How to Plan a Trip When Your Energy Is Unpredictable

How to Plan a Trip When Your Energy Is Unpredictable

When it was announced that the Star Wars convention would be in London, I was all in.

I had wanted to go to the UK for decades, and if I was finally going to make that long flight overseas, I wanted to see as much as I possibly could. I booked a two-week bus tour through Scotland, followed by a flight to Dublin for three days. After that, I planned ten days in London, where I would meet up with friends and spend a week with them, including going to the Star Wars convention.

And since I was already there and had the time, why stop at London? I added a train ride to Paris for a packed three-day adventure before heading back to London to fly home.

It was a fantastic vacation.

It was also my first time traveling overseas, so planning that trip became something of a passion project for me. I researched everything. I planned transportation, accommodations, activities and, especially, how I was going to manage my medications. I even traveled with a small insulated lunch bag to safely carry medications that needed special handling. If you're trying to figure out the medication side of traveling with chronic illness, read my article Traveling With Chronic Illnesses, Part One: Managing Medications.

I thought I had planned that trip like a pro.

There was just one rather important thing I hadn't really planned for:

My chronic illness.

We Plan Vacations for the Body We Hope We'll Have

When we make plans months in advance, we have a funny way of imagining that everything will go perfectly.

We picture ourselves waking up rested every morning. We assume our pain will cooperate, our energy will hold out, our medications will behave, we'll sleep well in an unfamiliar bed, and we'll somehow have enough stamina for everything we've put on the itinerary.

I think I was especially guilty of this on that trip because I was so excited. I wasn't sitting at home thinking about what my body might feel like after weeks of traveling. I was looking at maps, tours and all the places I had dreamed about seeing. Every time I found something else interesting, my reaction was basically, Well, I'm already going to be there. When am I going to get this chance again?

That's an easy way to build a wonderful itinerary on paper—and an exhausting one in real life.

Chronic illness doesn't care how beautiful your itinerary looks.

Actually, life doesn't work that way either.

If we wait until all the circumstances are perfect before taking the trip, we may keep putting that trip back on the shelf waiting for a perfect time that never arrives. That's something I talk about in Stop Waiting for the Perfect Time to Travel: Why You Should Take That Vacation Now Even If You Are Single, Sick, or Broke.

The other option is to book the trip and assume our health will simply keep up with whatever adventure we've planned.

That's not particularly realistic either.

I learned that lesson in London.

Scotland had been amazing. Ireland had been amazing. London was amazing. The Star Wars convention was something I'd looked forward to for a long time, and getting to experience it with my friends made it even better.

But eventually my body had had enough.

I still had places I wanted to see and things I wanted to experience. There was absolutely no shortage of things I could have done that day. I had traveled thousands of miles, after all. Part of me could easily have said, You're in London. Get up. You can rest when you get home.

And I think that's one of the most dangerous little sentences we tell ourselves on vacation: I can rest when I get home.

Sometimes you can't wait until you get home.

Sometimes resting today is what allows you to enjoy tomorrow.

Instead, I made a different choice.

I took the day off.

And it was wonderful.

I stayed in my hotel room in my robe and pajamas. I ordered room service. I climbed into bed and watched reruns of Game of Thrones.

That was my London itinerary for the day.

No museum. No landmark. No tour. No trying to squeeze one more experience out of the money I'd spent getting there.

And surprisingly, once I stopped fighting the idea that I should be out doing something, I enjoyed myself. I wasn't sitting in that hotel room mourning London. I was comfortable. I was warm. Someone brought food to my room. I was watching Game of Thrones in bed while actually being in the UK. There are worse ways to spend a vacation day.

I rested.

Afterward, I was able to see more of London and continue on to Paris. I finished the trip, came home with incredible memories, and considered the entire vacation a complete success.

Looking back, I don't think of that day in the hotel as a day I lost.

I think it's one of the reasons the trip worked.

Had I forced myself to keep going, I could easily have triggered a flare and turned one day of rest into several miserable days. If you do experience a flare while traveling, I've written more about that in Traveling With Chronic Illness During Flares: When Your Body Slows Down but Your Soul Wants to Travel.

But what happened in London taught me something bigger about traveling with unpredictable energy.

I had to do three things.

First, I had to admit that I was exhausted.

Second, I had to give myself permission not to go anywhere.

And third, I had to decide what a good day could look like when the original plan was no longer the right plan.

That is what this article is really about.

Because when your energy is unpredictable, you don't necessarily need a smaller life.

You need a more flexible plan.

Stop Planning Every Vacation for Your Best Day

One of the hardest parts of planning a trip with chronic illness is that you don't know which version of yourself is going to wake up on any particular morning.

