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There are certain phrases I’ve heard thousands of times. Most of them are relatively simple, and they don’t elicit much thought beyond the superficial absorption of the idea itself. Others are more complex. They force you to ask questions every time you hear the phrase, and, in many cases, your interpretation of the edict evolves over time.
Let’s look at, “Invest in yourself.”
You’ve heard this one thousands of times, too. I’m quite comfortable with the phrase, and it has provided great utility to me over the last three decades or so. It recently has taken on a new meaning for me.
Previously, I’ve made substantial investments in my brain, my career, my business and my family. I regret none of those decisions, as they’ve positively paid off in varying degrees. Now, I’m concerned with investing in my quality of life. Not in a luxury sense, but in a wellness sense.
Let me cut to the chase: I’m getting older, and I want to be as mobile and active as possible for as long as possible. And yes, there’s absolutely a financial component on both the front end and the back end of the endeavor. I simply believe an upfront investment in my health will mitigate reactive medical expenses in the future, But, more important, I will substantially increase my opportunity for more fulfilling satisfaction overall.
But let me be clear: This is not a transformation story. This isn’t some Hollywood montage of a man conquering age with determination and protein powder. I’m still in the thick of figuring it out. I’m still the guy who Googled, “Is two peanut butter sandwiches too many?” at 11:23 p.m.
What changed was my view of the stakes. For years, I saw health and fitness as optional line items in the budget of adulthood. Now I see them as foundational. You know the phrase, “Pay now or pay later”? That’s never felt more literal than when I look at my grocery receipt beside my health insurance premium. Preventive wellness isn’t just a fad phrase; it’s the only rational hedge we have against the physical and financial costs of poor health.
So, I started making decisions the way I approach financial planning: with intention, structure and a clear “why.”
First, I tackled movement. I didn’t need to reinvent myself as an endurance athlete. I just needed to move—consistently, purposefully and in ways that didn’t bore me to death. I picked up rucking, which is essentially walking with a weighted backpack. That might sound like a punishment left over from middle school gym class, but it’s surprisingly effective and weirdly therapeutic. I also lift weights a few times a week—not to get ripped but to preserve muscle and joint function as I age.
Next came nutrition. I don’t eat perfectly, but I do eat consciously. I pay attention to protein intake. I drink water like I’m preparing for a desert crossing. I try to eat foods that make future-me high-five present-me.
I’m not writing this with one of those massive plastic water bottles beside me and an unseasoned chicken breast in the oven. But I think about what I’m eating.
The biggest change? I no longer see fitness and nutrition as things to master. They’re just part of life now. Like brushing my teeth or showing up to work on time, they’re built into my identity—not as a grind, but as a form of respect. For myself. For the people who count on me. And for the person I want to be 20 years from now.
It’s easy to dismiss all of this as some midlife moment of vanity or an overcorrection to a medical scare. It’s not. This is a financial decision. A relational decision. A professional decision. Because the better I feel, the better I function, and that affects every role I occupy in life.
So now when I hear, “Invest in yourself,” I don’t just think about reading more or building new skills. I think about squats, salmon and sleep. I think about a long walk after dinner. I think about staying off blood pressure meds—not just to save on prescriptions but to spare myself the side effects and the mental toll of a chronic diagnosis.
I used to think investing in yourself meant betting on your future. Now I think it means honoring your present. It’s waking up and making choices that feel small in the moment but pay massive dividends over time. And like any good investment plan, it works best with consistency, patience and a long-term view.•
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Dunn is CEO of Your Money Line powered by Pete the Planner, an employee-benefit organization focused on solving employees’ financial challenges. Email your financial questions to [email protected].
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As someone who recently crossed into my sixth decade, I agree wholeheartedly and am grateful to a family physician who in my 30s counseled me to begin thinking of nutrition and fitness as the most affordable health insurance. I wonder how many financial planners talk about this important topic with younger clients versus waiting until they are much older.
Well written and well received. Five years ago, I cut meat out of my diet; initially an environmental decision, it is also a conscious decision for better health; Yoga of mobility, light weight work and a minimum of 2 hours outside in our home gardens daily. Along the physical aspects, mental aspects such as meditation and prayer also help to knock down the noise of the world and are helpful to decrease stress. Thanks for the article, good stuff!
Very well stated. I cut out processed sugars in my young 20s. I eat healthy and exercise. Walk to and from work. But now, 61, I realize I want to decrease stress I heap upon myself by taking on too many community-building projects over and above my full time job, which tends to result in working 7 days per week without vacations. Vacations bore me, I love working, but reducing my self-initiated work load will give me to time to relax, reflect, plan, focus on priorities, and might increase the impact I can have on the world by focusing on my strengths and reducing my stress to ensure long-term health.