Swimsuited, my hair in a tight rubber cap, I’m sitting in a giant white egg, staring out of a porthole. I feel like I’m in a sci-fi B movie. In fact, I’m in the Bod Pod at the California Health & Longevity Institute (CHLI) in Westlake Village, one of a very new breed of medi-spas, and I’m having my fat composition assessed.
Forget pinching an inch, this machine measures the air you displace and computes the amount of pure fat you’re carrying. At 10.6 per cent, I score below the level often found in elite athletes. I feel smug. Particularly as I’m not madly active.
‘Technically, you’re in a risky zone,’ says, Shannon, the nurse at the helm of pod control. A certain amount of fat, I’m told, is essential for protecting organs and regulating hormones, a view later echoed by Michael, the ardent exercise physiologist, who says I need to bulk up a little with regular resistance training and that I have only two valid excuses to refrain from exercise: sickness and death.
Hang on a sec. Don’t spas usually encourage you to be reed-like à la Renée, especially those in Los Angeles? We are, after all, only a short limo ride from Malibu. Well, this isn’t your run-of-the-treadmill spa. Its focus is not on flat stomachs or navel-gazing, but outsmarting middle-age spread and living longer.
Attached to a Four Seasons hotel, the CHLI is the brainchild of octogenarian, self-made billionaire and owner of the Dole Food Company, David H Murdock, who is evangelical about healthy living. In fact, so keen is he on spreading the word, he’s built a television studio on site, so those who can’t afford to shell out for a stay can still benefit from the Institute’s knowledge.
Assisted by Andrew Conrad PhD, an eminent geneticist, the result is a wellness centre and Four Seasons spa that offers a selection of diagnostic and treatment options: how about a Cat scan to check for heart disease or a breakthrough test to analyse your DNA damage, rounded off with a manicure and caviar facial?
This 360°, hyper-proactive, preventative approach has all the vital signs of the next big trend for serious spa-ing (Murdock is already building another centre in Hawaii). Over in Arizona at destination spa Miraval, mind-body guru Dr Andrew Weil leads workshops on healthy ageing, while at Canyon Ranch in Massachusetts, Dr Mark Liponis, author of UltraLongevity, gives his take on the value of ensuring your immune system is neither under nor over active.
The newness of CHLI’s concept is, according to the infectiously enthusiastic medical director, Terry Schaack, not about going on hols to return healthier (he points out Baden-Baden has been doing that for years). It’s the incorporation of hardcore Western medicine (and if they sniff out a problem, while they don’t treat you, they point you in the right direction pronto) and also, he says, about the integration of lifestyle consultancy – teaching you how to cook healthily and devising customised exercise programmes. And you can either sign up for comprehensive health packages or cherry- pick from the extensive à la carte menu of services.
The atmosphere at CHLI is pretty clinical. Many of the staff are of the coiffed and court-shoed persuasion. And what I learn is very science-based. Nothing wrong with that. For instance, I’m told my resting metabolic rate is precisely 1,119 calories a day. That’s what I burn if I do nothing but sofa-sprawl in front of Oprah. Which means I can now number-crunch my activity/eating ratio to either lose, gain or maintain my weight.
In terms of predicting future health problems, my small-boned frame gives the experts cause for concern. I could be osteoporosis-prone later in life and am duly prescribed calcium and vitamin D supplements.
However, after completing a revealing LifeQuality profile questionnaire (typical question: have you ever had the perfect day, and, if so, describe three elements that made it so). I confess to my Lifestyle Consultant that my capacity to worry may well finish me off faster than brittle bones. This worries me.