Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts

Sunday, January 18, 2026

Breath by James Nestor: We All Breathe Badly!!




As a book, Breath works because it sneaks physiology in through storytelling. Nestor uses explorers, monks, athletes, dentists, and oddball experiments to make one simple point: "how we breathe now is not how humans evolved to breathe — and it’s costing us health." He sometimes leans too hard on anecdote, but he never loses sight of the central truth: breathing is a trainable biological system, not an automatic afterthought.

What makes the book especially effective is that it doesn’t treat breathing as wellness fluff. It ties breath to:

* facial structure and crooked teeth

* sleep apnea and snoring

* anxiety and panic

* endurance and recovery

* inflammation and nitric oxide

That’s a surprisingly wide map for something most people do 20,000 times a day without thinking.

Where Nestor is strongest is in showing that "over-breathing" — fast, shallow, mouth-based breathing — is now the default in industrial societies, and that this alone can drive fatigue, nervousness, poor sleep, and reduced oxygen delivery. You don’t need to buy every historical claim he makes to see that the modern chest-breathing, mouth-open pattern is maladaptive.

The practical side of the book is what gives it staying power. You can read it as a story, but you walk away with concrete, testable habits: nasal breathing, slower exhalations, tolerance of mild air hunger, and attention to nighttime breathing. None of that is mystical. It’s nervous-system regulation and gas chemistry.

Breath doesn’t promise immortality. It promises something more believable: that "if you stop fighting your own respiratory system, a lot of things quietly get better." That’s a rare combination of entertainment and usefulness. Nestor made something most of us never think about — breathing — feel like a lost technology.

It’s not a medical textbook. It’s part history, part journalism, part self-experiment. Some of its claims get overstated, but the "core" is solid: how you breathe affects your nervous system, sleep, blood pressure, endurance, anxiety, and even how your face and jaw develop.

And most modern people breathe badly.

What he gets right:

1. Nasal breathing matters

Breathing through your nose:

* warms and filters air

* produces nitric oxide (which improves oxygen uptake)

* keeps airways open

* reduces snoring and apnea

Mouth breathing, especially at night, is linked to:

* poor sleep

* dry mouth and cavities

* higher blood pressure

* anxiety

* worse endurance

If you do "one" thing from that book, it should be: sleep with your mouth closed.

That’s why he pushes mouth tape — weird but effective.  I use it now.

2. Slow breathing calms your nervous system

Long exhales activate the vagus nerve. That shifts your body from “fight or flight” into “rest and repair.” It’s not mystical — it’s physiology.

A simple rule:

* Inhale ~4 seconds

* Exhale ~6–8 seconds

Do that for 5 minutes and your heart rate, cortisol, and blood pressure drop. 

3. Overbreathing is the modern disease

Most of us breathe too much, too fast, and too shallow. That:

* lowers CO₂

* reduces oxygen delivery to tissues

* increases anxiety and fatigue

The irony: breathing less makes you feel better.

That’s why techniques like Buteyko and “box breathing” work.

4. CO₂ tolerance = endurance and calm

Your urge to breathe is driven by CO₂, not oxygen. Training yourself to tolerate higher CO₂:

* improves athletic performance

* reduces panic

* increases breath efficiency

Simple test: how long you can hold your breath after a normal exhale. Under 20 seconds = poor. Over 40 = very good.

5. You don’t need all the crazy stuff

Some of the book’s “ancient breathing secrets” are romanticized. You don’t need Tibetan monks or Wim Hof ice baths to get the benefit.

Good things:

* nasal breathing

* slower breathing

* deeper diaphragm movement

* better sleep breathing

Breath  is a fun read with a lot of good information.




Sunday, March 1, 2020

Disposable Health Wealth


When I left Israel, I took a direct flight to Tbilisi, Georgia. I had never been to this country on the east end of the Black Sea with a civilization dating back more than three millennia. I had a vague plan of seeing Tbilisi then heading to Azerbijan and maybe Armenia before returning to the Georgian capital.  I stayed in Tbilisi for all of the four days I was going to spend in the region. A week ago I wrote about how much I loved riding here.

One of my recent meditations is on thankfulness. It occurred to me after I left the Republic of Georgia, that one thing I can be very thankful for is a ridiculous amount of disposable health.  Of course, the fact that I can fly to Israel and Georgia and ride also says I have disposable wealth, but the riding in Georgia in particular says I have disposable health.