You might have a day when you feel surprisingly good. You might have an average day when you can do quite a bit as long as you pace yourself. And you might wake up one morning knowing immediately that your body has changed the plans.

That's something that's difficult to explain to someone whose energy is fairly predictable. You can make a reservation six months from now, but you can't make a reservation with your body six months from now. You don't know exactly what you're going to get that morning.

Most traditional vacation itineraries don't leave much room for that.

We book the 9:00 tour, the 1:00 lunch reservation, the 3:00 museum ticket and the 7:00 show. Then we look at the empty spaces and think, Oh, we could probably squeeze something else in there.

I've done that. An empty space on an itinerary can start looking like a problem that needs to be fixed.

It isn't.

That empty space might turn out to be one of the smartest things you planned.

When your energy isn't predictable, an overloaded itinerary only succeeds if your body performs according to schedule.

Instead of asking, "How much can I fit into this trip?" start asking, "How can I make this trip work on both my good days and my difficult ones?"

That one question changes almost everything about how you plan.

Build Space Into the Trip Before You Need It

I used to think rest was something you added when things went wrong.

Now I think it belongs in the original itinerary.

If you know that flying wipes you out, don't plan your most important experience for the morning after arrival. If a long sightseeing day usually costs you the next day, don't schedule two major days back-to-back. If mornings are difficult, stop building itineraries that require you to leave the hotel at 7:30am every day just because that's what a tour company suggests.

You aren't wasting vacation time by leaving open space.

You're protecting the experiences that matter most.

This is something I wish I had understood better when I first started planning ambitious trips. I thought good planning meant knowing exactly what I was doing every day. Now I think good planning sometimes means deliberately not knowing what you're doing Tuesday afternoon.

For some travelers, that may mean keeping the first evening completely free. For someone else, it might mean alternating a major sightseeing day with a lighter day. You might deliberately leave one afternoon unplanned every few days or build an entire open day into a longer vacation.

And here's the important part: you don't have to spend that time resting if you don't need it.

If Tuesday arrives and you feel fantastic, go do something.

That's the beauty of open space.

It's much easier to add an activity because you're feeling wonderful than to cancel five prepaid activities because you're not.

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Decide What Matters Most Before You Leave Home

When everything on your itinerary has equal importance, it's incredibly hard to let anything go.

So don't make everything equal.

Before the trip, identify the experiences that would genuinely disappoint you to miss.

Maybe you've dreamed for twenty years about seeing the Eiffel Tower. Maybe you're traveling specifically for a concert, convention, wedding or family event. Maybe there's one museum you've always wanted to visit. Maybe the entire reason you're going is to sit beside the ocean.

Those are your priorities.

Everything else can orbit around them.

For me, the Star Wars convention was one of those things. I didn't travel all that way specifically to spend a day watching television in a London hotel room. But taking that quiet day helped protect the parts of the trip that really mattered to me.

That's a distinction I think we sometimes miss when we're planning. Rest isn't competing with your vacation. Rest can protect your vacation.

If I were planning that UK trip again knowing what I know now, I would look at the days surrounding the biggest experiences and deliberately consider what I could remove if my energy started dropping.

That's very different from waiting until you're completely exhausted and then deciding what you're willing to sacrifice.

Make some of those decisions while you're still home, rested and thinking clearly.

Give Yourself a Plan A, Plan B and Plan C

One of the most useful things you can do when your energy changes from day to day is stop making one plan for each vacation day. Below is Vacation Plan Checklist with a Plan A, B & C to help you better plan your next trip!

Make three.

Plan A is the good-energy day.

This is the day when you can do the major attraction, walking tour, excursion or other activity you've been looking forward to.

Plan B is the lower-energy day.

Maybe you still go out, but you take a taxi instead of walking. You visit one attraction instead of three. You take the sightseeing bus and stay on it longer. You have lunch somewhere close to the hotel. You sit in a café and people-watch instead of crossing the city.

And don't underestimate Plan B. Some of my favorite travel moments haven't necessarily been the big attractions. Sometimes sitting somewhere with a drink and watching a city go by lets you experience a place in a completely different way.

Plan C is the recovery day.

That's the robe-and-room-service plan.

Your Plan C might be completely different from mine. Maybe you sit beside the hotel pool. Maybe you find a quiet park near your accommodation. Maybe you order food, watch movies and sleep. Maybe you sit on your balcony with a book. Maybe your only outing is walking downstairs for coffee.

And if your Plan C really is pajamas, food delivery and television, don't turn it into a punishment. Make it comfortable. You're still on vacation.

The point isn't what you do.

The point is that Plan C exists before you desperately need it.

