The end game

by

4 Oct 2013

A swift pint with industry colleagues can often lead to regret and reflection the morning after, but rarely have I reflected quite as much as I did one wet Wednesday morning a few months ago.  The precise details are still vague, but at some point between the fourth and fifth pint the previous evening, I had agreed to walk 25 miles for charity. 

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A swift pint with industry colleagues can often lead to regret and reflection the morning after, but rarely have I reflected quite as much as I did one wet Wednesday morning a few months ago.  The precise details are still vague, but at some point between the fourth and fifth pint the previous evening, I had agreed to walk 25 miles for charity. 

A swift pint with industry colleagues can often lead to regret and reflection the morning after, but rarely have I reflected quite as much as I did one wet Wednesday morning a few months ago.  The precise details are still vague, but at some point between the fourth and fifth pint the previous evening, I had agreed to walk 25 miles for charity. 

This wasn’t a simple, straight-forward street marathon either: this was the Great Pentlands Push, a rugged route which would take us uphill and down dale across the string of hills which surround Edinburgh.

As a result of my drunken bravado, the past few months have witnessed a blur of preparation. This for the most part has  been verbal, but with the date growing ever  closer, I spent the last few weeks trying  to cram in as much physical training as  possible, with increased trips to the gym  (a 100% increase in fact) and long ambles  at the weekend.

As the sun began to rise over the hills, more than 330 people assembled to take part in this year’s event, with most aiming to complete the 25 mile gold course and others attempting the 18 mile silver route or the 13 mile bronze route.

I had naturally assumed all the hard work  would be done on the hills themselves  (most of them are over 500m in height  and I’m convinced at least two of them  will one day be reclassified as mountains)  and certainly on a physical level – it was.  But in hindsight it was the 6km home stretch which took the biggest toll on my spirits.

Although the last leg of the route was relatively flat, the trail seemed to go on forever.  As my legs and feet protested at every step, I would convince myself that the finish line had to be just around the next bend. Then, upon reaching said bend, I would inevitably find the path snaking out in front of me as far I could see.

I was tired and emotional having already waked for 11 hours by this point and it seemed incredibly unfair that not only had I not finished, but I couldn’t even see where the finish line was. It’s a situation many pension funds currently find themselves in. In getting themselves ready for the “end game”, schemes face a complex array of solutions, ranging from longevity swaps to synthetic buy-ins to full buyout.  Furthermore, some schemes face a more pressing concern: deciding what the end game actually is.

The finishing line lies at buy-out for some schemes and in self-sufficiency – paying benefits without reliance on investment returns or sponsor contributions – for others. But whatever its form, and no matter how long it takes to get there, knowing where (and what) that finish line is will make the journey so much easier.

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