I was talking with a doctor who was starting to think about retiring. He told me he was having a hard time because his total identity was wrapped up in being a doctor. He said, I don't know what I should do. I told him, you could start introducing yourself as Larry instead of Dr. So and So. He said, what do you mean and I told him, you introduced yourself to me in a bar as Dr. So and So. That's just weird and it would be a good place for you to start unwinding your total identity as a doctor.
We listened to you last night. As always, great insight and comments. Pretty soon you'll be known more as the great tennis commentator rather than former player, Andrea Petkovic! Have a nice weekend. KB
Kevin, I have always thought that I do not want to retire from what I am doing because of its crucial importance to Human health and performance.....thanks for posting this . I read it and it resonated. The great news is our approach actually does extend out both an athlete's viable years as well as any humans. . . . and all I am doing is guiding people back to their native physiology.
A little more than a decade ago I spent a week in hospital due to herniated discs. Not good, much less recommended. Fortunately I came out of it, the condition subsided. But for awhile my legs hesitated when I asked them to do something, like run for a ball on court. I was able to tell my wonderful father-in-law, who was failing, that I was able to understand a little of what he was going through. Now I'm old, a good deal older than you, dear author, and while tennis is still central to my life, years after my years of teaching professionally ended, and though I was never close to being on tour, I can understand some of what you're going through. Wait a little, don't succumb to feeling too depressed. It will, bluntly, get worse.
On the other hand, every so often the ball miraculously finds the middle of the strings with your weight behind it, and all the world is right.
This really resonates. Even as a mediocre 35 year old former D2 player from the states and now currently coexisting with a torn labrum in the hip. There’s a grieving process for that level we once were (even if still only a mediocre level in my case, it was the best I knew).
It really does sneak up. This sport, game, whatever you want to call tennis, is really like no other. I wonder if being in the zone rallying will feel the same at 50%. Maybe it will give the same rush once I forget what it was like at 100%. Or to your point, once I’ve made peace with the reality of it all.
Then there’s the time aspect that sneaks up on you. That thump.
“How did you go bankrupt?
Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly.” - Hemingway or someone.
Thanks for sharing your experience and writing the way you do.
"When you rid yourself of an identity you thought was inherent, you become free. Free to take on any freaking identity you damn well please." -(in)Finite Jester. Should be on the wall of every therapists office...
This is one of the most illuminating and brutally sad take on retirement, ever. Goodness, reality really bites. "In the end, age is just what it is: a process of biological decay which ends in death." Can we get a surgeon general's warning on this sentence (with some skull and crossbones around it)? I think I need some cake myself now...
well said Andrea, the millions of us who play because we love tennis revel in our delusions every day.... eat that cake! (really enjoy your commentary on TC too)
Cracking story, thank you. I still remember my grade 6 teacher saying that you'll know when an athlete is about to retire because they start talking about "the body" as a separate part of themselves... Like you say, it comes for us all - with a thump!
I have walked this ground too, Andrea! In the 1970s I was a freestyle swimmer, good enough to be offered a roll-down entry to the 1976 Olympic trials, but not good enough to see any kind of future for me in this sport I loved so much! I was absolutely gutted, and a sense of failure stalked me all the way through medical school and into my early days in the Navy… by utter coincidence I started physically training and open water swimming with my next door neighbor, who was in a brand-new Navy unit called SEAL Team Six. He was amazed by my swimming ability and asked me to help him out with the team’s physical fitness program. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship for me, connecting my swimming and diving skills with my medical background. Today I am a 70-year old guy who still swims and particularly who supports so many younger athletes in their prime marathon swimming, ultra trail running and triathlon pursuits. I encourage you to stay connected to tennis and lend your incredible experience and knowledge to the sport and the world! You have so much ahead of you; perhaps your greatest legacy in tennis awaits!
A good piece, young lady. But I am 77, never more than a decent HS, small college 🏀, decent 🏌️♂️, and my body hurts every day. Sorry, but being a man and competing from the moment I took a breath has taken its toll. The only truth I know is that my body will betray me. Good luck to you and try to remember the good days as they were indeed real!
I really enjoy your funny brain. Very smart - but also very funny. But what first caught my attention was a many years ago victory celebration dance (don’t remember the event) that showed me you have the moves. Thanks for all of it.
You're absolutely correct, one of the few (unfortunately) fun things in women's tennis in the past ten years or so. I always wonder what happened when players like Andrea "disappear" and always think that injuries are to blame. As she confirmed, they are.
Regarding women's tennis: It has become monolithic, a display of hitting the ball as hard as possible with every stroke. I've completely stopped watching since Barty retired; she was the Fed of women's tennis, which brings us to men's tennis. It's suffering the same fate, though, with Alcaraz's influence, at least the drop shot has become a regular change of pace (literally).
