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My friend recently spent five days with us at our vacation home. At some point our conversation turned to his work situation. He’s an independent IT systems rollout contractor in his early sixties, based in London, with years of experience and a large network of industry contacts. The trouble right now is a prolonged downturn in the market, and contracts have been few and far between for the last fifteen months.
As a result, he’s been burning through his cash buffer faster than the occasional job can replenish it. Fifteen months in, it’s not yet a crisis, but it’s starting to worry him. He’s been thinking about cutting back on his lifestyle spending. At one point during our chat he started throwing out figures, different expenses, what he might scale back.
Then he said his gym membership was non-negotiable, which gave me pause. I pushed back, telling him that $275 a month for a high-end gym was silly money, and that it was the obvious thing to cut. His response reminded me how differently we each weigh what counts as “essential.”
Work has dried up, and he’s a single guy whose close friends have either passed away or moved far from London. The gym is what gives his day structure. He gets up early, swims a hundred lengths, spends time in the sauna, and relaxes on the facility’s artificial beach. It’s his daily dose of social contact and it keeps his mental wellbeing intact.
He’s been a member for years. He knows the regulars, and he knows the staff. To him, it’s not a luxury. It’s essential to his overall wellbeing.
It got me thinking about my own red line: membership fees for a couple of racket sports clubs. On paper they look easy to cut, but they keep me fit and they keep me connected to a regular group of people and a sport I love. I’m not sure I could give up one membership, let alone both.
What about you? Is there something in your budget that most people would call optional, but you consider a red line you’d struggle to cut? What is it, and why does it matter so much to you?
I will admit I haven’t read all these comments, but I was struck by both the friend and the author recognizing the place that activiy-related socializing held for them. I think it is easy to think that our social needs should come from “friendships” that somehow magically develop or that we have had forever. But as I have retired, ended caregiving when my husband died, and am now experiencing a retired life on my own, as well as having relocated, I have come to value the socializing that occurs in all kinds of situations. Whether connections develop because of an activity, or whether it is just passing connections at an event, etc., we humans need that link to others, and we need to value that and focus on how we make that happen, to whatever degree, above all. It will keep us able to be alone much of the time in our lives, but happy, and mentally healthy, because we have a variety of connections.
Wendy, sorry to hear of your loss. Sport, and the social side that comes with it, has been a constant thread through my life since childhood. I’d say the social aspect matters as much for the mind as the exercise does for the body. And as you say, it doesn’t happen on its own — we have to make the effort.
My sporting journey has evolved with age: rough contact sports like rugby and football when I was young, faster competitive sports like tennis and badminton as I moved on from contact, and now easing into gentler ones like pickleball and padel. Through it all, the constant has been the social connection.
Things I could cut, first class plane tickets, day trips once or twice a month where I burn up a full tank of gas, buying a new cordless power tool I don’t really need, buying a large 5.3 oz. Lindt Dark Chocolate Hazelnut Classic Recipe Bar every Sunday when I do my grocery shopping. But I’m not in the saturation of your friend. I’m retired, have no debt, and my pension and social security income cover all my expenses with money left over.
If I was your friend I’d being cutting back everything to the bare minimum. The last thing he wants is to run out of money. He should also explore looking for another job, any job, even part time which would slow or stop his cash buffer draw down and extend extend the time he can wait until things pick up again.
Tim, that’s exactly the conversation we were having about cutting back. My friend still has an 18-month buffer in his business account, but he’s being proactive about stretching that out closer to the two-year mark. On a personal note, I’ve got a bit of a weakness for chocolate with nuts, so I’m going to check out that Lindt bar — sounds good.