How Old Are You Really? This question sat atop a report that recently crossed my desk, courtesy of the California-based Buck Institute for Age Research. Buck describes itself as an independent, non-profit organization dedicated to extending our "healthspan," which it defines as the healthy years of a person's life.
It's an arresting question, since how old a person is chronologically -- in my case, 55 -- might have little to do with one's physiological age.
Like most people in mid-life, I'd like the benefits of my years of experience contained in a body half the age of the one I've got. That's dreaming in high-definition, but is it so delusional to think my body might be functionally much younger than 55? How can I know for sure? What medications, activities or therapies might keep my physiological age lower than my actual one?
Now, thanks to clues offered up by the nematode worm, which is also known as roundworm and is a ubiquitous, adaptive critter, the Buck scientists feel a big step closer to developing more accurate ways to track how each of us withstands the vagaries of time. If so-called biomarkers of human aging can be developed from studying the worms, researchers say they could create methods to evaluate anti-aging medicine without having to wait for human subjects to get old. They could tell if someone is aging more quickly than might be expected.
The researchers at Buck (why do I want to call them Buckaroos?) took genetic profiles of nematode worms and correlated those profiles with age-related behaviour and survival rates. (The worms have an average life span of just three weeks.) In the end, they were able to predict the physiological age of the nematodes seven out of 10 times, which was far better than anything that had been done before, according to the lead author of the study, Simon Melov. He says he's happily projecting science will develop a "non-subjective," accurate way to determine how old a person is in physiological terms.
In the interest of pure science then, I offer my personal biomarker list, so researchers might sweep aside the nematodes and get straight to detecting how I am aging, and what, if anything, I can do about it.
Fitness: I can walk along a forest trail briskly for up to 10 kilometres. The heart and lungs enjoy the workout, but the knees scream the next day. Orthotics, check. Walking stick, check. Chocolate, check.
Hearing: I can no longer hear someone shouting "what's for dinner?" especially when I have my iPod earbuds in. (Does music count as a biomarker of aging? My playlist tends toward the Beatles, show tunes and k.d. lang.) Otherwise, turn your damn music down!
Eyesight: I can see anything, any time, anywhere, even at night, as long as I have my glasses on, the ones with the bling on the side and the equivalent of three lenses up front.
Grip strength: I can lift, serially, one full trash can, two full blue boxes and two weeks worth of papers in blue bags. But I don't have to, as I can also get a firm grip on my offspring to push them into the garage to deal with the garbage and recycling.
Nutrition. I've been working in Ontario for three months, therefore questions about food and drink must be referred to customer service officials at Tim Horton's. If I lived to be 100, I could not get to every outlet.