A few months ago I retired from a corporate job that I was dedicated to for 8 years. I loved working with people and teams. We built and grew and created and I had the honor of working with so many intelligent, fun and talented people. It was a wonderful experience.

So why resign? This was the question I was asked by every person I began to share my decision with back in early June. The 15 pandemic months of night and day work, new technology, a complete shift in the way we and our clients were doing business, were all behind us. Record breaking revenues encouraged our “post pandemic” struggles and confirmed that we’d survived, and in fact thrived. Initially, my decision to leave was not understood.

The best way I could describe it was to use a “treadmill” analogy. You know the one! The running, rote, indoctrinated routine of getting onto that proverbial treadmill every day, and feeling like I couldn’t pause that constantly moving machine to exercise even a hint of spontaneity like going for a walk or meeting a friend for a meal. 

It never took many words for the person listening to my answer to interrupt my analogy and say “Yeah, I get it.” Followed by “I am so happy for you! Congrats!”

Perhaps the turning point in my corporate career trajectory came years before, when I didn’t even realize it. It was early morning, still dark and I was on my actual treadmill, getting my workout in before the business day started. This was a practice that I learned would give me the best shot at a productive day. And even if it wasn’t one, or there were things falling apart, my body and mind had gotten the gift of exercise.

But on this morning, however many years ago something was different. Something remarkable that despite thousands of early morning steps and rituals in my adult life, had never happened before. As I warmed up and was moving only at a walking pace, I went from upright, to flat on my face on the ground behind my machine. I’d fallen asleep on the treadmill.

Literally, this is not a good plan! For one, I was hurt. I was disoriented and pulled some muscles I didn’t know were there (a risk of moving our bodies during middle age and beyond.) Also, I couldn’t complete my workout that day, as a result of falling asleep and subsequent injury. So I didn’t feel prepared for my day. 

I did laugh at myself, and share the story with some of my colleagues. And although no one chimed in with “Yeah, that happened to me once” I knew I wasn’t alone in the awareness that we were all pushing ourselves to the point of falling asleep (ironically) while exercising and it could have happened to them as well.

But figuratively, this was not a good plan for me either. I was falling asleep on the treadmill of life. Other ways to describe the dynamic I am referring to are sayings like “Wash…Rinse…Repeat” or “Same crap, different day” or “Time to make the doughnuts!” (For Dunkin lovers!)

Falling so hard off that treadmill was a jolt after which, things were not the same. I realized I was sleeping through my workout, and my life. Although there were many satisfying components of my work, they were not impactful enough to keep me awake. Unless I wanted to keep falling, I needed to make a change.

And thus a change in my life’s trajectory, from early morning workouts to courageous choices of change. Not the “easy” path by far, but years after this happened, and three months after leaving the corporate gig, I have never been so completely and utterly rested, and well exercised, in my life.