I've played tennis for fifty years, intercollegiate, etc. and had never missed more than three months (due to a knee injury in my late twenties) until January of last year when I developed serious hip problems. After spine and hip surgeries I've recently (last week) been cleared to actually run, so after no impact, more intense rehab ensues. The next weekend with satisfactory weather that will include stepping on a court. Life will be much better then.
Having retired as an Ophthalmic Surgeon about a year ago, this resonates. Life was organized around performance. Up at 5:30 AM to run no matter how cold or hot it was. Careful attention to breakfast, off to work, careful hydration and coffee consumption to maintain sharpness at work, salmon instead of steak for dinner, an attempt to relax, bed. Wear, Wash, Rinse, Repeat.
Although I"m approaching a year into retirement, the siren of Surgery still calls. I hate every mile of my daily run, but persist for the cardiovascular benefit. Instead of starting in the cold darkness, I relish the chance to run at 9 AM, or whenever I want. Middle age still requires dietary restraint, but I can enjoy the coffee instead of administer it.
I retired at a relatively youthful 62, but I see many of my colleagues pushing past 70 to continue practice. Time is limited, so I hope they and I made the right choice working, or retiring.
It has been with great interest I've followed Andy Murray's late career. After grinding out running 10,000 miles over the last 15 years I join him in needing hip surgery. I'll follow his example and have hip resurfacing in the Fall. I hope a few months later I can resume my run and continue playing mediocre tennis and golf. And maybe a better idea of what else to do.
Why exactly did you retire at 62? (We're right on your heels.) But the Economist recently had a cover story warning readers "Why you should never retire" that haunts me. Although I didn't read it
All situations are different. It was a confluence of events. In brief, 30+ years working 50+ hours/week, endless emergency care at all hours and the rigid discipline necessary to stay on track took an emotional and physical toll. The health care system is falling apart and keeping my practice and patients healthy was the equivalent of swimming upstream. My lifestyle example instilled a good work ethic in my 4 daughters and the last 2 of 4 are finishing college, or into medical school, so the tuition end is in sight. Living below my means was critical and part was luck- being fully invested in the stock market during an unusually productive time. My girlfriend and I are savers and don't need fancy restaurants, etc. So economically most financial projections were such that working another year or two did not make much difference and working longer than 1, or 2 years was not an option. A close colleague urged me to retire 2 years ago stressing that life is short and I was working too hard for too long. One year ago and 2 years after he retired I saw him for an urgent change in vision and I diagnosed him with metastatic lung cancer (in a non-smoker) and he passed very shortly thereafter.
So..... it is different for everyone. My decision to retire was predicated on careful financial planning to confirm I could swing it financially, even with 4 daughters. Otherwise I'd have had to continue working. I've spent the first 10 months basically (trying to) learn to relax and spending time with daughters. I lack clarity of what is next and do struggle. When I'm struggling, I look at the clock and think "right now I'd be seeing patient #18 and know I would not be done until 7 PM and exhausted and stressed." So the cup of coffee is a nice alternative. I'm considering volunteer medical work overseas. I've read extensively about the reasons not to retire and can't disagree. Ultimately, our time on earth is unknown. Stopping work and eating cat food is not appealing. Dying in the saddle isn't either. If you love what you do (which I did sans the problems in healthcare) and it brings you enjoyment AND you have time and energy for things important in your life, keep working. If not, you have to figure it out.
Thanks for the fascinating insights. My partner, 64, is an MD in private practice and although he works reasonable hours with no call, he's no longer able to make a profit due to declining reimbursements and fines for not participating in various bureaucratic systems (that interfere with patient care). We have no kids and decent savings (but we're probably too cautious with investments). We're fairly frugal too, but we do go to the occasional fancy restaurant. We decided the same thing about time -- you can't buy more of it. So we're going to resign later this year and find new pursuits. We just tested the experience with a week off at home and it was fine...we even forgot what day of the week it was (briefly). Retirement is a jarring change from decades of learning, achieving, working and literally fighting for our jobs. But we must heed the experience of your close colleague and pursue quality of life in this moment.
I'm sure you'll make it work. Open a dialogue about shared time. Some individuals need space, some couples are like a couple of birds together 24/7.
Work is important for most people's identity, but it IS the Identity for physicians, religious leaders, professional sports layers and other leaders and professionals.
Keep the medical license active. Going back to some part time or voluntary work is a nice card to have up one's sleeve when it is a choice but not a need.
People don't realize how the medical system is falling apart by killing off the physician providers. Stay healthy!
I was talking with a doctor who was starting to think about retiring. He told me he was having a hard time because his total identity was wrapped up in being a doctor. He said, I don't know what I should do. I told him, you could start introducing yourself as Larry instead of Dr. So and So. He said, what do you mean and I told him, you introduced yourself to me in a bar as Dr. So and So. That's just weird and it would be a good place for you to start unwinding your total identity as a doctor.
