Biological age: how young is my body?
At 40, life is basically over. I was convinced of that. That was earlier. And it's been quite a while now. I'm 41, still alive and trying to stay as long as possible and look reasonably good. That's why I lie now in a tight, booming rattling tube, my body is constantly in front of itself packed in a kind of armor, in a fear-sweaty hand, I hold the alarm button, as solid and shaky as a puberty the hand of his girl on the first date.
For someone who prefers to sit on the edge in the cinema, a complete examination with magnetic resonance imaging is a serious challenge. I would not be surprised if I had aged years in these 60 claustrophobic minutes.
"Your body has not aged yet. They have the values of a 19-year-old, "says the man in white, and I am grateful to stop his hand Prof. Christoph M. Bamberger is the director of the Medical Prevention Center in Hamburg, he calls anti-aging Pope not himself, but everyone else calls him that. "For 2750 euros you get from him and his team of physicians, an all-around body check" from the Locke to the sock, "as Bamberger says.
80 percent of its customers have a significant risk. They have to change their lifestyle in order to stay healthy or to become healthy again. At ten percent, Bamberger finds something worrying about what needs immediate attention or treatment. And at ten percent, he finds nothing.
I am one of those - and that is gratifying, especially as even my brave liver has not taken it amiss that I like to consume wine in quantities well above the WHO recommended maximum.
The ultrasound expert had plunged with enthusiasm on my innards and exulted: "Wonderful, they are very good to sound.The perfect body! With thick people that's not good!" I was just thinking about asking him for a private connection appointment when he added, "Not so thin, though."
I leave the prevention center as the personified norm. I am neither too fat nor too thin. My body mass index is normal at 22.3, my body fat percentage is also 32.0. Bone quality, ECG, hormones, blood levels: all right. My intestinal artery - I have an intestinal artery? - My pancreas looks boring, my liver makes noises during the ultrasound, reminding me of the deep, bubbling-distorted voices of kidnappers in American thrillers, and on exercise ECG I'm struggling inadequately clothed and plastered with electrodes on forever immovable wheel and hope very much that nobody but the nurse will come in.
On the magnetic resonance images, I look like a person from the bio-book of the upper school. Professor Bamberger speaks contentedly of a "uniform fold relief" and quotes a funny colleague: "Your brain is virtually unused!"
And then the doctor of my confidence releases me back to life. And before falling asleep, I think of my pretty kidneys and my brave heart. The "juvenile aspect" of my neck vessels, my fully ventilated lungs, the tender gall bladder - and I have the reassuring feeling of being among friends. And the certainty that I'm healthy and resilient enough to now too running after my eternal youth at a brisk pace, Why? Because I want to know what's possible because I'm superficially interested in burning my surface, and because wobbly upper arms are a sign of lack of discipline, as well as a limp brain. Do not you have to live with it, right?
"Your body gives you no excuses not to do anything," says a stern voice in my aching back. I could cry. These miserable dumbbells are so monstrously heavy'My arms are so terribly painful, and I think it absolutely impossible for me to survive the last three out of every 15 repetitions.
"You have to go beyond your limits!", the voice says," but I'm not the type! ", I gasp grumpily." Then you're just the guy. Three more repetitions! "The voice that knows no mercy, belongs to my flesh, which is made of flesh, that is Marco Santoro, is a personal trainer and ruines my life for a friendship price of 80 euros the hour plus VAT.
I thought I was a sporty person so far. One hour of endurance training three times a week - no problem for an athlete like me.The fact that I was often overtaken by obese dachshunds and walking seniors in my rounds around the Hamburger Alster had hardly bothered me. Fat burning works most effectively in the aerobic area, without effort, without sweat, I had comforted myself. This concept of low-power sports was very accommodating to my lethargic mind and my resistance-avoidance character.
