I had a friend a few years back who was overweight, bald, and had that pinkish tinge of a middle-aged man with blood pressure problems. He had his own (small) IT infrastructure business.
He had a minor heart attack around his 38th birthday and about three months later sold his company and bought a one-way plane ticket to Jamaica (somewhere in the Caribbean, anyway). We were a rather large circle of friends, and none of us heard anything from him for about 18 months, when he sent us a photo.
It was of him, ripped and toned and with a deep golden tan standing on a yacht with his arms around two gorgeous women in bikinis.
He’d earned his skipper’s license and was making a living as a boat captain, sailing rich people around on their yachts. -euric