This story first appeared in the Sept. 19 issue ofThe Hollywood Reportermagazine.

"I have no intention of dying,"Sumner Redstone told THR in January. Redstone, now 91, has made no secret of his longevity regime. It begins with a breakfast of goji berries, "Green Machine" smoothies and tomato juice followed by a fish dinner and a shot of vodka for its "wonderful" antioxidant properties. The mogul also says he exercises 90 minutes a day. Redstone has kept his promise so far, though he, like the rest of us, can't elude the Grim Reaper forever.

Theoretically that might change one day as society finds itself at what feels like a tipping point. From Master Cleanses to laser peels to Restylane injections, or to cite the latest craze intravenous vitamin infusions like "Myers' cocktail," Angelenos never will find themselves at a loss for quick anti-aging fixes. But merely looking younger no longer is enough. Hollywood wants to live longer and feel younger, and to that end a growing number of establishments at the cutting edge of science (and at least a few dubious alternatives) are ready to feed the new appetite for longevity. Taken to its extremes, health care's sunny future could, in the mind of "regenerative medicine" theoretician and biologist Aubrey deGrey, cure death entirely.

"It's not even a hypothesis; it's just obvious," insists de Grey, a Cambridge-educated Englishman who lives in Mountain View, Calif., where he heads the Strategies for Engineered Negligible Senescence Research Foundation. ("Senescence" is the lyrical term for the study of biological aging.) "The human body is a machine," he adds, simplifying the premise of his 2007 book, Ending Aging: The Rejuvenation Breakthroughs That Could Reverse Human Aging in Our Lifetime (St. Martin's Press). "Like any other machine, it can be subjected to preventative maintenance that will keep it going indefinitely by removing and replacing parts, just the way we do for a car." De Grey has drawn the attention of such Hollywood notables as Edward James Olmos and DJ Steve Aoki, who samples a de Grey lecture on his upcoming album Neon Future. Says Aoki of de Grey's claims, "It's not science fiction."

Such optimism has transformed anti-aging into an $88 billion industry. To learn more, this reporter ventured into the eye of the longevity storm, a journey that led me to get naked in egg-shaped pods, endure subfreezing temperatures and sprint on a treadmill until I collapsed. In short, my quest for immortality nearly killed me.

I'm encased in a plastic pod straight out of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Standing outside, a muscle-bound man repeatedly shouts "Clear!" into a walkie-talkie. Each time he does, I gulp deeply to pop my ears, which keep clogging as if I'm in an aircraft that is rapidly changing altitude. This strange device is called a Cyclic Variations in Adaptive Conditioning machine, and proponents say prolonged exposure to its altitude-simulating technology gives one a vigorous aerobic workout without moving a muscle. Top-ranked tennis pro Novak Djokovic swears by it, the Internet tells me.

I stumbled upon this pod by accident after wandering into the Beverly Hills Rejuvenation Center, one of scores of hormone-replacement therapy (HRT) clinics that have sprouted up throughout Los Angeles like cold-pressed juice bars. Situated nowhere near Beverly Hills on a wide stretch of Sepulveda Boulevard in West L.A. the clinic boasts a friendly proprietor, Dan Holtz, who greeted me. A former general contractor and lifelong bodybuilder with no medical training, Holtz now oversees a thriving HRT business. Customers have their blood analyzed by "staff doctors" and are prescribed a cocktail of "age-defying miracle hormones." Do you have suboptimal levels of testosterone, thyroid hormones, dehydroepiandrosterone (DHEA), adrenaline or pregnenolone? There's a gel/ cream/pill/syringe for that. Take a "stimulation test," and if you fail, you're cleared for human growth hormone though be prepared to spend more than $1,200 a month for injections. Much has been written about Hollywood's obsession with HGH and its reputed ability to burn body fat, promote lean muscle mass, render skin more elastic, decrease cholesterol, improve vision, restore sex drive and more. Its most notable celebrity adherents are Sylvester Stallone, nabbed in 2007 at Sydney Airport smuggling 48 vials in his bag, and Suzanne Somers, who in recent years has refashioned herself into an HRT guru. Pausing to pop a hormone pill, Holtz detailed the clinic's spectrum of age-deferring services, including a reference to sending patients "to Panama City for stem-cell infusions."

I began to wonder whether I might prefer a more white-coat approach. That brought me to The Body Well, an upscale facility in West Hollywood overseen by Dr. Mike Carragher, a lean physician who specializes in "age management medicine." For a $4,000 annual fee (excluding the cost of hormones, which average $400 a month and can hit four times that if patients take HGH), Carragher runs clients through a diagnostic gantlet that includes a physical exam, a full blood panel, a cardiovascular risk profile and a computer quiz that tests for early signs of dementia. He then tailors a plan, prescribing whichever hormones he deems necessary. Many of his clients, like 39-year-old Teen Wolf showrunner Jeff Davis, are busy entertainment executives seeking a boost to survive grueling production schedules. "I wanted not just a doctor, but I wanted to be able to live a little better and figure out how to manage stress and energy well," says Davis, who started on a low HGH dosage. "That's scary to everyone, I know, especially when you look at Sylvester Stallone and how many vials a day he probably uses. But Dr. Mike told me it's all about maintaining the right levels of hormones and stuff."

Alas, HRT likely will not help you live longer. So says UCLA medical school professor Dr. Rita Effros, president of the Gerontological Society of America. "It's dangerous to willy-nilly pump people with hormones just because the level of that hormone has gone down," she says. "Growth hormone doesn't seem to be panning out as a solution to aging. People say they feel young again, but it can do a lot of bad things too. When one hormone level goes down, others may be compensating."

That made me second-guess a prospective existence marked by invigorating daily injections and jaunts to Panama City. Maybe I needed something more clinical, where I could wear a really nice bathrobe. That brought me to the California Health & Longevity Institute in Westlake Village. This "lifestyle transformation destination" was founded by David Murdock, chairman and CEO of Dole Food Co. Like Redstone, Murdock is a 91-year-old billionaire with designs to stick around as long as possible. The magnate consumes several smoothies a day he adds banana peels for extra fiber and has devoted a chunk of his fortune to spreading the longevity gospel. Every major Hollywood studio contacts CHLI, which features an on-premises Four Seasons hotel, for "deluxe" physicals (cost: $3,650) for their executives that aim to give patients actionable information to live longer. The daylong sessions include a state-of-the-art exam, nutrition and fitness consultations, a resting metabolic rate (RMR) test and a 50-minute massage.

See original here:
How to Live Forever: The (Mad?) Science Hollywood Is Using to "Cure" Death