Do you ever wonder how your brain works? In this episode, we have the privilege of hosting Neurotherapist Dr. Andrew Hill, who graciously guides us through an exploration of cerebral operations. Following our participation in Quantitative EEG "brain mapping," we had the opportunity to interpret the ensuing data in real time during the podcast. Our analysis delves into an array of brain patterns, connections, and states of neural activity. Notably, several of these revelations unveil significant correlations with the daily-life symptoms I encounter and even extend to my athletic performance, all without any prior interaction with Dr. Hill. Our discussion extends to the impact of brain injuries on function, alongside an examination of how brain mapping holds promise for forthcoming athletes. We conclude by addressing pivotal lifestyle factors poised to enhance cognitive capabilities. Episode Overview: 1:14 Understanding The Tests Of My Brain 3:39 Interpreting My Results - Performance 6:22 My Brain Patterns and Brain Waves 16:55 Why Connor Might Have Brain Fog 18:55 Being Tired Wired and Sleep 27:05 Acquired Vs Learned Brain 33:05 How Brain Mapping Could Help Future Athletes 48:19 Lifestyle Factors To Boost Results 58:52 Conclusion Connect With Peak Brain Institute at https://peakbraininstitute.com/ To purchase my favorite Designs For Sport supplements visit www.connorcarrick.com TOLOS BAREFOOT SHOES - Use Code “CC” for 10% Off Your Order - https://weartolos.com/ Follow Connor’s Instagram or Twitter Visit our YouTube for additional content
Episode Summary
I sat down with hockey player Connor Carrick on his podcast to read his QEEG brain map in real time, cold, with almost no medical history in front of me. This conversation originally aired on Connor Carrick's show; you can watch the original conversation. What follows is my own read of his data and the mechanisms behind what he was feeling, written in my voice. I have kept his clinical details to what he shared openly on the recording.
What does a QEEG brain map actually measure?
I am a cognitive neuroscientist, so I run a trick: I put physiology and performance side by side and look for what sticks out. The assessment has two parts. First, an executive function test, which is basically being bored for twenty minutes while numbers flash on a screen or play over a speaker about once per second. That unloads your attention resources so I can watch them under load. Then a resting map, a cap on the head, gel in the sensors, fifteen to twenty minutes sitting still with eyes closed and eyes open.
The attention data shifts a little day to day. The brain map is stable. It is a fingerprint of your resources. Reading it is harder than it sounds, because people are weird. How much theta or alpha you make, how fast your brain runs, those are true measurements. What they mean for you compared to the average person your age is not always obvious. So I find the big outliers in performance, generate some hypotheses, go to the map, and narrow down until we land on something you actually care about. If you want the full walkthrough of the method, I cover it in the QEEG brain mapping guide.
The frame matters here. We are doing something closer to a DEXA scan and a functional strength assessment with your coach: where are the bottlenecks, where do you shave time, where does a resource need to get stronger.
What did the executive function test show?
Connor performed well above average on the front end. His vigilance, background focus, and quickness ran a standard deviation and a half above the mean. Sports car brain. He could pump the gas (activation) and pump the brakes (response control, the ability to hold back when a distractor pops up) at a high level.
The interesting finding came at fatigue. Around the fifteen-minute mark, his stamina for inhibition wore out. His prudence stayed high. His ability to monitor and adjust stayed high. The resource that holds the brake down, moment after moment, started draining. In a high-stress environment where you are mixing activation and inhibition and making fast decisions, that means performance starts tailing off after sustained output. That maps cleanly onto what he described: sharp and creative through the first half of the day, then a bonk from roughly 2pm to 6pm where life was coming at him instead of him playing with it.
Why was his alpha running slow, and what does that have to do with brain fog?
The biggest feature in his map was slow alpha. Alpha is your brain's idling speed, the internal processing tempo for thinking and clarity. His was dragging by about a standard deviation and a half. He is running slower in internal processing speed than he should for someone not yet thirty. I write more about what this rhythm does in decoding alpha waves.
When alpha drags and spreads, you get brain fog, low-key non-specific tiredness, and a stamina problem in the afternoon. You also get word-finding trouble, the tip-of-the-tongue stuff, delayed recall for names. Connor confirmed name anxiety has been a heavy theme for him, reaching for names and words he should have easily. At forty-five or fifty, slow alpha is closer to a normal aging signal, like declining bone density. At twenty-nine it reads as an acquired bottleneck worth working out. For the broader pattern, see biohacking brain fog.
Is brain fog from concussion or from poor sleep?
Both are plausible, and at the EEG level they look similar. Slow alpha and the fog phenomenon are acquired, not his native speed. The cause could be too much stress, shallow sleep, or wear and tear leaving residual slow activity. Brain fog has a thousand sources: concussion, COVID, chemo, mold, Lyme. At the EEG level you can tell something is going on but not exactly what. You do not have to know the cause to train the resource. If I spot the fog and you confirm you feel foggy, we can push that pattern around regardless of how it got there, unless something is actively keeping it stuck.
