Fashion stylist, transformational coach, public speaker, and entrepreneur Luke Storey joins HeadFirst with Dr. Hill to discuss his journey from fashion styles to life stylist, and how he uses himself as a guinea pig to evaluate different biohacking strategies.
Episode Summary
On a recent episode of my Head First podcast, I sat down with a guest who has spent two decades using himself as a test subject for nearly every health and performance intervention he could find. He runs a popular wellness podcast and built a career bridging esoteric practices and practical lifestyle design. We covered a lot of ground: meditation, cold exposure, neurofeedback, nootropic stacks, and the eternal problem of separating what works from what is sold to you with pretty language.
The interesting work in that conversation was sorting real mechanisms from marketing. That is the line I draw every day as a clinician.
How do you tell biohacking that works from biohacking that's marketing?
My guest put it well: he plays guinea pig, tries everything, and reports back. That is genuinely useful. The trouble starts when the people selling a device explain why it works using claims that are false.
Here is my filter. If someone tells me they have no explanation for why something reliably helps them, I will look at it. Subjective benefit is data. If someone tells me their device works because of "quantum" effects, or because it balances chakras through the third moon of some planet, I have already discredited the technology. Wrong reasoning means the person selling it does not understand what they are doing, and that disqualifies the explanation even if the device occasionally produces something real.
A few words function as marketing tells in this space. "Quantum," used by anyone who is not a theoretical physicist. "Detox," used vaguely. "Nonlinear," used as a selling point with no model behind it. I have a degree in neuroscience and I model nonlinear brain dynamics. When a neurofeedback company markets itself as "nonlinear" and cannot tell me what that means, the word is decoration.
The clearest example of the math failing: some systems claim to train brainwaves at 0.00001 Hz. The Nyquist sampling theorem says you need to sample for at least twice the length of the wave you want to measure. A theta wave at 4 Hz takes 250 milliseconds, so you measure for half a second to capture one cycle. A wave at 0.00001 Hz would take weeks to complete a single cycle. You cannot measure it in a 30-minute session, which means you cannot reward or inhibit it. When the math fails like that, the claim fails with it.
If you want a grounded place to start thinking about this space, I wrote a primer on biohacking intelligence and the broader biohacking topic page collects the rest.
What's the highest-leverage sleep intervention?
My guest had cycled through temperature control, blackout foam in the windows, and a stack of sedating supplements: GABA, tryptophan, kava, passionflower, lemon balm. He blends them into what he calls a knockout drink, which I do not recommend driving after.
The temperature work has real mechanism behind it. Core body temperature drops as you fall asleep, and a cooler sleep surface supports that drop. A water-cooled mattress pad does this without the energy cost of running an air conditioner all night.
The intervention that surprised him most was neurofeedback. When he came into my clinic with disrupted sleep, we ran a sleep protocol, and he reported sleeping straight through the night for the first time in a long while. That tracks with what I see clinically. Sensorimotor rhythm (SMR) training, which rewards 12 to 15 Hz activity over the sensorimotor cortex, improves sleep depth and continuity for many people. I wrote about the mechanism in detail in SMR neurofeedback and covered the broader picture in biohacking sleep.
The order of operations matters. Fix the brain's sleep regulation first, then tune temperature and light around it.
Why does cold exposure feel so good?
My guest does an ice bath or cryotherapy five days a week, sitting in 35 to 40 degree water for ten to twenty minutes. He built his own ice bath out of a chest freezer.
Two things happen here. The first is physiological recovery. Cold exposure after intense training reduces the buildup of inflammation and lactic acid, which is why he recovers faster than his training partners who are sore for days. There is a tradeoff worth knowing: Rhonda Patrick and others have shown that cold immediately after lifting blunts the inflammatory signal that drives hypertrophy. If your goal is recovery and reduced soreness so you can train hard again tomorrow, cold helps. If your goal is muscle growth, time the cold away from your lifting sessions.
The second effect is the one he values most, and it is a nervous system effect. When you get into very cold water, your sympathetic nervous system fires hard. Fight or flight. Your body is telling you to get out. With practice, you can override that response and drop into a parasympathetic state within seconds. That deliberate downshift, repeated daily, is a trainable skill. It teaches you that you have real control over your autonomic state. I unpack the circuitry of that override in biohacking fight or flight.
Cold air cryotherapy at 160 below for three minutes and an ice bath at 35 degrees are different experiences. Cryotherapy is fast and shallow, useful for a quick reset and a serotonin-linked mood lift. The ice bath penetrates to the core and takes longer to recover from, which is part of why it feels more impactful.
Do meditation and yoga actually change the brain?
My guest practices Vedic meditation, a mantra-based style related to Transcendental Meditation, twice a day for 20 minutes, plus Kundalini Yoga with its breathing and chanting. He cannot explain what Kundalini does mechanically, but he walks out changed.
Both produce measurable brain effects, though the styles diverge. Mantra-based concentrative practices and breath-heavy active practices generate different EEG signatures, and individual expertise often matters more than the technique label. Regular meditation produces structural change over time: thickening in prefrontal regions tied to emotional regulation and shifts in default mode network activity. This is well established.
The framing my guest's first yoga teacher gave him is the right one. The physical practice exists to settle the body enough that you can meditate. The poses support the stillness. That maps cleanly onto what we know about how these practices shift attention and self-regulation. I cover the neuroscience in biohacking meditation and the practical side in mindfulness.