Every day for three days I rode up a six-mile or a nine-mile hill and rode back down through switchbacks occasionally passing a car.  Even as I approach my seven decade with the body and mind I was born with (except for a few replacement parts), both still function well enough to allow me to ride a bike up and down a mountain every day, eat local food, explore the city on buses subways in addition to the bike, and then fly off to another adventure.

But as with all the healthiest people I know, health is not the goal. At various times in my life, I have obsessively worked out because I wanted to be a bicycle racer,  to be a soldier again in my mid-50s and then an Ironman. But I have never made being healthy a goal.  The result of being a soldier, a racer or an Ironman is health, a lot of health, disposable health.

I am so very thankful for the health that allows me to make a plan, then change the plan based on what is in front of me.


Monday, May 21, 2018

Live Forever? Yes! In This Body? No.


Unicorn Farting a Rainbow:
Long life and lack of reality

Today and many other days, a nice person less than half my age said something to the effect of, "You're going to live to be 100! How can I get in shape like you?"

Usually I say thanks and change the subject.  Sometimes, I answer truthfully. Answer 1:  No, I don't want to live to 100, at least not in this body.
Answer 2: You won't like the answer.

Even before I broke my neck in a 50 mph bicycle crash 11 years ago, I was thinking about how life would be when I was older than 75, and how long I wanted to live. The modern medicine I love so much for keeping me alive will betray me as the end of my life gets closer.  I just started a wonderful book titled Being Mortal by doctor and New Yorker writer Atul Gawande. He makes clear what I already knew that the bias in medicine is strongly toward heroic measures to prolong the lives of even clearly terminal patients.

Most people simply want to live longer without much thought about how they live.  I really don't.  I love being alive, but I see old age as a minefield I have to traverse.  And crossing a minefield requires skill, sensitivity, information and luck.

The odds are, according to insurance estimates, I will have a long life.  Of course, 65 is already way longer than I ever thought I would live. I once wrote a series of blog posts about how I would already be dead if I had been born 50 or more years ago.  And that does not include waiting for World War III to start on the border in Cold War West Germany.

A few of the "How I Would Have Died" posts:
Missile Explosion
Motorcycle
Vaccination
Bicycle Race Crash I
Bicycle Race Crash II

As it turns out, I do many things the advice books say to have a good life in later years. Better still, the things I need to do are what I want to do.

I get lots of exercise because I love to ride.

I read out of love, not just for information. Two days after Christmas, I found out Mark Helprin had written a new novel about my favorite city--Paris in the Present Tense--it was like a double Christmas.

I do crossword puzzles,

I travel,

I do new things I have never done before.

I have many wonderful friends and my new life as a protester has given me new friends. All those things are supposed to give me a great life in my 70s and beyond.

But then there's medical reality.  I have had four major concussions. Four times I have seen a bright blue flash behind my eyes and lost consciousness.  My brain works now, but brain injuries will catch up with me just as surely as other injuries already have.

My wrists, especially the right wrist I broke three times, hurt nearly every day. My knees click and pop loudly in yoga class every week. The many injuries I accumulated over the last 60 years all put a kink or a twist in the life I live now. These problems are in addition to the other problems we all share with aging.

Speaking of brain health, I started learning Hebrew a few months ago.  Again, not for health, but because I want to.  This week I learned about the seven forms of the Hebrew verb. I was delighted. I have been practicing the gendered, numbered forms of the present participle.  But the most difficult thing is the vocabulary. But when I learn ten new words and forget five I learned the day before. Learning a language is natural at age 5, crazy at 65.

Spiritual life can be even more of a minefield. In The Screwtape Letters  by C.S. Lewis, the mid-level bureaucrat in Hell sending advice to a field agent tells him to prolong the life of the people he wants to lure into Hell.  It's not only that beliefs harden with age, the ability to exam beliefs and react to new information is even more difficult. Just when spiritual life means the most, the tendency is to push away new experience. Screwtape wants his patients to have a long life in which to tempt them.

No one knows what life after death is like. I have favorite guesses, but no facts. I believe that we live eternally after death, but that also is a matter of faith. I have no evidence except from people who are still alive or those who spoke about their beliefs while they were alive.

I love being alive, which makes me sure I do not want to prolong my life simply to have more years. If the end is near, I want to be ready to embrace what comes next, not struggling to remain alive at any cost.  I hope I can look at that reality squarely not be grasping for unicorns and rainbows.

Suresnes American Cemetery and Memorial

  Perched on the slopes of Mont Valérien just west of Paris , the Suresnes American Cemetery is the only American military cemetery from t...