Earlier this week, a Stanford University study published in the journal Nature Aging, revealed an odd thing about growing older . According to their study, which had 108 participants, humans don’t necessarily age gradually. We’re not like fine bottles of Chateauneuf du Pap in the cellar.
Instead, we’re more similar to butter with the lid temporarily left off in a steamy kitchen. One minute, we’re silky and spreadable. The next, clotted and slightly stinky.
Apparently, there are spikes, around the age of 44 and 60, when the molecules within us undergo sudden but extreme changes that contribute to our biological age. They studied 11,000 of these molecules, and 81 per cent were affected at these points of a lifespan. Among many other things, these changes can influence our immunity, ability to metabolise certain substances, like caffeine and alcohol, and cause the build-up of proteins that are related to atherosclerosis.
They also found that, if you’re hitting those ages, it becomes almost impossible to pronounce atherosclerosis. (I made that bit up). I can’t speak for 60, yet, but I certainly felt something going skewiff in my mid forties.
Turning 40 was a breeze. I’d worried about that milestone for ages but, pop, it arrived and I felt great. The heavy-duty sharpei-level wrinkles and Deputy Dawg jowls started to creep in a few years later.
Not to mention the grumps. Never sleeping well again. Joints that feel as if they’re made of those cuttlefish bones that bu.