I May Have Hit Max Wellness.

Send Help. Or More Fish Oil.

Confession. I finished the last straw of my Chollagen smoothie this morning (while stretching my calves on the yoga block I’d strategically placed in my kitchen) and, like any self-respecting Type A wellness enthusiast with a weighted training vest and an iHerb.com loyalty card, thought: “I might be done. I might have maxed out wellness.”

And listen, you know I love a habit stack. I practically live inside one. If I returned to University, I could write a thesis titled ‘Mitochondria and Me: How Cold Plunging, Omega 3s, and Collagen Saved My 40s’. But lately, I’ve started to wonder if I’ve crossed the line from optimistically ‘proactive’ into ‘possibly Bryan Johnson but with better shoes’.

Let me walk you through it. You tell me what you think:

I drink 2-3 litres of water a day. Not casually though- each litre is laced with either electrolytes, a shot of creatine (brain/muscle power because… bicep curls), and the vaguely embarrassing sense that I’m now the sort of person who knows what their cellular ATP levels might be doing at any given moment (just maybe not while I’m doing my daily 3 minute plank).

I’ve given up coffee, and even carbonated beverages - on the advice of my acupuncturist- a sentence that the younger me (Aperol Spritz in one hand, cynicism in the other) would have openly mocked. But I now willingly submit to tiny needles and cortisol-reducing lifestyle advice from someone who wears Birkenstocks instead of FitFlop (so really, can you trust her at all? TBD. )

Supplements? Oh, honey.

I take fish oils (omega-3s, memory, heart, mood, etc.). Collagen powder (skin, joints, hope). Hair supplements (mine is fine, and I’d like to keep as much of it as possible thanks). A daily multivitamin, greens powder, YouthBomb elasticity supplements (they’re a jawline changer), and possibly whatever else is trending in a podcast hosted by someone from Stanford with unnaturally white teeth. (Ironic, no?)

I lift heavy weights- because Dr. Stacy Sims said we should- and walk at least 8,000 steps five times a week, in a weighted vest, for effect. I’m attempting to get to sleep before 11pm, which feels both virtuous and mildly Victorian. My hip flexors have their own yoga class. My footwear (always FitFlop) is ergonomically optimized. I’m basically an iPhone accessory at this point.

But the real tipping point? It came on Tuesday.

In the pouring London rain, I threw back a couple of Apple Cider Vinegar gummies and high-tailed it down Kensington Church Street to a spa room in a basement of a hair salon to get a B12 shot (my first) and my first dose of some Romanian stuff that a friend has been raving about for years. (She looks fantastic, is in incredible shape, has thick wavy hair that grows like a weed, the sharpest mind I’ve come across- and frankly that’s all the due diligence I needed. ) I got it jabbed straight into my glutes (same glutes which had recently been lymphatically drained by a woman named Petra who told me, without blinking, that my thighs were “holding emotional weight.”) Of course they were. Whose aren’t?

It’s possible I’ve gone too far.

Because here’s the thing—I’m not unhappy. I actually feel great. More energy, better sleep, glowy-ish skin. But also: when you start cold plunging in ice baths instead of having a shot of coffee and planning your Romanian peptide butt injections around the lunar cycle- well, you do start to wonder.

Where’s the line between investing in your health and auditioning to be the next Marvel character who regenerates in a cryo tank?

Anyway. That’s where I’m at. Maxed-out wellness. One stem-cell smoothie away from full-blown body-tech bro.

Let me know if you see me on the street muttering about NMN levels (so much more bioavailable than NAD+, obvs.) . Or if you want the number of the Romanian energy shot lady 😂

PS. The lymphatic drainage? Highly recommend. Petra may have judged my emotional thighs but I think it’s helping.