Just over a year ago, I retired from McKinsey and launched my gap year. Having subsequently restructured it to a “gap year and a half”, I have six additional months ahead of me. While the initial year didn’t play out as planned, it has been a great experience and I have learned a lot.
One thing is clear: my elaborate plan to travel the world pursuing a mix of mountain climbing, cross country ski racing, and sailing coincided almost perfectly with the period that world travel was shut down by the corona virus. Timing is everything.
Like the vignettes at the start of a Netflix show, here is a reminder of Tom’s gap year so far:
January 2020: Climb Aconcagua in Argentina, the highest mountain outside of the Himalayas. (This was when I was still on the original gap year plan. It was wonderful. I am so glad I got it in before Covid struck.)
February and March: return home and continue training hard. Race in two ski marathons. (Also wonderful.)
In mid March, two weeks before getting on a plane to climb Everest, learn that Nepal has shut down the 2020 climbing season due to Covid
The next day, in mid-flight to British Columbia, learn that the lodge we are headed to for a week of backcountry skiing is now closed due to Covid
Three days later, return to Boston as the Canadian border closes. Settle into months of sequestering at home. Restructure and extend gap year: target Everest in spring 2021, and the World Masters Nordic Ski Championships in March 2021. Cancel long distance sailing plans.
Train hard for my new goals, while Covid continues to explode and the US political scene continues to implode.
In September, learn that the 2021 World Masters Nordic Championships have been cancelled due to Covid. Re-focus ski goals on local races. Continue hoping that Everest 2021 happens.
Through the end of the year, continue to enjoy the daily rhythm of working out, time with family, and some great local sailing and hiking.
Speaking of local activities, here is a photo of Jill early one October morning on our last sailing trip of the season, and a photo of me making the most of an evening close to home- still dreaming of gap year goals.
So that is the plot summary so far. Those who have tuned in to each episode are familiar with all of this, and know that I have occasionally swerved off piste to reflect on other topics; like being injured, the death of a beloved pet, and the national political scene. Your patience is appreciated.
Looking forward
The plan for the remaining six months is to ski as many cross country ski races as possible and then head to Nepal in late March, where I will spend a couple of months taking another shot at climbing Everest. Everest of course depends on both Nepal and the mountain being open.
As 2020 drew to a close, Jill and I decided to move to Vermont for the winter. Part of this was driven by me trying to guess where the best ski racing would be, and by wanting to be close to the mountains and ski trails where optimal training happens. Also, through years of weekends and vacations in northern New England, we always wondered what it would feel like to not have to get in the car and head home. Now we have a chance to find out.
I can report that not having to head home is absolutely wonderful. We came up to Stowe the day after Christmas, with Holly and Will joining us for the initial couple of weeks. (Given the Covid situation, John stayed put in San Francisco). Every day, I wake up with the primary responsibility of deciding which mix of cross country skiing, backcountry skiing, hiking, and climbing I will pursue. Then I happily ponder the same decision the next day, and the next. The combination of beloved activities and beautiful surroundings brings constant joy.
One of my favorite ways to start the day is to backcountry ski up Mount Mansfield before the lifts open. Here is a photo I took of Will a few days ago, as the sun’s first rays broke through the clouds.
And here is one of me on a New Year’s hike.
I am doing a lot of cross country skiing and am feeling really good about the shape I am in. Unfortunately, the more I ski and the faster I get, the less races there are to enter. The list of Covid cancellations is growing on a weekly basis. Regardless, I will keep training hard and race in whatever ends up being available.
On the good news front, Everest is looking like it may happen. Things can change any minute, but the current plan is to fly to Kathmandu on March 28. Nepal is currently experiencing a major Covid surge, so – assuming we go- the trick will be to navigate the trek to base camp and get up onto the mountain without catching the virus. More on all of this as it gets closer to reality.
Looking back
Meanwhile, a year into my gap year and a half, I find myself reflecting on the experience so far. Five things have come into focus:
- I don’t need a full time job to be happy and fulfilled.
I remember my mother entering her sixties and commenting: “I am as happy as I have ever been in my life”. At the time, I found her words simultaneously surprising and comforting. Now, entering my sixties as well, I feel the same way. Like Mom, this comes on top of six decades that set the happiness bar high. I am mindful that a gap year, with its temporal structure and freedom to indulge in personal interests, is a luxury that may have a half life, but I think my happiness and fulfillment will continue. I feel very blessed.
- I really, really like outdoor sports.
In high school and college, running and cross country ski racing were core sources of fulfillment, and throughout my life mountain climbing and the outdoors have provided moments that verge on the spiritual. In my adult years, serious pursuit of these interests took a back seat as I focused on family, a business career, and non profit volunteer work; where I also found – and continue to find – deep meaning.
Now, I am returning to skiing and climbing in a big way and finding that they still make my soul sing. Really sing. But the question of appropriate balance endures. When I walked away from cross county ski racing in my early twenties, it was partly because single minded dedication to the sport was starting to lose its magic. I sought new horizons and a broader scope of engagement with the world around me.
I originally thought of my gap year as a focused timeframe in which I would ski, climb, and sail “to excess”, and that I would then return to a “normal” mix of business, nonprofits, sports, and other interests. This is still the plan, but I increasingly wonder what normal should look like for the remainder of my sixties. Part of me doesn’t want the gap year to end.
- A year goes by incredibly quickly.
I have long known this. We all know this. And the pace keeps accelerating. Still, it blows my mind that my gap year as originally scheduled is already over. It was more than a year ago that I turned sixty and headed off to Aconcagua. My seventieth birthday will be here before I know it, and then my eightieth. Physical pursuits which are currently providing such pleasure will be notably tougher as I age. I have to be deeply thoughtful about how I spend the precious resource of time, and I need to stay invested in interests I can pursue when my body starts to fade.
- The encouragement of others is golden.
When I started this blog as an adjunct to my gap year, I didn’t know where it would take me. What stands out is how meaningful it has been when people actually read it and provide encouragement. More meaningful than I would have guessed, or than you can ever know. This has turned out to be the sleeper gift of my gap year. I am grateful, and am determined to pay the gift forward. The note to self reads: “make more time to tune in to the interests of others and to cheer them on – even if just with a short email or text.”
- I must never take the status quo for granted.
This learning is actually not a product of my gap year, but more of its timing. I conceptually understood that a major pandemic was only a matter of time, but the extent to which our daily lives have been upended by Covid still feels surreal. Likewise, I have long believed that various social and political forces are weakening our nation, but – despite being told so by some very thoughtful people- I never grasped how fragile our social fabric and democracy really are. I now realize how much I took “normalcy” for granted. More than ever, I know I have an obligation to pitch in and try to help strengthen the common good.
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There you have it. I head into the final stretch of my “gap year and a half” with continued excitement and gratitude, and hopefully a bit more wisdom. Future posts will ideally be long on descriptions of mountain ridgelines, and short on philosophizing.
Happy New Year to all!