I seriously want to live to be 120 years old.
So I try to live as deliberately as possible.
Today, I want to put into words my daily life since deciding to live to 120,
and why I came to want to live that long.
My Daily Life
Strength Training
I do strength training about four days a week. Strength training has been a hobby of mine for over 30 years. I focus on bodybuilding-style training for physique development.
Aerobic Exercise
I do aerobic exercise about three times a week. I started making aerobic exercise a regular habit in middle age.
When I was a bit younger, I used to run outside, but since I’m taller than average and also do weight training, which makes me heavier, I became concerned about accumulating damage to my knees. Nowadays, I mainly do indoor exercises like using an exercise bike.
I also live with developmental disabilities, and I was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder., and I’ve noticed that continuing aerobic exercise provides a stabilizing effect on my mental health.
Meals
My diet meal is based on the eating plans of bodybuilders and other athletes competing in physique competitions.
I structure my meals with a focus on:
low GI foods,
PFC balance,
and dietary fiber (emphasizing gut health).
Additionally, I supplement with water-soluble vitamins and zinc, which is known to significantly impact immunity.
For six days a week, I stick to a fixed diet of chicken breast, fish, eggs, vegetables, and barley rice, varying only the cooking methods.
Then, just one day a week, I eat whatever I feel like eating at that moment.
This could be anything from fried chicken, hamburgers, beef steak, sushi, pizza, or sweet breads – whatever I crave that day. It differs slightly from the “cheat day” often discussed in diet theories; the goal isn’t to eat large quantities. I choose and eat whatever I most want to eat based on my mood that day.
What I find crucial here is this: if you find yourself eagerly anticipating this weekly “free day,”
it signals something is wrong—
that you aren’t enjoying your regular meals,
meaning you’re pushing yourself too hard.
That’s how I interpret it.
Therefore, even with my regular meals—which might seem “too strict” to the average person—I consciously strive to pursue the “joy of eating delicious food” as much as possible.
Quitting Alcohol and Smoking
In my younger days, I used to indulge in both alcohol and cigarettes, but I’ve completely given them up now.
Sleep
I’ve always been an early sleeper since I was young. Even during the age when I most wanted to stay out late, I was usually asleep by 11 PM. Nowadays, it’s not uncommon for me to go to bed in the 9 o’clock hour. Staying up late or pulling all-nighters causes too much damage to my mind and body, especially since I’m prone to sudden fatigue due to my innate constitution.
And I’m also an early riser. Lately, I’ve been making a point to get up at 6 AM.
Why Live to 120? — The “0.6 Myth”
First, I want to strongly emphasize that what I express in this chapter is merely a common belief and not a fact widely accepted in the scientific community.
It is simply my personal thoughts put into words.
With that in mind,
there is a common belief that “the mental age of individuals with developmental disorders tends to be younger than that of neurotypical individuals, roughly equivalent to multiplying their actual age by 0.6.”
To reiterate, this is purely a common belief, and many people will dismiss it outright, thinking “That can’t be true.” That’s perfectly fine. Even among individuals with developmental disabilities, experiences vary greatly. It also depends on the individual’s perspective—how they wish to be, how they want to be understood by society. Some may find comfort in the “appearing younger than their actual age” frame, while others may feel anxious or uncomfortable.
In this article, I use “mental age” to mean things like:
how one navigates life,
or a subjective sense of maturity.
Now, regarding this “0.6 myth,” when I apply it to myself, I can’t say it doesn’t ring true.
Take when I was 18, for instance.
An 18-year-old boy is typically seen as being at an age where interest in the opposite sex and romance peaks.
While environment certainly plays a role, it’s an age where it wouldn’t be surprising at all for classmates to already have romantic partners.
But for me at 18, women were utterly baffling, incomprehensible, and in a way, frightening. I believe this was influenced by growing up with a mother who was what you might call a “toxic parent.” So this isn’t necessarily a phenomenon common to developmental disorders.
This indescribable feeling I had towards women persisted, though gradually less intense, until I was in my mid-twenties. During that time, even if a woman showed interest in me, I would often react with strong rejection, saying things like “Stop it!” or I would avoid them completely – essentially running away from the situation. Conversely, I suspect I was often misunderstood as being ‘pretentious’ or “putting up walls.”
