The Sure Signs You'll Live To 100 And How To Prevent It

This just out from Prevention Magazine -- The Sure Signs That You'll Live to 100 [or die trying]

You don't snore.

An 18-year study found that people without obstructive sleep apnea, a snoring thing, were 3 times more likely to live longer than those with severe apnea. [BTW, what's the lifespan of the people who can't get any rest because they're sleeping with people who snore?]

You're the life of the party.

Outgoing people are 50 percent less likely to develop dementia. [Most outgoing people I know are shit-faced as part of their outgoing-ness. Or as we said in college, LIZARD SHEEEE-TAH. Does this mean that, by association, excess alcohol consumption increases longevity?]

You run for 40 minutes a day.

According to a doc who knows these things: "Aerobic exercise keeps the immune system young." [Your knees may feel 78, but your veins are only 25.]

You like raspberries in your oatmeal.

Add just 10 g [of fiber per day] and reduce your risk of dying from heart disease by 17 percent. [And increase your chances of hemorrhoids from all those trips to the can.]

You feel 13 years younger than you are.

According to a fancy pants researcher, "Feeling youthful is linked to better health and a longer life." [So I should try to wake up every morning and think, "I don't feel 65, I feel more like 52." When was the last time anyone wanted to feel like they were 52? ]

You embrace techie trends.

Learn to Twitter or Skype to help keep brain cells young and healthy. [No mention of the rise in blood pressure because you get so frustrated trying to learn all this crap.]

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Your Mom Had You Young.

Well, she shouldn't be TOO young. It's hard to live long and prosper when your mother is a high school sophomore.

You're a Tea Lover.

Drink it, don't smoke it.

You'd Rather Walk.

To catch a cab.

You Skip Soda [Even Diet].

Chocolate is a good substitute.

You Have Strong Legs.

You bet -- I'm half titanium.

You Eat Purple Food.

Yesterday I had orange, white, more white, red, white again, red, brown, green, but no purple.

You Were a Healthy-Weight Teen.

I would kill to be 18 again.

You Don't Like Burgers.

Yes, I do.

You've Been a College Freshman.

Apparently this means you won't be a smoker. Or at least you'll have a much lower risk of smoking.

You Like Your Friends.

If you don't like them are they still your friends?

. . .And They're Healthy.

Even better than healthy, they're rich.

You Embrace New Challenges.

Start small. Begin with getting up in the morning.

You Don't Have A Housekeeper.

Not that I haven't tried.

You're a Flourisher.

This sounds like someone who makes an entrance into the room like Loretta Young. [I know, who's Loretta Young?]

I don't know about you, but I don't want to live to be 100. I've seen those people and it isn't pretty. The problem is when you're thirty you can't imagine anything like old age ever happening to you. You expect to arrive at the century mark pretty much as is, except with a little more gray hair.

Heck who wouldn't mind being thirty for about seventy years in a row?

But sometime during re-hab after my second total hip, I began to see the tunnel at the end of the light. The dark black hole with the long, long slide into assisted living. Oh sure, some new body parts can make you feel brand new again -- but being a brand new 65 year old lacks a certain je ne sais quoi.

The good news is I have sleep apnea. I don't run anymore. I love burgers. I drive everywhere. I refuse to twitter. I like raspberries, but only on pound cake. I don't eat purple food. I really don't feel or look 13 years younger. And my mother was 27 when I was born, which was considered old by members of her generation. So I should have plenty of chances to croak before I'm 100. Phew.

Unfortunately, I drink a lot of tea. I've been a college freshman, which is an oblique way of saying I don't smoke. I like my friends, who are all in better shape than I am. I can't find a housekeeper. I don't drink much soda. I was a skinny teenager. And, all things considered, my legs are strong. None of this can bode well for leaving the planet anytime soon.

In retrospect, I'm kind of in the middle of the good stuff and bad stuff, which would mean living to 50, but that was fifteen years ago. Do the math, and it looks like I've got 35 years to go to make it to 100. A lot can happen between now and then.

I hope.