Chapter 1: The Urge to Extend Life

As I approach a certain age, the looming presence of chronic illnesses, dementia, and various types of cancer feels increasingly imminent. Occasionally, a vague but growing urgency nudges me to take preventive measures against these potential health crises.

In this context, I recently watched "Limitless," a documentary series featuring a "longevity expert" who earnestly guides Chris Hemsworth on practices like cold baths and fasting—while also providing ample opportunity for Hemsworth to flaunt his physique (kudos to Dr. Peter Attia, MD). Captivated by Thor's charming smile and impressive muscles, I promptly purchased Dr. Attia's book titled "Outlive."

However, I soon found myself losing interest as the multitude of tests and lifestyle adjustments necessary for maintaining health while aging began to overwhelm me. I grew fatigued before reaching the more extreme recommendations, which I assumed were on the horizon.

While that might seem a bit harsh, I do acknowledge that much of Dr. Attia's advice—emphasizing the importance of exercise, nutrition, and diabetes prevention—aligns with common sense. His insights are presented clearly, supplemented with personal stories, making them easy to digest. I find little to dispute here (at least not too much).

His skeptical take on prevalent nutrition advice is also refreshing. For example, you might recall the study that stirred alarm over the cancer risks associated with red and processed meat. Dr. Attia reassures us that the evidence supporting this claim is weak, rendering it almost nonsensical: the effect size is too minor to draw any solid conclusions.

(Break out the chorizo and bacon!)

The same can be said for most nutrition-related studies. Since we can't control every aspect of what people consume for the sake of a study, these analyses often rely on self-reported data, which can be notoriously unreliable. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the potential pitfalls in asking someone to accurately recall their diet over the past week or month.

Thus, aside from basic nutritional advice—like eating a variety of foods—the only reliable claims Dr. Attia makes are that olive oil and walnuts are beneficial, while excessive alcohol and calories are detrimental.

It's reassuring to have my skepticism affirmed.

Ultimately, aside from the exhaustive testing and some of his more questionable suggestions—such as taking rapamycin and other drugs that might prolong life—I largely agree with Dr. Attia. Each part of his proposed regimen for enhancing one's "healthspan" seems to be backed by credible evidence.

If it weren't for the staggering fee of $150,000 per year he reportedly charges his patients (according to Google), we might have become good friends. But I suppose he needs to fund his car racing passion somehow.

But there's always a "but," isn't there?

Shortly after I finished "Outlive," I stumbled upon a book by one of my long-time favorite authors, Barbara Ehrenreich, who offers a markedly different viewpoint on the "healthy longevity" narrative. Her insights doused any enthusiasm I had mustered for extreme measures like continuous glucose monitoring or carrying heavy backpacks on hikes (which, by the way, Dr. Attia seems to endorse).

In her book "Natural Causes," Ehrenreich reflects on her realization of being "old enough to die." Unlike most of her contemporaries, she found this acknowledgment liberating. She resolved not to subject herself to further suffering or frustration in pursuit of a longer life.

Consequently, she stopped attending routine tests that older adults often undergo. No more regular pap smears, mammograms, or annual check-ups—no more invasive procedures under the guise of "preventive care," which often turn out to be mere rituals of humiliation, statistically unlikely to change much.

No more self-denial. Death awaits everyone, whether they meticulously optimize their diets and exercise regimens or simply take it easy on days when motivation wanes (raises hand sheepishly). The battle against aging isn't truly about extending life or even enhancing one's "healthspan," as Dr. Attia suggests.

According to Ehrenreich, it's more about a desperate struggle for self-control, where "health" becomes a proxy for "virtue." This virtue stems from our attempts to dominate our unruly bodies, often compensating for transgressions with extreme measures like fasting, detoxes, or meticulously sequenced juice diets.

Flogging and hair shirts indeed.

With Ehrenreich's compelling critique providing a needed reality check, I recognized my discomfort with Dr. Attia's approach: it’s all too easy to fixate on the notion that becoming one of those rare centenarians—still playing tennis post-congratulations from the monarch (or King, in current times)—isn't just a matter of luck.

To spend years in self-denial—fasting, abstaining from sweets and alcohol, enduring hours of strength training and those grueling HIIT workouts each week, and then berating oneself when efforts falter—while believing all this virtue will yield rewards seems a bit misguided.

