A Gentle, Free-Range Approach to Healthy Ageing

Introduction

I’ve always thought of myself as something of a free ranger when it comes to health. I don’t sit comfortably in camps, tribes, or trends. I prefer to observe, test ideas against real life, and make up my own mind. That instinct has only strengthened with age.

Free-range health, to me, means thinking for yourself. It means resisting fads, questioning authority when it deserves to be questioned, and listening closely to your own body. It’s about independence, not rebellion. Curiosity, not conformity.

That outlook has shaped how I’ve lived, trained, eaten, and aged.

After seven decades of living and more than fifty years working in health, I’ve learned this: the body thrives when it’s supported, not beaten into submission.

Now that I’m well into my 70s, I can say with confidence that I’m doing extremely well in terms of health, fitness, and performance. My joints work well. My muscles work well. I’m preparing to contest another MTB Masters World Championships, a competition I’ve been fortunate to dominate for much of the past decade. More importantly, I’m essentially free of disease and fully engaged in life.

That didn’t happen by accident. And it certainly didn’t happen by beating my body into submission.

I’ve also spent more than 50 years working with people to help them maintain and improve their health, regardless of age, gender, ethnicity, or underlying health challenges. That kind of time gives you more than technical knowledge. It gives you perspective. You begin to see what endures, and what quietly breaks people down.

The Problem With the Hammer Approach

There’s a strong tendency today to treat health as something to be conquered. Fix it. Override it. Dominate it.

Modern medicine has its place. If you have a serious infection, a strong antibiotic can be exactly the right tool. That’s a time for a decisive, targeted hit.

But nutrition doesn’t work that way.

Vitamin C is not an antibiotic. Magnesium is not a drug. Calcium and vitamin D are not emergency interventions. They are nutrients. They are meant to nourish, support, and sustain the body over time.

One of the biggest mistakes I see is using nutrition like a pharmaceutical weapon. Massive doses. Short-term thinking. The belief that if a little is good, more must be better.

Often, it isn’t.

The body responds best to respect, not force.

Think Hydroponic, Not Tsunami

A more useful way to think about nutrition is not as a flood, but as a steady drip.

In hydroponic growing, plants thrive because they receive exactly what they need, consistently, without being overwhelmed. Drip, drip, drip. The roots are supported, not drowned.

The human body works much the same way.

Rather than swamping your system with isolated nutrients, the goal should be to provide what the body genuinely needs, gently and regularly. This supports the body’s own intelligence instead of trying to overpower it.

Overwhelming the system creates stress. Supporting it creates resilience.

God’s Script and the Wisdom of Humility

This is where my thinking about nutrition connects to what I think of as God’s script. Our DNA is a living set of instructions, written with extraordinary care and intelligence, refined over countless generations, and handed to us in trust. It is something to be honoured and held in awe, not feared.

When we use nutrition as a blunt instrument, trying to force outcomes, we forget that the body already knows what it’s doing. A gentle, steady supply of nutrients respects that script. It supports the systems that protect, repair, and faithfully copy our DNA day after day.

I also believe there is real folly in thinking we can play God with that script. Attempts to manipulate life at its most fundamental level, to interfere directly with the body’s messaging systems through artificial means, reveal a lack of humility. Wisdom suggests restraint. Our role is not to rewrite the script, but to care for it, protect it, and pass it on stronger than when we received it, preserving the deep biological story that has flowed unbroken from the very beginning of life as we know it.

Nutrition, used wisely, becomes an act of stewardship.

Why I’m Wary of Health Hacking

This same philosophy explains my discomfort with today’s fascination with health hacking, biohacking, and supplement stacking. Endless tinkering. Constant manipulation. The idea that health is something to be engineered rather than cultivated.

I don’t believe health works that way.

This is simply another version of the hammer approach. A force-driven, controlling mindset applied where it doesn’t belong. Health is not software. Life is not a machine to be endlessly optimised.

This is also why I’m cautious about turning health influencers and anti-ageing gurus into modern-day oracles. Intelligence, credentials, and confidence are not the same as wisdom. When prominent voices in the optimisation space show poor judgement, obvious self-interest, or values that don’t sit comfortably with care for others, it gives me pause.

If you’ve been following the recent release of Epstein-related files, which have lit up the internet, it’s hard not to question some of the figures we’ve been encouraged to admire and trust. Health advice does not exist in a moral or human vacuum. How someone lives, what they value, the discernment they show, and the company they keep all matter. At some point, we owe it to ourselves to ask plainly: are we listening to people who understand stewardship of life, or to those obsessed with control, status, and self?

Lessons From My Own Body

One of the clearest lessons I learned about being gentle with the body came early.

I’ve run around 13 marathons and achieved a personal best of 2 hours 34 minutes, which was a solid performance. But I ran my last marathon at 29 years of age. Before I was 30, I made a deliberate decision to step away from that kind of punishing endurance exercise and place my emphasis on less destructive, more sustainable forms of movement.

I do not regret that decision for a moment.

In fact, I’m deeply grateful that I made it. That choice preserved my joints, kept my enthusiasm for movement alive, and allowed me to stay competitive and capable decades later. Less punishment. More longevity.

Ageing Is Not a War

I’ve never believed that ageing is something to fight. When we frame ageing as an enemy, we inevitably turn our bodies into battlegrounds.

I see ageing as a relationship.

Your body is changing, yes, but it’s also communicating. It’s asking for care, patience, and respect. When you respond in kind, the body often responds with generosity.

This is where the gentle approach shows its real strength.

The Quiet Power of Care

True health, especially as we age, comes from a nurturing mindset. Not weak. Not passive. But intelligent, respectful, and sustainable.

Nature works this way. Growth happens quietly. Healing unfolds in its own time. Nothing is rushed. Nothing is forced.

When you eat well most of the time, move your body in ways that feel good, sleep enough, manage stress, and provide the nutrients your body genuinely needs, strength is maintained. Recovery improves. Joy returns to movement.

A Final Thought

If I had to distil everything I’ve learned into one idea, it would be this: health is not built with a hammer.

It’s built with care.

A free-range, gentle approach doesn’t mean doing nothing. It means doing the right things, consistently, without violence toward the body. That approach has served me well, and I’ve seen it serve countless others.

Your body has carried you a long way. Honour the script you were given. Treat it kindly. And it may surprise you with how much further it can still take you.