We listened to you last night. As always, great insight and comments. Pretty soon you'll be known more as the great tennis commentator rather than former player, Andrea Petkovic! Have a nice weekend. KB
Kevin, I have always thought that I do not want to retire from what I am doing because of its crucial importance to Human health and performance.....thanks for posting this . I read it and it resonated. The great news is our approach actually does extend out both an athlete's viable years as well as any humans. . . . and all I am doing is guiding people back to their native physiology.
Very thought provoking piece. Thank you for the insight. I really enjoy your writing.
Lastly: Pimples are a sign of youth. That’s how I embrace them.
Morten, 45 y.o.
fantastic standpoint on pimples!
Love this. So well put and applicable to all of us, even non-athletes.
A little more than a decade ago I spent a week in hospital due to herniated discs. Not good, much less recommended. Fortunately I came out of it, the condition subsided. But for awhile my legs hesitated when I asked them to do something, like run for a ball on court. I was able to tell my wonderful father-in-law, who was failing, that I was able to understand a little of what he was going through. Now I'm old, a good deal older than you, dear author, and while tennis is still central to my life, years after my years of teaching professionally ended, and though I was never close to being on tour, I can understand some of what you're going through. Wait a little, don't succumb to feeling too depressed. It will, bluntly, get worse.
On the other hand, every so often the ball miraculously finds the middle of the strings with your weight behind it, and all the world is right.
Thanks for this.
This really resonates. Even as a mediocre 35 year old former D2 player from the states and now currently coexisting with a torn labrum in the hip. There’s a grieving process for that level we once were (even if still only a mediocre level in my case, it was the best I knew).
It really does sneak up. This sport, game, whatever you want to call tennis, is really like no other. I wonder if being in the zone rallying will feel the same at 50%. Maybe it will give the same rush once I forget what it was like at 100%. Or to your point, once I’ve made peace with the reality of it all.
Then there’s the time aspect that sneaks up on you. That thump.
“How did you go bankrupt?
Two ways. Gradually, then suddenly.” - Hemingway or someone.
Thanks for sharing your experience and writing the way you do.
that quote 😂
"When you rid yourself of an identity you thought was inherent, you become free. Free to take on any freaking identity you damn well please." -(in)Finite Jester. Should be on the wall of every therapists office...
This is one of the most illuminating and brutally sad take on retirement, ever. Goodness, reality really bites. "In the end, age is just what it is: a process of biological decay which ends in death." Can we get a surgeon general's warning on this sentence (with some skull and crossbones around it)? I think I need some cake myself now...
it ends on kind of a positive note?
The very definition of bittersweet!
well said Andrea, the millions of us who play because we love tennis revel in our delusions every day.... eat that cake! (really enjoy your commentary on TC too)
One of my favorite quotes from Albert Camus is also applicable: "The only paradises we know are the ones we've lost".
Cracking story, thank you. I still remember my grade 6 teacher saying that you'll know when an athlete is about to retire because they start talking about "the body" as a separate part of themselves... Like you say, it comes for us all - with a thump!
your grade 6 teacher was very wise! such an astute observation.
Love it! Thanks again!
Love it. Thanks Andrea.
I have walked this ground too, Andrea! In the 1970s I was a freestyle swimmer, good enough to be offered a roll-down entry to the 1976 Olympic trials, but not good enough to see any kind of future for me in this sport I loved so much! I was absolutely gutted, and a sense of failure stalked me all the way through medical school and into my early days in the Navy… by utter coincidence I started physically training and open water swimming with my next door neighbor, who was in a brand-new Navy unit called SEAL Team Six. He was amazed by my swimming ability and asked me to help him out with the team’s physical fitness program. That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship for me, connecting my swimming and diving skills with my medical background. Today I am a 70-year old guy who still swims and particularly who supports so many younger athletes in their prime marathon swimming, ultra trail running and triathlon pursuits. I encourage you to stay connected to tennis and lend your incredible experience and knowledge to the sport and the world! You have so much ahead of you; perhaps your greatest legacy in tennis awaits!
A good piece, young lady. But I am 77, never more than a decent HS, small college 🏀, decent 🏌️♂️, and my body hurts every day. Sorry, but being a man and competing from the moment I took a breath has taken its toll. The only truth I know is that my body will betray me. Good luck to you and try to remember the good days as they were indeed real!
I really enjoy your funny brain. Very smart - but also very funny. But what first caught my attention was a many years ago victory celebration dance (don’t remember the event) that showed me you have the moves. Thanks for all of it.
You're absolutely correct, one of the few (unfortunately) fun things in women's tennis in the past ten years or so. I always wonder what happened when players like Andrea "disappear" and always think that injuries are to blame. As she confirmed, they are.
