Until science comes up with a solution, we will keep getting older. And with age comes health issues—the inevitable consequence of enzymes drying up, tendons tightening, and muscles loosening.

Like many people my age, I’m interested in ‘wellness’ as a concept. I mean, I can hit old age in the best possible shape; it will make my twilight years a lot more pleasant.

Lately, I’ve read a number of articles in reputable places (too reputable to mention or list here) and been disturbed to realise how frequently they are actually sales pitches for modern-day ‘snake oil’. Fortunately, these articles all seem to follow a similar template and are, therefore, easy to identify.

The template for selling dodgy health products:

1. Instill concern in the mind of the reader by quoting statistics that demonstrate their personal health is at risk. For example, at the start of the article there is a “startling fact” such as “90% of Americans don’t get enough vitamin B12″. That means you!
2. Build credibility by quoting eminent scientists, particularly Nobel Prize winners. Everyone trusts a Laureate.
3. Offer a solution that’s unique to a single company or product.
4. Reinforce credibility by the use of metrics that sound scientific, but are actually quite meaningless. Typically something like: “Our vitamin B12 has a 27% higher metabolic conversion than our competitors”.
5. Sound like a physician and give very exact, pedantic instructions on dosing, etc. Ignoring the fact that the reader may be a 100lb teenage girl, or a 300lb 60 year old man.

Sometimes, the author will helpfully lay out the above points in an individual paragraph. But, sometimes, you must work a little to put a checkmark on all the above points. Next time you read a wellness article that seems to solve your health questions or concerns, go through this checklist.

During the past week, I binge watched two series of Everest: Beyond the limit and listened to the audiobook of ‘Into thin air’ by John Krakauer.

I highly recommended both, even if you have no interest in climbing mountains or stupid stuff like that. They are phenomenal studies in human psychology, ego, and humility in the face of failure.

I don’t have aspirations of climbing Everest. At least not in this lifetime.

I am, however, planning on going to Nepal and trekking up to Everest base camp. But keep that to yourself.

Just about everyone I know hates the idea of Westerners going to Nepal, since these tourist scum leave behind their own mountain of oxygen cylinders, Snicker wrappers, and empty Perrier bottles. Nepal tourism is, apparently, symbolic of First World abuses of the planet.

So, I’m sharing my plan to go to Nepal with you, and no one else!

I have to confess, even though I won’t come within 10,000 feet of the summit, the prospect of trekking in the Everest foothills is still quite daunting. I’m not as young as I used to be, which makes altitude sickness potentially more serious.

I’m in my mid-50s. A couple of years ago I had my cardiovascular system checked, out of interest rather than need. The test results suggested I have the heart, lungs and circulation of someone 10 to 12 years younger than my chronological age. That still means, at best I have a 40-something year old body.

That is sobering. I feel strong and fit, but a 40-something body under stress is still not as resiliant as a 20-something body!

So why do it? Why endure three weeks of squat toilets and altitude headaches? Why not go to Florida or Maui instead? Why risk pulmonary edema?

I dunno. Perhaps I’m at a fork in my road.

And as Yogi Berra famously said:

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it!”

So, a year from now I’ll pull on my hiking boots in Kathmandu and keep plodding uphill until a guide tells me to stop because it’s time to hike back down.

Until then, no Cinnabon buns for me.