I know my story is your story too.

Five years ago, I turned 50. It felt as though everything changed overnight. 
In my 20s, 30s and 40s, I charged ahead with life, first throwing myself into my career — I worked as a magazine publisher — and then, in my late 30s, meeting my husband, getting married and having children. 
Those busy years almost seemed like one long decade, during which I didn’t feel any different about how I looked or acted. 
I never stopped to think about what impact the way I was living might have down the road.

Then, one day, I woke up and… I was 50. Suddenly, I would catch myself in the mirror and notice my drying skin, crow’s feet, the way my hair looked. I felt aches and pains for the first time. I also began to gain weight. 
It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was steady and showing no signs of slowing down. Weight gain can often be a part of the aging process, especially after women go through menopause. However, I remember reading somewhere that five pounds was an acceptable amount to gain, but anything more was another term for “letting yourself go.”

I knew that if changes weren’t made — and fast — I’d be heading into my 50s at a terrible disadvantage. Wanting to stay healthy, fit, energetic and productive for the rest of my life, I was ready to change — and possibly save — my life.
 I didn’t simply want to think, “I’m 50 now, that’s it, my life is over.” I wanted to be fearless after 50. There’s been a lot written about how women cease to exist once they hit this age. 
Despite our great consumer power, post 50 women are often dismissed as invisible, and seen as neither young nor interesting enough. This is so wrong, and I was depressed thinking that this was my future.

But, there was more…

When I turned 50, I found myself asking the ‘what if’ questions: What if I get sick or have a heart attack? What if I get Alzheimer’s? What if I get cancer? Do I already have cancer without knowing it? 
I looked around and people my age were having strokes, struggling with depression, developing diabetes. 
It’s not that younger people didn’t have some of these health concerns, but that after 50 they seemed all too common. And the closer I looked, the more I realized that many of these health issues were in my control. The more I thought about it, the more questions I had. I began to wonder if there were tests I should be getting and asking what I could do to make sure that I lived a healthy life.

Like many women, I had gone a long time without doing simple things that could positively affect my health. 
Many of us are part of the so-called sandwich generation — caught between looking after our children and caring for elderly parents — and I realized life had kept me busy taking care of others, yet failing to do the right things for myself.

Sleeping enough and exercising daily had come to seem like an indulgence, even as I made sure that my family was well-fed and well-rested. 
So I embarked on a quest to discover how ordinary women could look and feel their best in their 50s and beyond. 
I soon realized that what I wanted was the best information I could find. I began to contact beauty experts and financial experts. 
I talked to the renowned hairdresser Frederic Fekkai, and to fashion designer Diane von Furstenberg. 
I tracked down women’s health specialists and exercise gurus, nutritionists and make-up experts. And, after hearing their advice, I took it.

I started going for slow runs with breaks for walking every day and learned how to do push-ups and other exercises to prevent osteoporosis. 
I went for annual health checks. I changed the way I ate and dropped the bad habits I’d slipped into. 
Where I had once spent my time dieting instead of eating, I began to pay attention to what I ate and to eat something healthy and small every couple of hours. 
I even accepted the fact that my hair, which I had spent decades straightening, was naturally wavy and looked its best that way. And I didn’t just lose the 15 lbs. I gained, I dropped an entire pants size.

Five years later, I feel fitter then I have at any time since I turned 30. 
More importantly, I found that I don’t only look and feel better, my health has improved. 
My cholesterol levels dropped and I even ran the New York City Marathon this year to celebrate my 55th birthday and raise money for a very deserving charitable organization. 
And, while turning 50 gave me a shock, now that I am 55 I am happier than ever before.

I loved the earlier decades of my life but I rushed through them. I was more insecure then and less happy about how I looked and felt. 
Like many women, I sought approval from everyone except myself. Now, when I look in the mirror, I see a woman who is brimming with confidence, enthusiasm, and energy. I am happy with who I am and with how I look — including my crow’s feet, which are a part of the story of my life.