Connor's history makes concussion a reasonable contributor. Eleven years pro, hundreds of games, some nasty hits, plus a fall backward onto the ice as a kid before helmets were mandatory in youth leagues. His map showed a clue consistent with that story: a lot of theta swelling across the back of the head when he closed his eyes, the visual cortex going oddly sleepy and powering down, as if that tissue is tired.
What does extra theta on the left side mean for sleep?
Connor had a blob of theta on the left central cortex, more than three standard deviations above average, bright red on the map. Theta is the brain's release brain wave; it takes the brakes off a cortical module. The usual problem with heavy theta there is poor background focus. Connor did not show that. His sustained attention was a strength, a near-superpower for locking in.
The second thing that left-central theta tends to interfere with is sleep maintenance, the ability to stay deeply asleep and build up slow-wave sleep. My read: he is a little bit asleep all the time when awake, and cannot dive into and hold the deep chunks of sleep at night. That produces the classic wired-and-tired state. Slow to wake in the first ten to fifteen minutes, then a falloff in intensity and decision-making under high CNS demand later in the day.
Much of neurofeedback centers on a rhythm called sensorimotor rhythm, SMR, 12 to 15 Hz. SMR is the frequency you use to stay deeply asleep and to hold your body still and controlled. The cat in the windowsill watching birds, body frozen, attention laser-locked, is a high-SMR state. Low SMR with high theta is what we call ADHD: disinhibited and reactive to stimuli. I dig into that rhythm in SMR neurofeedback, and the sleep architecture piece in biohacking sleep.
There is also a mechanism behind his missing dreams. You need big bursts of deep sleep to build the growth hormone that supports consolidation. Without enough deep sleep, you dream and then forget it, because the deep sleep that would have stored the experience is not happening.
What do the midline beta hot spots mean for anxiety and rumination?
Connor made extra beta toward the midline, mostly at the back, some in the front. Beta is your conscious gas pedal, the band you think and feel with, in the teens of Hz and up. The midline structures here are the cingulate cortices.
The posterior cingulate sits in the back midline and handles orienting to the outside world: heads up, watch the road, here comes the puck. When the world has felt unpredictable or unsafe, that tissue cramps and you get rumination, that stuck-in-the-gut worry that is hard to put down. Connor confirmed a quiet, persistent anxiety that is not always topic-dependent, flavor of the week.
The anterior cingulate in the front midline drives perseveration. When it activates, you think the same thoughts again and again, a little obsessive. The cingulates are part of the default mode network, your self-reflective awareness. He called it the dog-walking phenomenon: walking the whole loop while one concern runs nonstop, missing the trees entirely.
He also had activation behind the right ear, the temporoparietal junction, what I call the Princess and the Pea. It maps the outside world into the mind. When it runs hot, you catch every subtle sensory thing, the friend chewing across the room, the dog barking down the block. The labels do not fit cleanly for his overall profile. He looked impulsive on the test yet outperformed most people; attention does not usually behave that way. For how these patterns cluster, see biohacking with EEG phenotypes and biohacking anxiety.
There was also theta toward the front-right corner. The dorsolateral frontal corners run an approach-versus-avoid balance: a happy little kid on the left front saying come here, world, and a grumpy old man on the right front saying go away, this is too hard. Heavy theta on the right front corner means that grumpy old man has moved past grumpy into something frozen and overwhelmed, which shows up as a weighty sense of dread rather than a quick spike of anxiety. Connor recognized it.
Are these patterns problems or resources?
An existing resource stuck in a mode is a more accurate description than a broken part. The front midline can be a focused CEO or a little OCD. The back midline can be a lifeguard who enjoys the job or a threat-sensitivity response, or anywhere in between.
Connor's stressy patterns read as compensatory. He is pushing through fog and fatigue with very powerful resources, and doing it well enough that I could barely see the fog in his performance. He is a sports car driving with the emergency brake on and a foot on the gas to compensate, still arriving ahead of most cars, occasionally clipping a mailbox. That framing points to the right target: the slow alpha and sleep-maintenance theta driving the fatigue, not the compensation he built on top.
Can brain mapping change how athletes manage concussion risk?
I work with NFL players, international footballers, and skiers. The repetitive head-impact sports where contact is built into the game are hard to endorse for a developing brain. One twenty-minute soccer heading drill can show concussion markers, elevated GABA, and reduced memory function for forty-eight hours. Girls get injured at higher rates than boys in soccer; just as strong, not quite as durable.
