I am patient zero.

I want to start with a number.

38.2

That was my epigenetic age when I first tested it. My chronological age was 36. I was a solo founder, running two companies, sleeping five hours on a good night, flying between Seoul and Jakarta every few weeks. I thought I was fine. I was not.

The gap between 36 and 38.2 doesn't sound like much. It's 2.2 years. But what it means is this: at 36, my cells were aging at the pace of a 38-year-old. Not because I was unlucky. Because of how I was living.

That number changed everything.

I didn't set out to build a longevity hotel. I set out to understand why I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn't fix. The therapist I saw in late 2024 said something I've never forgotten: "Your burnout isn't emotional. It's a measurement problem. You don't know what's actually wrong, so you can't fix it."

She was right. I was guessing. My entire approach to my own health was anecdotal. So I stopped guessing and started measuring.