Plan for your high-energy, low-energy and recovery days before you leave home, so you don't have to figure everything out when you're already exhausted.»

Pay Attention Before Your Body Has to Yell

There is a difference between being tired from a fun day and feeling your body begin to shut down.

People who live with chronic illness often become very good at pushing through. Sometimes we've had no choice. We work, take care of families, attend appointments, run households and deal with responsibilities whether we feel good or not.

Unfortunately, that same skill can follow us on vacation.

We keep going because we've paid for the trip. We keep going because other people are with us. We keep going because we may never be in this city again. We keep going because we don't want our illness to "win."

I've had to change the way I think about that. Stopping isn't letting my illness win. If stopping for an afternoon means I can get back out there tomorrow, that's not defeat. That's strategy.

There is nothing particularly heroic about pushing until your body makes the decision for you.

Learning your early warning signs matters. Maybe you become foggy. Maybe your pain starts climbing. Maybe you become unusually irritable or emotional. Maybe your legs start feeling heavy. Maybe you stop enjoying what you're doing and find yourself simply trying to get through it.

That last one is a big clue for me. There is a point where you're no longer experiencing the place—you are just completing the activity because it's on the itinerary.

Those signals aren't an inconvenience to overcome.

They're information.

The earlier you respond to them, the more choices you usually have.

The Money You Spent Is Not a Reason to Hurt Yourself

This is a difficult one.

Travel costs money, and when money is tight, missing something you've paid for can feel awful.

You might have spent $80 on the ticket. Maybe the tour is nonrefundable. Maybe you've saved for this vacation for two years. That can create enormous pressure to go through with something even when your body is telling you otherwise.

I understand that feeling because I don't like wasting money either. When you've worked and saved for a trip, walking away from something you've already paid for can feel like throwing money out the window.

But the money has already been spent.

Making yourself miserable doesn't bring it back.

And sometimes protecting the rest of a $2,000, $3,000 or $5,000 trip means accepting that you may lose the price of one activity.

I've come to look at it this way: losing the cost of one tour hurts. Losing the next four days because I pushed myself through that tour hurts a lot more.

This is also why I increasingly like flexible reservations when they're reasonably priced. Free cancellation, refundable fares and tickets that can be changed may cost a little more upfront, but flexibility has real value when you don't know how you're going to feel three months from now—or even tomorrow morning.

For someone with unpredictable health, flexibility isn't necessarily an upgrade.

Sometimes it's part of the accessibility budget.

Read my article, The Spoonie Energy Budget: Why Your Energy Is More Valuable Than Your Money When You Travel will help you create a spoonie energy budget and make your travel a success!

Put Convenience in Your Budget

Those of us trying to travel affordably often concentrate on cutting every possible expense.

Walk instead of taking a taxi. Choose the cheapest flight even if it has a terrible departure time. Stay farther outside the city because the hotel costs less. Carry everything yourself. Take three buses instead of paying for a direct ride.

Sometimes those are excellent ways to save.

Sometimes they cost more energy than they're worth.

I've learned that I have to look at more than the dollar price of something. There's also an energy price. Saving $15 doesn't necessarily help me if getting that savings requires dragging my luggage through two train stations, changing buses and arriving completely wiped out.

Before your trip, consider setting aside a small energy emergency fund.

This isn't necessarily for an actual emergency. It's money you're allowed to spend when paying for convenience helps protect your body.

Maybe it's a taxi back to the hotel.

Maybe it's food delivery because you can't face finding a restaurant.

Maybe it's airport assistance, luggage storage, a seat upgrade, a closer hotel or an extra night somewhere so you don't have to rush.

You don't have to use the money.

But knowing it's there can keep you from making every decision based solely on the cheapest possible option.

Sometimes the cheapest option in dollars is incredibly expensive in spoons.

Your Travel Companions Need to Understand the Plan

If you're traveling with someone else, have this conversation before the trip.

Tell them there may be times when you need to stop.

More importantly, give them permission to keep going.

This is important because guilt can make us do some pretty ridiculous things. You don't want to be limping through a museum you're no longer enjoying because you're convinced everyone else's vacation depends on you being there.

You shouldn't have to drag yourself through an activity because you feel guilty about ruining someone else's vacation, and your travel companion shouldn't necessarily have to spend every recovery day sitting in the hotel room with you.

You can separate.

They can visit the museum while you sleep. They can go on the walking tour while you spend the morning at a café. You can meet later for dinner if you're feeling better.

Traveling together doesn't require spending every minute together.

Having this conversation at home is much easier than having it when you're exhausted, disappointed and feeling guilty.

