You could be compromising your personal time by going with the flow

Recently, a news article about Singapore marathoner Soh Rui Yong sparked a mini revelation.

“Singapore’s top marathoner launches academy” announced the headline. The report detailed his plans to offer remote marathon coaching services to working professionals.

What really struck me, however, was his statement: “Once you’re an adult, the schedule is very different. Your time is no longer yours; your time belongs to your boss, wife, kids – you may have only one hour of free time a day to exercise.

“But the beauty of running is that’s all you need.”

Just to be clear, there are two things in life I absolutely detest: long-distance running and Ed Sheeran. Soh’s running school didn’t pique my interest, but his astute observation about time being a shared resource did.

It’s a rather depressing reality, and one that we seldom take pause to mourn. I’m soon on my way past my mid-30s (and possibly on to another existential crisis), which had me thinking about being more mindful with my personal time.

We attach numbers to things that are important to us – our finances, milestones, and even the dreaded post-holiday weight gain – so why aren’t we more discerning about our time?

The joy of timekeeping

A career in publishing means deadlines are absolute, and work does bleed into after hours on weekdays and weekends. As an associate editor who oversees the production of our print magazine, I’m in an unenviable position where a missed deadline often triggers a domino effect. Due to the delay in completing tasks, personal plans have to be put on hold, in order to make up for – yes – lost time.

It’s why the one thing that’s truly important to me is who or what I choose to spend my free time on. It’s my version of self-care, by the minute.

In my 20s, my friends and I had no qualms about whiling our Friday nights away at a Starbucks outlet, immersed in conversations that meandered past midnight. Now, with increasing work and personal commitments in our 30s, a “spontaneous” catch-up is really one that’s scheduled months in advance.

A quarterly three- or four-hour brunch or dinner is solely reserved for this select group of close friends. Sometimes, I might catch up with an old friend or acquaintance over coffee – but if the two-hour mark is up, I’ll be on my way. There’s always Whatsapp or social media if either of us feel inclined to reach out again.

As it turns out, besides long-distance running and Ed Sheeran, I’m not fond of mandated small talk either. Hence, my presence at parties and weddings is subject to interest and personal attachment. Family gatherings aside, I rarely attend anything out of obligation, unless it’s with company I love and enjoy.

On most weekends, I keep a fairly predictable schedule. My day runs like clockwork. It’s when I recalibrate through my hobbies, which are often independent ventures: a long hike in a nature reserve, the occasional birdwatching excursion, or a yoga session. The meditative nature of these activities allows me to be present with the time I have, and for that period, the minutes become an inconsequential gift.

Still, nothing brings me more pleasure than a solo vacation over Christmas and New Year. It’s when shared ownership of my time is forfeited, and I get to indulge in the cathartic release of blasting automated “Out of Office, Out of F***s” e-mails to each and every inbox. Have an urgent e-mail? Sorry (not sorry), that’s next year’s problem.

Time for a change

Some might question my pedantic approach to personal time – won’t I be missing the joie de vivre of life? On the contrary, it’s a filtering mechanism that helps me identify those who genuinely value my time and, in turn, our relationship. You know what they say: Those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind… Well, you can take a number.

Geoffrey Chaucer, the English poet and author, said time waits for no person, and he’s absolutely right. For every free second you spend on someone or something you care little about, it’s one second less for yourself or a loved one.

So isn’t it time to make these moments count?