Hockey is different. You take hits, but you do not have to get concussed to do the job well. A mild concussion every couple of years is a risk you can manage, especially with tools in hand. I have skiers who come in roughly every two or three years with a significant concussion, usually in the off-season, rebuild their brain, and compete comfortably the next season. They have assessment tools and remote neurofeedback, so the concussion becomes something they can address on a timeline.
That is the shift I want the hockey community to consider: treat your brain as plastic as you treat your body. Twenty years ago personal training was not standard in the NHL. The next wave is building CNS and nervous-system work into the performance team, including meditation and breath work as accessible entry points.
What does neurofeedback actually do, and how fast?
You have been training your central nervous system your whole life. The first six to eight weeks of lifting are CNS adaptation, not muscle. A baby doing its first push-up and registering the new view is the same associative learning we use in neurofeedback to stretch a resource. If you want the underlying biology, I cover it in biohacking plasticity.
What I like about neurofeedback is that change comes fast and you feel it. I validate against your experience, not my theory. If I train theta down and beta up on the left side for deeper sleep and sustained focus, what matters is whether you sleep deeper and feel more focused. If four sessions in you are too focused to fall asleep, we have overshot and back off. It is like calling your trainer to say your arms are noodles, so we ease off the curl bar.
You can typically exercise a target rhythm by about one standard deviation, one z-score, every twenty to twenty-five sessions, roughly every other month. Connor's heavy theta and slow alpha can change permanently over a few months. The first thing to expect is a broad shift: sleeping more deeply, waking more thoroughly, more stamina in the second half of the day. Early on, many people get a stretch of vivid, varied dreams, a plasticity boost, the brain's version of post-gym soreness.
Seeing your patterns in data also changes your relationship with them. The bottleneck is real. Word-finding trouble is real. Slow alpha running a standard deviation and a half below your age norm is a resource you can train, not a character flaw. That hands the agency back to you. For where to start remotely, see remote neurofeedback.
Which lifestyle factors amplify neurofeedback results?
Meditation comes first. Ten to fifteen minutes every morning builds plasticity and supports everything else. I think of this as a minimum viable practice: what do you not skip in the morning? Five sun salutations, five minutes of breathing. It is your devotion, not your workout. If it feels like a burden, you committed to too much; start small and make it regular. More on the mechanism in biohacking meditation and the morning structure in biohacking your morning.
A few specifics from the conversation:
- Sleep timing. Stop eating before bed so blood sugar can drop, which lets growth hormone build during deep sleep.
- Hormetic stress. Two to four saunas a week. If you hate ice baths, use contrast cooling: fifteen to twenty minutes to heat and flush, five minutes in a cool shower, then heat again, a vascular pump.
- Hyperbaric oxygen. Impactful when stacked, but dive last in a day. Too much oxygen before other interventions changes the brain too fast and you lose the chance to train the weak spots. For deep tissue like the brain, I favor hard chambers at two atmospheres on pure oxygen; soft mild chambers do more for skin, muscle, and lung tissue with blood flow than for the brain.
- PIR HEG. Passive infrared hemoencephalography, a forehead blood-flow sensor that teaches you to pump cerebral blood flow, another route at the fatigue.
On supplements, I prefer to remove the bottleneck rather than patch over it, so these come later and depend on goals. N-acetylcysteine can quiet the front-midline obsessive spinning for some people. A newer phospholipid-bound omega-3, LPC-DHA / LPC-EPA, shows roughly sixfold better blood-brain-barrier penetration than standard omega-3s, with strong animal-model recovery data for brain and eye injury; standard omega-3s barely cross. Citicoline (CDP-choline) gives a speed-of-processing and word-finding bump and supports remyelination over the long term, though for a smooth athlete it can run a touch over-stimulating.
Diet is goal-dependent. A human runs a successful macro strategy as long as they are not eating high amounts of all three macros at once; pick your fuel and perform. For a high-output athlete fueling explosive bursts, protein and managing free sugars matter more than chasing a guru's carb rule. A breath-acetone device like Biosense lets you steer ketosis and find how many carbs your muscle mass and liver can actually dispose of, instead of guessing. I cover the broader principle in strategic fasting. Performance at the highest level still requires carbohydrates, so low-carb experiments belong in the off-season, not in-season.
The bottom line for athletes worried about their brain
Connor came in wanting more stamina and less fog, and his map pointed to a clear path: slow alpha and sleep-maintenance theta driving the fatigue, with compensatory midline activity layered on top. Over the next several weeks of training, the early signal will be deeper sleep, sharper waking, and more energy in the afternoon, with the bigger marker being the ability to handle more output without depleting. He wanted to answer the bell, not make the stressors disappear. Brain mapping plus neurofeedback gives an athlete the tools to do exactly that, and to re-read their own brain a year or two down the road when the next hit, the next bottleneck, or the next goal shows up.