Only to be blindsided by a cancer diagnosis, Alzheimer's, or heart failure anyway. As Ehrenreich reminds us, even health enthusiasts like Steve Jobs—dedicated to running and meditation—passed away at 56. The author of "The Complete Book of Running" died at 52, and the "Younger Next Year" guru only reached 58.

Our bodies are not machines designed for optimization. Our cells don’t function in harmony like citizens in a benign dictatorship; diseases are not merely signs of a temporary imbalance that can be corrected.

Ehrenreich suggests viewing "You" as a precarious alliance: a fleeting moment where the different interests of your body’s cells come together. At any moment, this coalition can crumble as cells act independently—selfish cancer cells refuse to perish for the greater good, or rogue immune cells turn against their fellows.

In this light, "You" become a project that is perpetually contingent, always teetering on the edge of collapse, with the risk of falling increasing with time. The illusion of control over our fate becomes increasingly apparent.

Yet, Ehrenreich encourages us not to harbor bitterness or resentment. She contends that death isn't "a tragic interruption of your life"—rather, it's life itself that serves as the interruption: "an interruption of an eternity of personal nonexistence," a fleeting chance to engage with the vibrant, ever-surprising world around us.

How much of that fleeting opportunity am I willing to sacrifice in the pursuit of extending my moments?

I lack a definitive answer.

And just like that, I find myself back with Chris Hemsworth.

The optimistic narrative of "Limitless"—that we shape our destinies concerning mortality and illness—takes a sharp turn in the concluding episode, where he confronts the reality that all his endeavors may ultimately be in vain. In the end, no amount of exercise, cold baths, or rigorous testing can avert the inevitable: unlike his divine counterpart, he, too, will face death.

Before that day arrives, his body will fail him, leaving him reliant on others.

This episode resonated with me the most—not just because you haven't truly lived until witnessing Thor donned in an "aging suit," struggling to keep his balance while enthusiastically grooving to "I like to move it, move it" alongside retirement-home residents, and then losing at ping pong.

He sheds the suit when he consults a death doula, a professional who guides individuals toward life’s end. He inquires about the most significant lesson she has learned from those at the close of their lives.

"Being with someone as they have just stopped breathing," she replies, "to feel the incredible stillness in the room after life has departed is simultaneously simple and profound. Life hangs by a single breath. One moment it exists, and the next, it’s gone."

When it vanishes, it reminds me that I still possess the ability to breathe, live, engage, love, laugh, and rejoice—to embrace life.

What a visceral illustration of Ehrenreich's argument—here we are, just a breath away from oblivion, making ephemeral appearances in this enigmatic universe.

Blink, and you might miss it.

And yet… I must confess, while all of this sounds reasonable, there's an air of insincerity in my reiteration of these optimistic proclamations to "live every moment," as if I’m signaling virtue. Isn’t it just another way to convey that I’ll endeavor to make peace with my decline and "live each day to the fullest?" (the actual motto of Thor's fictitious retirement home) Especially knowing, deep down, that if a pill promising "healthy longevity" were offered, I wouldn't hesitate to take it.

In all honesty, I should also admit I would gladly try all of Dr. Attia's recommendations—glucose monitoring, HIIT workouts, and all—if I thought I could manage it long-term. Even though I remain skeptical about its effectiveness, having some semblance of control over my fate feels preferable to having none.

Perhaps that’s a key reason I appreciated Ehrenreich's deconstruction of the "healthy longevity" narrative. Reading her work validated my choice not to exert myself. It’s not that I can’t do it; I can now convince myself that it’s simply not worth the effort.

I don’t believe I’ve reached the acceptance stage that Ehrenreich describes. I’m uncertain if I ever will be "old enough to die."

Every time I think I’ve come to terms with my inevitable decline, another breakthrough discovery emerges, promising to solve aging's riddles and extend my healthy years.

Is it too much to hope for a miraculous immortality pill?

The Happy Hag is a writer, philosopher, and traveler. When she isn’t immersed in her thesis, she can be found on Medium, penning her thoughts on whatever captures her attention on any given day. She has also launched a Facebook page to share her new life in Sweden.

You can also support her writing here:

Chapter 2: Reassessing the Pursuit of Longevity

The first video explores the insights from Peter Attia's book "Outlive," discussing its merits and potential drawbacks in the context of longevity and health.

The second video reviews "Outlive," delving into the science and philosophy of longevity and how it impacts our lives and choices.