Regarding women's tennis: It has become monolithic, a display of hitting the ball as hard as possible with every stroke. I've completely stopped watching since Barty retired; she was the Fed of women's tennis, which brings us to men's tennis. It's suffering the same fate, though, with Alcaraz's influence, at least the drop shot has become a regular change of pace (literally).
I've played tennis for fifty years, intercollegiate, etc. and had never missed more than three months (due to a knee injury in my late twenties) until January of last year when I developed serious hip problems. After spine and hip surgeries I've recently (last week) been cleared to actually run, so after no impact, more intense rehab ensues. The next weekend with satisfactory weather that will include stepping on a court. Life will be much better then.
Having retired as an Ophthalmic Surgeon about a year ago, this resonates. Life was organized around performance. Up at 5:30 AM to run no matter how cold or hot it was. Careful attention to breakfast, off to work, careful hydration and coffee consumption to maintain sharpness at work, salmon instead of steak for dinner, an attempt to relax, bed. Wear, Wash, Rinse, Repeat.
Although I"m approaching a year into retirement, the siren of Surgery still calls. I hate every mile of my daily run, but persist for the cardiovascular benefit. Instead of starting in the cold darkness, I relish the chance to run at 9 AM, or whenever I want. Middle age still requires dietary restraint, but I can enjoy the coffee instead of administer it.
I retired at a relatively youthful 62, but I see many of my colleagues pushing past 70 to continue practice. Time is limited, so I hope they and I made the right choice working, or retiring.
It has been with great interest I've followed Andy Murray's late career. After grinding out running 10,000 miles over the last 15 years I join him in needing hip surgery. I'll follow his example and have hip resurfacing in the Fall. I hope a few months later I can resume my run and continue playing mediocre tennis and golf. And maybe a better idea of what else to do.
Why exactly did you retire at 62? (We're right on your heels.) But the Economist recently had a cover story warning readers "Why you should never retire" that haunts me. Although I didn't read it
All situations are different. It was a confluence of events. In brief, 30+ years working 50+ hours/week, endless emergency care at all hours and the rigid discipline necessary to stay on track took an emotional and physical toll. The health care system is falling apart and keeping my practice and patients healthy was the equivalent of swimming upstream. My lifestyle example instilled a good work ethic in my 4 daughters and the last 2 of 4 are finishing college, or into medical school, so the tuition end is in sight. Living below my means was critical and part was luck- being fully invested in the stock market during an unusually productive time. My girlfriend and I are savers and don't need fancy restaurants, etc. So economically most financial projections were such that working another year or two did not make much difference and working longer than 1, or 2 years was not an option. A close colleague urged me to retire 2 years ago stressing that life is short and I was working too hard for too long. One year ago and 2 years after he retired I saw him for an urgent change in vision and I diagnosed him with metastatic lung cancer (in a non-smoker) and he passed very shortly thereafter.
So..... it is different for everyone. My decision to retire was predicated on careful financial planning to confirm I could swing it financially, even with 4 daughters. Otherwise I'd have had to continue working. I've spent the first 10 months basically (trying to) learn to relax and spending time with daughters. I lack clarity of what is next and do struggle. When I'm struggling, I look at the clock and think "right now I'd be seeing patient #18 and know I would not be done until 7 PM and exhausted and stressed." So the cup of coffee is a nice alternative. I'm considering volunteer medical work overseas. I've read extensively about the reasons not to retire and can't disagree. Ultimately, our time on earth is unknown. Stopping work and eating cat food is not appealing. Dying in the saddle isn't either. If you love what you do (which I did sans the problems in healthcare) and it brings you enjoyment AND you have time and energy for things important in your life, keep working. If not, you have to figure it out.
Thanks for the fascinating insights. My partner, 64, is an MD in private practice and although he works reasonable hours with no call, he's no longer able to make a profit due to declining reimbursements and fines for not participating in various bureaucratic systems (that interfere with patient care). We have no kids and decent savings (but we're probably too cautious with investments). We're fairly frugal too, but we do go to the occasional fancy restaurant. We decided the same thing about time -- you can't buy more of it. So we're going to resign later this year and find new pursuits. We just tested the experience with a week off at home and it was fine...we even forgot what day of the week it was (briefly). Retirement is a jarring change from decades of learning, achieving, working and literally fighting for our jobs. But we must heed the experience of your close colleague and pursue quality of life in this moment.
I'm sure you'll make it work. Open a dialogue about shared time. Some individuals need space, some couples are like a couple of birds together 24/7.
Work is important for most people's identity, but it IS the Identity for physicians, religious leaders, professional sports layers and other leaders and professionals.
Keep the medical license active. Going back to some part time or voluntary work is a nice card to have up one's sleeve when it is a choice but not a need.
People don't realize how the medical system is falling apart by killing off the physician providers. Stay healthy!