Busy busy busy

When I get together with my fellow retirees, the conversation almost always starts with, "How awesome is the life we're living?", then transitions to, "How's the family?", and inevitably ends up with, "Can you believe how busy retirement life is?" The end of those conversations is usually punctuated with the statement, "Yeah, it's definitely busy, but now it's all the stuff we LIKE to do, rather than the stuff we're TOLD to do!" There's some REAL truth to that statement, but never was it on full display as much as the past couple of weeks!

Until you retire, you'll never truly understand the decision making that leads to that.

As Life always goes, the good stuff seems to coagulate into a small window of time. Case in point, I volunteered to assist with organizing my 40th reunion for my Queen's PHE class of 1986, starting the initial phases over a year ago, the obvious intention to have it coincide with the 2026 Queen's Homecoming celebrations. All was good to go until March when we came to the understanding that our nephew's wedding to his longtime girlfriend was the same weekend, but I rationalized that I could still make the trip to Kingston on the Friday night, carouse, imbibe, then stay over before heading home in time for the late afternoon wedding. That would have been an amazing compromise, even with the understanding that I would choose to miss the football game (WHAT??), but it came to light in early September that one of the largest girl's basketball tournaments was planned for the very same weekend! 

Oh well, I could always simply book the weekend off, right?

Nope! Around the same timeframe, the question was floated if I was interested in applying to participate in the OFSAA "AAA" Girls Basketball Championships to be held in Barrie late November, and despite the multiple times I've enjoyed all that is awesome at an OFSAA tournament, it's always been on the other side of the whistle, never having officiated at one. I was eager to give it a go, and applied to be selected, but it was decided that all of those interested would be a part of an evaluation opportunity using that same big tournament, meaning that I felt the unspoken pressure to make room to referee.

In the end, the result was a whirlwind of activity that punched both my sleep patterns and my wallet straight in the throat, albeit 100% a conscious voluntary decision. Starting at 7:00 am Friday and following through to 3:00 pm on Sunday, I refereed 4 games, spent nearly 10 hours driving, hoisted a reasonable number of adult beverages, rekindled some old friendships, smiled proudly at my nephew's teary eyed profession to the world of his adoration as he mimicked Borat, "Thaaat's a my wiiiiiife!", and capped off the craziness when Sunday morning presented itself brilliant sunshine that beckoned me outside for a 60 km spin around Da Beach, Stayner, and Da Wood.

That's retiring with a flair! Some might claim, "That's just one busy stretch, isn't it?"

Friends, I was not yet through with "sucking the marrow out of life", as the Dead Poets Society taught us.

With October's end looming, the girl's basketball regular season is coming to a close, playoffs and association championships looming, so the week was filled with offers to officiate. Given that Mother Nature has gifted us all with an amazing fall of sunshine and slightly warmer than normal temperatures, the week obviously must include some splorin' on the two-wheeled stallion as well. The week after trying to do everything, my Thursday morning was planned as a big bike ride with some Men's League later that night, but as I arrived home after 80 km in the saddle, still glistening with endorphins from the ride, a panicked call from our assigner to fill in at CW's OLB catholic school because wires were crossed revealed they had two teams ready to go but no officials. My brain reasoned that I was still a young buck and my desire to help was far more powerful than my will to preserve my joints, so I accepted racing to CW, did the two games, raced back to WB, met my partner at his place, and raced into Barrie to do the three Men's games. I will admit that the drive back to WB at 11:00 pm was a far more leisurely affair but the first steps getting out of the car quickly reminded me of the day's activity level.

Friday morning my body told me, in no uncertain terms, that I had reached a critical mass of activity, and it was collectively going on strike, so I had better shut up, sit down, grab a cuppa, and simply relax.

Who was I to argue? 

I overachieved in that regard for the morning until I got a text from a friend about helping with a Friday afternoon supply gig. Why not! Plus, I could ride to Elmvale and back saving some CO2 emissions at the same time!

Life is Good ... and Retirement is Better!