This could be described as “I did something regrettable,” or, expressing it as a man’s honest emotion, “I wasted opportunities.”
At 18, I felt women were scary. When approached by one, I didn’t know how to react. My mind would panic, manifesting as a rejection signal. It was a painful cry from my heart: “Stop it!”
Following the “0.6 theory,” multiplying 18 by 0.6 rounds to 11. If I were an 11-year-old boy, well, that might explain it. Because of my immaturity, I couldn’t process the situation I was in, so I rejected it and could only run away.
When I learned about the “0.6 theory” – that is, when I was already well into middle age – I recalled my younger self in that light.
This line of thinking was certainly the initial hook that made me consider this “0.6 theory” worthy of attention.
Furthermore, looking back on my life not just in my twenties but afterward too, I often feel the “0.6 theory” applies.
Take age 30, for example. Generally, it’s considered the time when the restless, unfocused twenties have passed, and one should start seriously, profoundly contemplating life’s various matters.
But in my case, age 30 was completely devoid of such seriousness.
Applying the “0.6 Myth” again, 30 is 18. Thinking about it this way, I strangely find myself accepting my own immaturity and lack of insight back then.
The twenties are often described as
“an age when you think you understand something,
but in reality, you understand nothing
and see nothing.”
Whether this is a valid opinion likely varies by individual, but if we take this perspective as a premise, then 18 is arguably the stage just before “thinking you understand something.” Looking back, I realize that’s pretty much how I felt at 30 too.
I had planned for my life to end at age 50
At age 38, I fell terribly ill.
I lost my job,
and was forced to withdraw from the university where I was enrolled as a student at the time.
Then, a period of being forced to withdraw from all social activities lasted over ten years.
During that time at rock bottom, I actually intended to end my life at age 50.
“It is more noble to die beautiful and strong than to grow ugly, frail, and weak.”
Such life philosophies kept catching my eye everywhere.
At this point, my resolve to end my life at 50 had reached a stage within me that was almost on the verge of becoming a full-fledged ideology.
My working memory is weak, and my memory isn’t exactly outstanding, so when explaining anything about myself, my “personal timeline” is indispensable. This is a timeline-format data file created in spreadsheet software.
It records what happened each year from my birth to the present.
Naturally, the personal timeline covering my most painful era only had rows up to age 50.
That’s where my life would end, and anything beyond held no meaning.
Turning Point
The event that changed my outlook on life was receiving a developmental disability diagnosis at age 48.
At the time, I knew the term “developmental disability,” but my understanding was limited to something like, “I don’t really get it, but it’s for people struggling with social skills.”
So, learning I had a developmental disability shook the identity I’d held for 48 years, thinking “this is who I am.” But I’ll save that discussion for another time.
Forced to reflect on my 48 years of life, I began voraciously seeking information about developmental disorders.
Then, upon encountering the “0.6 Myth,” I started thinking:
“If this myth applies to me,
then even if I live to 70,
doesn’t that mean my heart only lived until age 42?”
The fact that I only lived until age 42—in present-day Japan, most people would likely feel that’s “too soon,” wouldn’t they?
Then I started thinking this way:
“Even if I lived to 100, I’d only just reach 60—my kanreki.
That’s still an age where there’s so much left to do.”
“120 years old. Perhaps an unrealistically long time.
But even then, my heart would only have lived until age 72.
You can’t truly say you’ve lived life to the fullest
unless you live at least until 120, can you?”
And so, a blank line was added to my personal timeline:
until the year 2096 in the Western calendar,
or until age 120 according to my planned lifespan.
Wanting to live until 120
wasn’t just about age;
it was also a declaration of intent
not to let life end prematurely.
In Closing
I want to live to be 120.
This isn’t about bragging about longevity, nor is it about health tips.
It was a decision
to allow myself once more
to chart a course forward
for the life I had left unfinished,
or thought I should have ended prematurely.
My life isn’t special.
No flashy challenges, no dramatic changes.
I simply try to face each day as carefully as possible,
so tomorrow doesn’t arrive as a blank page.
Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll live to be 120.
But by leaving blank lines ahead on my personal timeline,
I think I’ve finally been able to tell myself:
it’s okay for life to continue.
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