So many of us fear aging when we should embrace it. But the greatest lesson I learned on my quest for reinvention is we need to feel comfortable in our own skin, whatever age we are. 
Whether you are 49, or 62, or 75, you need to decide that you are going to be the fittest, healthiest and best-looking 49, 62, or 75-year-old there is. 
For too long, women have been tricked into seeing 50 as the end of the road when, instead, we should be viewing it as the start of a new life, one in which we are truly comfortable with who we are. Instead of retreating from the world, we can embrace our place within it.

Turning 50 did more than save my life. It put me on the path to a new one.


At 16, I had everything to look forward to. I had expected to get three As at A-level and go on

to read history and then law at Oxford University. Then, inexplicably, I was struck down by

an ‘invisible’ illness that left me little better than a zombie.

My muscles couldn’t keep me upright for long, my memory didn’t work, my body couldn’t

heal itself, my limbs felt leaden and sore, and my brain’kept blanking out.

During the short periods when my brain did switch on, I was confused and scared because I

was aware that only a few months previously I had been out celebrating great GCSE results

with friends. And I did not know what had happened to me.

My doctor, who eventually diagnosed me with ME (chronic fatigue syndrome) didn’t seem to

offer any help and I was considered to be a hypochondriac and undeserving of sympathy,

support or care.

In the early Nineties, when I became ill, ME was known as Yuppie Flu and seen as being all

in the head. That’s a harsh way to treat a previously confident child.

I am lucky my mother was able to spend all her time helping me get up, day after day, month

after month, or I would have been bed bound. I shudder to think where I would now be.

I did eventually go to university, and gained a first-class degree and then an MA with

distinction and now I work as a writer.

But each success was tempered by the fact that every time I pushed my brain or body hard

enough to achieve something, my ME would make me crash again, with each crash taking

longer to crawl back from.

I’m now 33, having struggled through life with the illness, and often it se’ems as if public and

medical perceptions have not moved on. Over the years I have searched for treatments until,

in 2009, I discovered one that has transformed my life – a type of osteopathy called the

Perrin Technique.

The Perrin Technique involves a series of stiff massages and can take

more than two years to take effect. I was treated once a week for the first 12

weeks, followed by every two weeks for 12 weeks and so on.

It suggests a plausible cause for ME: that a virus causes a fault in the lymphatic system, the

network of glands and vessels that should remove waste toxins produced by every tissue in

the body.

The feeling of ME is similar to the pain you get after a long, hard walk. The lactic acid makes

your muscles hurt and shake, and your body is at the point of collapse. Add to this the

sensation of a severe hangover. Being poisoned by a long-term build up of toxins seems a

very likely explanation.

The Perrin Technique involves a series of stiff massages and can take more than two years

to take effect.

I was treated once a week for the first 12 weeks, followed by every two weeks for 12 weeks

and so on.

The therapist kneads the areas where the lymph nodes are – around the back, under the

arms and in the chest. It was agonising to begin with although my husband, who attended

my first session, said the therapist had been only lightly touching me.

The process causes lymphatic build-up to be drawn out of the muscles and into the defective

drainage system where the pressure forces the waste to be discharged.

Caution: The treatments are not medically proven but once Alex starts to feel pain, she goes for another

treatment

Gradually, treatments become more spaced out as the practitioner tries to get the system

working on its own again. I am used to it now and during my monthly sessions I’m able to

withstand quite vigorous massage.

I was eight months into my treatment before I started to feel better. Since month 15 the gap

between my sessions is now two months, and the improvements are more constant.

Most of the time my muscles and joints are pain-free, my concentration is not bad, and I

have so much more energy. Recently I have even felt well enough to stay with friends for

whole weekends.

The technique is not medically proven, but I know that if my symptoms start to return, a

single session gets rid of them.

This is not a short or an easy treatment and it’s not a cure. However, after just the first year,

I looked back and realised it had transformed my life.

I wish one of the many GPs I begged for help had bothered to do research and told me

about it. They could have saved me from a living hell.

www.theperrinclinic.com

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-206081811-zombie-years-massage-brought-life-ME-treatment-GPs-dont-knowabout.