Dr. Susan Biali

What about that conference last year in Cancun, you ask?  Nope, doesn’t count either.  Why?  Well, I’m guessing that: a) you probably attended at least a handful of sessions and most likely you had to get up at a certain time in the morning in order to make it; b) you probably spent at least 10% of your vacation “talking shop” to other colleagues and thinking about work-related issues; c) you chose the location, and time of year of your vacation based on the relevant conference, because you could write off your “holiday”.  Take a minute, and note how it feels to contemplate that kind of vacation.

Now, picture taking a vacation in which you and your significant other, plus or minus some very excited kids, first flip through a stack of travel brochures, fantasizing about and trying to decide which, out of several potential fabulous destinations, you want to go to the most. 
Then, when you get there, you get up when you want to, and no one has the power to plan your day but you.  I realize that some of you, on vacation with a spouse or friend, may not actually get much of a say in the day’s itinerary, but at least someone you like or love is in charge, rather than a conference planner. 

Just so you know, I’m as guilty as you are.  The other day I tried to remember when I last took a real vacation.  The verdict: Puerto Vallarta, one week, October 2003.  I got married in Vallarta this year, but between all the arrangements and last minute ring-buying, it didn’t turned out be that much of a holiday.  I went to Spain in September last spring to study flamenco, but that doesn’t count, either.  I spend a lot of time in Mexico (this being the main reason I “thought” I didn’t need to take vacations anymore), but while I’m here I still have a life to live.  In addition to the stuff of daily life, I coach over the phone, work on writing projects, do media interviews, teach salsa workshops, and rehearse and perform my flamenco. I live steps from the beach, but yesterday, when someone asked me, I realized I hadn’t touched the sand in two weeks.  

We’re not alone.  In 2006, the discount-travel website Expedia.com surveyed over 2,000 Americans, and reported that “vacation deprivation in America is at an all-time high”.  Expedia general manager Sally McKenzie commented that “this trend of overworked and vacation-deprived workers is both unfortunate and, in many ways, unsustainable”.  “We end up angrier, more bitter, with less sense of doing anything meaningful,” noted sociologist Scott Schaffer.

I don’t know that this information alone would have changed my behavior - I’m pretty comfortable with my activity-holic compulsions.  My adrenal glands, to their credit and probable regret, have pretty much adjusted to this life-long pace.  What got me was a study I found on the internet, which had been published in a 2000 edition of the journal Psychosomatic Medicine. 

The headline read: “Research suggests that working for years without taking vacations could put people at risk for an early death.”  They looked at the relationship between death rates and frequency of vacations in 12 000 men who were participating in a study looking at coronary heart disease risk factors.  The biggest difference in death rates was between the 13% of subjects who never, ever took a vacation, and the 26% who enjoyed five vacations a year.  Over the nine year period, the men who took five vacations per year had a 40% lower risk of dying versus the ones who didn’t take vacations.  Yikes.  Of course, it depends how you look at it – it may be bad news for the workaholics of the world who think they can get by without vacations, but it’s also really encouraging for those of us who wake up in time and decide to make some changes.

After all, what moments in your life do you really remember?  When I think of my childhood, I remember splashing in pools in Hawaii with my sisters, touring great cathedrals in Europe with my parents, playing in the sand on the Canary Islands, gazing in awe at the pyramids, and cracking up while my mom tried to ride a camel. 

I’d imagine the same will be true for my adult life.  On my deathbed, I won’t be thinking fondly of those faceless five extra weeks I spent working in 2007, but I definitely would remember that romantic tour of Tuscany with my man, that week spent with my sisters lounging in the Carribean, and the time I arranged a family reunion in Hawaii.  Er, not that I’ve actually done any of these yet…but if I want to live to see forty I’d better call my travel agent, and soon.