If You're Traveling Alone, Create Your Own Safety Net

Solo travel gives you tremendous freedom when your energy is unpredictable because nobody is waiting for you to get moving.

There is something wonderful about waking up, realizing you need another hour in bed and knowing you don't owe anyone an explanation.

But it also means you need to think ahead.

Keep the hotel address somewhere easy to access. Know how you're getting back if you suddenly run out of energy. Keep important medications and essentials with you. Have a person at home who knows your general itinerary. Know what you'll do if a low-energy day becomes something more serious.

Preparation doesn't mean sitting in your hotel room imagining everything that could go wrong.

For me, preparation does the opposite. Once I know I have a backup plan, I can stop worrying about it and get on with enjoying myself.

You don't need to travel frightened.

You need to travel prepared.

There's a big difference.

Stop Calling Rest a Wasted Vacation Day

This may be the hardest mindset change of all.

If I told you that during my trip to London I lost an entire day because I stayed in bed watching Game of Thrones, it would sound disappointing.

But that's not how I remember it.

I remember feeling safe, comfortable and incredibly relieved that I didn't have to go anywhere.

I remember room service.

I remember that robe.

And I remember waking up afterward with enough energy to continue the adventure.

That day was part of my vacation too.

We have a strange idea that vacation only counts when we're actively doing something. We photograph the monuments, meals, beaches and museums. Nobody makes a vacation photo album featuring the three-hour nap.

Maybe we should.

Because when you live with chronic illness, sometimes the nap is what makes the museum possible.

And I've stopped measuring the success of my vacations by how many things I managed to check off a list. I'd rather come home having genuinely enjoyed ten things than having dragged myself through twenty.

Rest isn't what happens when your vacation fails.

Sometimes rest is part of the itinerary.

Don't Try to Make Up for a Low-Energy Day

There's another trap that can happen after you rest.

You wake up feeling better and immediately try to catch up on everything you missed.

Now yesterday's three activities get added to today's three activities.

And you're right back where you started.

I understand the temptation. There's that little voice again saying, But I'm here. I may never come back. I have to see it.

No, you don't.

You get to see what you can see.

You get to enjoy what you can enjoy.

And you get to leave some things undone.

If something important was missed, see whether you can rearrange the itinerary. But some things may simply have to go.

That can be disappointing.

Let it be disappointing without turning it into a catastrophe.

There will always be another restaurant you didn't try, another street you didn't walk down and another attraction you didn't see. That is true even for perfectly healthy travelers.

A successful vacation isn't one where you completed every item on the list.

It's one where you came home glad you went.

Ask a Different Question Every Morning

Instead of waking up and immediately thinking, "What's on the itinerary?", try asking:

"What kind of day can my body handle today?"

Then look at the itinerary.

I like this question because it puts things in the right order. Your itinerary doesn't get to tell your body how it has to feel that day. You find out how you're doing, and then you decide what makes sense.

Some mornings you'll get your Plan A.

Some mornings will be Plan B.

And every once in a while, your body is going to vote very enthusiastically for Plan C.

That doesn't mean you've failed at traveling with chronic illness.

It means you've learned how to travel with the body you actually have instead of constantly demanding the body you wish you had.

Your Body Doesn't Have to Be Predictable for You to Travel

There is no way I could have known exactly how I would feel every day of that long overseas trip.

That's the point.

I couldn't control my energy. I couldn't guarantee that my chronic illness would behave. And I couldn't predict exactly when my body would need me to stop.

What I could control was what I did when that moment arrived.

I could fight my body, resent it and push until it forced me to stop.

Or I could listen.

That day in London, thankfully, I listened.

I put on my pajamas and robe, ordered room service, watched Game of Thrones and let London carry on without me for a day.

And you know what?

London managed just fine without me.

It was still there the next morning.

So was my vacation.

I went on to see more of the city. I went to Paris. I finished an incredible first overseas adventure.

And all these years later, I don't regret that day off.

I'm grateful I was smart enough to take it.

If your energy is unpredictable, don't wait until your body becomes predictable before you travel. You may be waiting a very long time.

Instead, build a trip that has room for the unexpected version of you.

Plan the big days.

Protect the experiences that matter.

Leave some blank spaces.

Have a Plan B.

Have a Plan C.

And if you end up spending one beautiful vacation day in a hotel robe eating room service and watching television?

Let it be part of the trip.

Because the goal was never to prove how much you could do.

The goal was to go.

Get there your way.

Use My Plan A, Plan B & Plan C for Vacation Days sheet will help you plan for the energy you have, not the energy you hoped for. Left-click to download for your use then click so the link will take you to JOIN THE TRIBE to be apart of the Single, Sick & Broke Traveler community.

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