I’m 52. My idea of “relaxation” is a beer on the porch. But a friend slipped me a piece of peanut butter chocolate before a hike last month. I was skeptical. Forty-five minutes later, the trail looked like a painting. My knee pain faded. My son’s bad jokes became hilarious. It wasn’t scary or disorienting—just warm and easy. I’ve since bought my own bar. A single square is enough. If you’re older and curious, go slow. You might be surprised how gentle this can be.
