, maybe wasting your healthy years being careful is worse than retiring a year or two earlier than feels completely safe.

You can’t buy more healthy years, you can’t work longer to get them back, you’ve got what you’ve got and every year you delay is a year you’re spending at the wrong end of retirement.

So if you’re financially comfortable but still waiting, ask yourself what you’re actually waiting for, and whether it’s worth the cost of the time you’re spending to get it.

P.S. - If you’ve had a health crisis that changed how you think about retirement timing, or if you’re wrestling with the question of waiting versus going now, hit reply and tell me, I’m curious how people navigate this when the risks stop being purely financial.