I have been reading Eric Topol’s Super Agers, and it has been quietly reshaping how I think about longevity, metabolism, and what personalized care actually means.
Two studies he references challenge a surprisingly common assumption, one that sits underneath a great deal of standard advice and underneath how we individualize our own program. The assumption is that our bodies respond to food in roughly the same way. They do not.
Do two people respond to the same meal differently?
Substantially, yes. A large study known as PREDICT 1 followed over a thousand people, including identical twins, measuring what happened after standardized meals. Two people could eat the exact same food and have very different blood sugar responses.
Researchers measured not just blood sugar, but insulin, blood fats and other metabolic signals.
Even more interesting: blood sugar responses and triglyceride responses did not reliably move together. In other words, tracking glucose alone, while useful, does not tell the full metabolic story.
Does personalizing a diet actually work better?
In one trial, yes. Researchers randomized 225 people with prediabetes to either a standard Mediterranean-style diet or a diet personalized by an algorithm using clinical data and gut microbiome information. Over six months, the personalized approach led to better glucose regulation.
This was not about perfection or micromanaging every bite.
It was an early attempt to respect biological individuality in a structured, testable way.
Should I be tracking my glucose?
Not necessarily, and this is where I appreciate Topol’s restraint. Continuous glucose monitors can show dramatic post-meal spikes, but we still do not fully understand how short-term glucose fluctuations translate into long-term outcomes, especially in people without diabetes.
So the takeaway is not fear. It is not obsession. And it definitely is not that everyone needs to optimize every data point.
The takeaway is simpler, and I think more humane. Our bodies are more individual than our nutrition advice often assumes.
As I continue reading and caring for patients, I find myself increasingly interested in how we can responsibly bring this kind of thinking into real clinical care. Not all at once. Not with hype. And not before the science is ready.
Just thoughtfully, as part of a broader shift toward helping people understand their bodies better, and make decisions from a place of clarity rather than guilt or guesswork.
