In the past, projecting an image of success was relatively straightforward. The formula was simple: act busy, complain about fatigue, and let your colleagues assume that your packed schedule equated to achievement. However, the norms have evolved, and in the contemporary landscape, it appears that being merely busy is insufficient. To signify true success today, one must exhibit visible signs of exhaustion, a product of the relentless hours dedicated to various health and wellness pursuits.

Gone are the days when frequent flyer miles were the ultimate bragging rights. Nowadays, discussions among ambitious professionals increasingly revolve around practices like yoga, intermittent fasting, strength training, and blood sugar management. Among the affluent, there’s a growing trend to flaunt advanced treatments such as ozone therapy, hyperbaric oxygen chambers, and even genetic testing. While this collective focus on longevity may carry a more positive connotation than luxury cars, it raises a pressing concern: the immense pressure to maintain this wellness façade may inadvertently lead to negative consequences for mental and physical health.

Having recently ignored a tennis injury and pushed myself to the limit with running, I currently find myself struggling to walk. My daily goal of 10,000 steps has plummeted to a mere 10, and instead of indulging in a comforting piece of chocolate—which I momentarily crave—I have been trying to cut out sugar from my diet. This dilemma led me to delve into the concept of “wellbeing burnout.” A survey conducted across more than a dozen countries by the popular athletic wear brand Lululemon revealed that the constant chase for optimal health and fitness might ironically lead to poorer health outcomes. Respondents cited conflicting and often overwhelming advice as a significant source of stress.

The wellness industry is experiencing a massive boom, surpassing sectors like tourism and information technology in market share, as reported by the Global Wellness Institute. Following the pandemic, data from health insurer Bupa indicated that wealthier individuals in the UK have increased their expenditure on health and wellbeing by an impressive 20 percent. Yet, within this thriving market, discerning effective products and services from those that are mere hype or “snake oil” is becoming increasingly challenging. Many popular brain training apps are ineffective, and extreme fasting or unverified treatments like blood infusions carry potential health hazards.

Recently, I received an invitation for a complimentary trip to an avant-garde wellness spa in Europe, featuring some avant-garde treatments, including cold plasma bathing. However, after a rather unconvincing discussion with the resident physician, I opted to decline the offer, despite the eye-watering prices. It’s evident that a competitive market is emerging focused on longevity, even if the treatments being offered lack sufficient scientific validation. The race to enhance one’s health has taken a turn towards potentially dangerous territory, as individuals seek any edge they can find.

While turning health into a competitive endeavor can foster motivation—evidence supports that aerobic exercise plays a crucial role in healthy aging—it can also have adverse effects. Some medical professionals have shared concerning trends, such as spinal surgeons treating patients injured while attempting to show off their kettlebell skills. Similarly, physical therapists report an uptick in injuries associated with yoga, and I have witnessed a friend in her fifties sustain an injury after lifting weights that were excessively heavy, all because she wanted to impress her much younger personal trainer.

Perhaps the most ludicrous manifestation of this competitive spirit is the phenomenon of the “Strava mule.” These individuals are allegedly compensated to enhance others’ running or cycling metrics by utilizing their smartwatches, often going so far as to carry multiple devices simultaneously. This competition is fundamentally flawed; the only victor is the individual who has deceived others about their achievements.

The determination to extend one’s health span has resulted in a plethora of what can effectively be described as self-administered, unregulated experiments. With advancements in diagnostic technology outpacing treatment methodologies, individuals are increasingly turning towards substances such as microdoses of psilocybin (magic mushrooms) or online purchases of peptides like NAD and diabetes medications such as Metformin. This trend has created what resembles a parallel testing environment—albeit at significant personal risk.

However, a distinction exists between the online purchase of supplements or bespoke treatment plans offered by high-end, personal healthcare practitioners and the often dubious treatments found in spas with unguaranteed safety and efficacy. Whole-body cryotherapy (WBC), for instance, involves exposing the body to subzero temperatures for several minutes and has been applied in medical contexts to alleviate chronic pain. Yet, dermatologists caution that WBC can lead to swelling, and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has stated that its purported healing benefits remain unverified.

As the number of WBC spas continues to increase, the list of claimed benefits inflates too. Experts have voiced concerns regarding the safety of intravenous “party drips” and vitamin shots, which can impose undue stress on the liver and kidneys. These cocktails were attributed to a health scare involving model Kendall Jenner in 2018, yet the trend persists unabated, with services now being delivered directly to homes in both the U.S. and the U.K.

While the high expense of these treatments may enhance their allure as status symbols, the cost does not necessarily equate to quality. Many of the most effective strategies for reducing disease risk and promoting healthy aging are surprisingly straightforward and affordable. Individuals could invest in clinics to screen for Alzheimer’s biomarkers or simply focus on lifestyle changes such as reducing alcohol consumption, increasing physical activity, and consuming a balanced diet filled with vegetables and oily fish—advice that most clinics would likely suggest in any case.

For those who find navigating the ever-changing wellness landscape overwhelming, it may be beneficial to revert to the fundamentals: consume fewer processed foods, spend time outdoors, engage in regular exercise, and nurture meaningful relationships. These practices are not exclusive to the wealthy. The relentless pressure to achieve a body that reflects billionaire standards or the temptation to embellish on fitness tracking platforms may not be conducive to any form of improved wellbeing.

For further insights or to send your thoughts, you can reach out to me directly at camilla.cavendish@ft.com.