September 2009’s issue of Prevention
You’re the life of the party. Life of the party? Hardly. Funny and approachable? Usually. Socially awkward? Sometimes. A hermit? Once in awhile.
You run for 40 minutes a day. Sort of. Some days I run for an hour. Some days I run for 30 minutes. Some days I don’t run at all, except to fetch my Lean Cuisine out of the microwave and maybe to grab a beer. It did specify “for a total of about 5 hours per week.” I’d say I usually get close to that, so I’ll put myself down for a YES.
You like raspberries in your oatmeal. Sure, if I ate oatmeal, I might throw some raspberries in there. Do you think it counts if I throw some Crunch Berries into my Cheerios? Cheerios could pass for oatmeal, right?. If not, then I’d have to go with NO.
You feel 13 years younger than you are. I turned 25 this year. 13 years younger would make me 12, so on most days, YES! Well… wait… do they mean mentally or physically? Hmm, mentally, I’m an immature 12 most days. Physically, there are days I psych myself into thinking I’m actually 64. This one is still out for the jury.
You embrace techie trends. I’ve got my iPhone attached to my hip, and I can hardly get out of my computer chair because it’s been molded to my body, so I would go with a YES. Finally, a solid ‘yes.’
You started menopause after age 52. Not applicable for obvious reasons.
You make every calorie count. Their definition of ‘making every calorie count’ is limiting daily caloric intake to 1,400 to 2,000. I don’t count calories, so I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I do know that by my definition, I make every calorie count. I shovel my favorite foods into my mouth without ever looking back, and I rarely, if ever, feel bad about doing it.
You had a baby later in life. Again, not applicable. But wait… having a baby later in life is a sign you’ll live to 100?!? This is the perfect comeback for those friends and relatives who drill me like I’m on the witness stand asking me when I’m going to have a kid.
Your pulse beats 15 times in 15 seconds. Is this when I’m sober or slightly inebriated? Because there’s a huge difference between the two, from about 65 to 500. I’m guessing they’re referring to the first, so I’m not too far off. I’ll give this one a SORT OF.
You don’t snore. I don’t snore, but I have been told I make weird squeaking noises in my sleep. Apparently at night, I have delusions of becoming a baby chick. Snoring is a NO though.
You have a (relatively) flat belly after menopause. I’ll let you know when I get to that stage. And relative compared to whom? For now, I suppose I have a relatively flat belly, but according to all those around me (ironically they’re all older than me), “it’ll catch up to me.”
You get your blood tested for vitamin D levels. I can’t say I’ve ever asked my doctor to specifically do this. Whenever I get motivated enough to forgo my midnight snack to fast and get poked by needles in the morning, I get a blood test. I’ve been tested for every other medical malady (thanks to being a self diagnosed neurotic hypochondriac) but never vitamin D. For now, this one’s a NO.
So does living to 100 look promising for me? Hard to say and I’m not competely convinced that I want to know. I live a fairly healthy lifestyle most days. On the days that I goof up, I relish it and try a little harder the next. There’s no use in kicking myself for skipping the gym one day or consuming more calories than I should every now and then. I’d like to think that the ultimate surprising sign you’ll live to 100 is living a full, rich life that strives for moderation but without punishment for having joy in life’s pleasures. And regardless of whether you live to be 100 or not, you’ll have truly experienced an exquisite life by simply being human.
