Sporting Retirement Scares Me. Here's A Tip For It

Athlete lives are measured in dog years, apparently. At 36 (or 252) I’m sort of considered on-the-turn. Damn. That’s a quick turnaround from peak condition to past-it. Who knew athletes were the avocados of humanity?

Don’t get me wrong, there are those who slip the surly bonds of thirtysomething athletedom, (tiny wave to legendary bobsledder Elana Meyers-Taylor). Most of us however, peer over the fence to the great sporting beyond due to financial, emotional, physical factors or a combination of.

I don’t know if it scares other athletes like it does me.

Quick note: This isn’t an exhaustive evaluation of the reasons an athlete might feel concerned about retirement, I’m sharing current feels so anyone who resonates doesn’t feel lonely about it, I suppose.

There’s the identity thing, of course. But I never really felt boxed in by that. Perhaps my good fortune to have been a transfer athlete. Sprinter - Bobsleigher - Track Cyclist - Back to Bobsleigh (couldn’t ride a bike). Never long enough anywhere to fully bed-in an identity. A sporting nomad. Home is where I lay my snapback, or helmet.

I know I wrestle with guilt. Guilt for the sense of entitlement that I think I can chase a creative dream when a conventional job is what’ll satisfy my current fiscal responsibilities. I’ve already had my dream job, lucky me. It’s more than many get.

Now it’s time to pay the mortgage.

When I look at ‘athlete career transition’ things, I worry there’s nothing I’d actually enjoy doing. Still, I’ll convince myself these are the occupations I want so I can give my best at interview:

‘Client Success Manager? Ohmygosh the success of your clients is all I’ve ever cared about!’ ‘No, I don’t think your corporation is culty at all!’

So far, so bad given I’ve failed every interview. Perhaps I’m not coming across authentically- a major problem for Amazon’s ‘Earn Trust’ leadership principle.

And like that 70’s arcade game Pong, here comes the ball because I’m also not totally sold on retirement- yet. I love my team, my community, but I struggle with motivation to remain in a sport I feel has nothing left for me competitively.

I have every medal except an Olympic one- and I’ll never get that.

Committing to another year or so of pain (because inflation applies to tendinopathies as well as pay) gets harder and harder to justify. Plus there are younger athletes who will have that hunger, and I need to get out of their way.

Just The Tip, Please

Anyway, I promised a tip. And it’s not because I think I have grand answers. I’m just walking the maybe-retirement tightrope and the only thing I’ve found that unburdens the fear of tumbling into the unknown is: networks.

Whilst there are initiatives in UK Sport, corporate transition schemes etc, it is your networks and pulling on them that will open your eyes to the possibilities out there.

A recent note I read about luck being movement pinged the brightest lightbulb.

You increase your surface area for receiving ‘luck’ when you’re moving.

That is: sending emails, applications, arranging coffees with networks, getting out of the house for a walk, speaking with friends, friends of friends, squeezing your networks to their outer limit. If you think you don’t have them, look again, you probably do. And people are probably willing to help.

I wrote an article that got published in the Sunday Times. That link was from efforts building a relationship with a journalist I met years before. That article led to meetings with UK Sport execs, which led to an open communication channel allowing me to pitch an idea to support athletes in retirement (stay tuned, might be a no but I’ll probably do it anyway).

I live a dichotomous existence; at once the insufferable networking extrovert happy to try stand-up comedy, who also draws the curtains and curls into the foetal position to hide from the world. I fight that latter trait because opportunities only come from being seen, from moving. Accepting you need help with the journey and fighting the fear to ask for it is a big step to piecing together your life after sport.

I hope so anyway. Like I said, I’m living it, so I’ll keep you posted.

If there are athletes out there reading this struggling with post-career transition; either thinking about it or currently in it, who want to share experiences, whatever they may be, please get in touch.

Let’s look after each other.