He noticed the two practices sit at opposite ends of a spectrum: Kundalini energizes and Vedic meditation sedates. He meditates first to settle, then does the active work. That sequencing instinct is sound.
What does Alpha-Theta neurofeedback have in common with a float tank?
My guest compared his Alpha-Theta neurofeedback sessions with us to a float tank, and the comparison holds. Both produce a hypnagogic state, the liminal zone between waking and sleep where you genuinely cannot tell whether you were dreaming.
Alpha-Theta training rewards a shift toward alpha (roughly 8 to 12 Hz) and theta (roughly 4 to 8 Hz) activity, dropping you into that drowsy, deeply relaxed border state. A float tank, with no light, no sound, skin-temperature water, and the buoyancy of epsom salts, removes sensory input until your brain produces a similar state. Different routes, same destination: a deep, restful, mildly dissociated calm. For someone using these tools to de-stress through a hard stretch of life, that liminal state is the therapeutic target. You can read more about the brain's idle rhythm in decoding alpha waves.
Should you trust nootropic stacks and sleep supplements?
My guest ran an experiment cutting caffeine while testing a multi-ingredient nootropic stack. His genetic testing showed he is a fast caffeine metabolizer, which surprised him because he feels sensitive to coffee. The likely explanation is dose and preparation. A dark-roasted 16-ounce coffee can carry 250 to 300 milligrams of caffeine, against maybe 100 milligrams in a light-roast pour-over. Dark roasts also char off oils and shift acidity, which can drive the jittery feeling independent of total caffeine.
The serious caution from this conversation is about phenibut. Phenibut acts on GABA receptors and produces effects similar to alcohol: relaxation, sociability, sedation. The problem is the speed of dependence. I have seen and heard of people, including experienced users, become physically dependent within days. It behaves like months of heavy drinking compressed into a short window. My guest uses it only occasionally and cycles it deliberately, which is the only safe way to treat it, if you use it at all.
He also described a frightening episode with yohimbe, where he accidentally took far too much and spent four hours convinced he was heading for the emergency room with a racing heart, flushing, and a blood pressure spike. The interaction worth knowing here involves tyramine. Combine tyramine, found in aged cheese, smoked meats, wine, and chocolate, with an MAO inhibitor, and you can trigger a hypertensive crisis severe enough to cause stroke. Yohimbe at the wrong dose plus the wrong food is a genuinely dangerous combination. Small doses of potent compounds, attention to interactions, and respect for the fact that "natural" does not mean "safe" are the operating principles here.
If you are thinking about changing a habit rather than stacking a supplement, biohacking bad habits is a better starting point.
Where do I draw the line on alternative health devices?
My guest described an experience with a device combining pulsed electromagnetic field (PEMF) technology and a Rife-style frequency system, costing tens of thousands of dollars. He found it subjectively powerful during a high-anxiety day. I told him the honest version of where I stand.
Some of what gets lumped into "alternative" has real footing. PEMF, for example, is being combined with neurofeedback in legitimate ways. There are systems that deliver extremely low-voltage PEMF, in the picovolt range, to stimulate sites on the scalp, then measure the resulting EEG in real time and train on it. You push the EEG with stimulation, measure the response, and reward the change. That is mechanistically coherent.
Rife-style claims sit on the far side of my line, because the explanations attached to them do not match how the body works. The way through this is the experiment my guest proposed: get baseline labs, run the protocol for three months, and re-test. He is doing exactly that with his gut biome and with a heavy metal protocol.
That heavy metal protocol is worth a note. He has elevated lead, arsenic, and mercury on challenge urine testing and wants to avoid aggressive IV chelation, a reasonable instinct because chelating agents are hard on the body and can make you ill if mishandled. He is using citrus pectin, modified seaweed extract, and niacin-and-sauna flushes over six months with pre- and post-labs. I suggested adding weight-bearing exercise. The standard story is that lead binds calcium receptors irreversibly and lodges in bone forever, but bone is dynamic tissue, constantly turned over by osteoclasts and osteoblasts. Stressing the bone may increase that turnover and help mobilize what is stored. That is extrapolation on my part, but it is testable, and he has the lab framework to test it.
Measure, intervene, measure again. That is the right way to engage uncertain interventions.
Where does neurofeedback sit on the evidence spectrum?
Neurofeedback is reasonably well evidenced, especially compared to most of what circulates in the wellness world. I am not religious about my tools. I am religious about the science behind them. I use the protocols I use because they work for sleep, anxiety, and self-regulation, and because the mechanisms hold up.
I have tried and set aside other stimulation technologies. Low-energy systems that pulse along scalp sites work well for traumatic brain injury and structural damage, but they underperform for sleep, anxiety, and the regulation problems most of my clients bring me. The tool follows the problem.
If you want the grounded overview, start with is neurofeedback legitimate, and if you are wondering what training actually looks like, QEEG brain mapping explains the assessment that comes first. The neurofeedback topic page collects the rest.
The honest takeaway
My guest and I land in a similar place from opposite directions. He is willing to try almost anything and report the subjective result. I want the mechanism and the data. Both matter. Subjective benefit tells you something is happening. Mechanism and measurement tell you whether you should trust the explanation and spend the money.
If you are going to operate in this space, keep three habits. Get your baseline measured before you start. Treat potent compounds with real caution and watch for interactions. And when someone explains why a device works, check whether the explanation holds mathematically and biologically. If the reasoning fails, walk away regardless of how good the demo felt.
You can find my guest's wellness podcast under the name The Life Stylist. For the brain work, start by getting a map of what your brain is actually doing, then train from there.