Commusings: A Marvelously Suboptimal Meeting With My Biggest Fan by Jake Laub

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Dear Commune Community,

In mathematics and physics, the concept of singularity is a point where certain quantities become undefined.
 
Singularity is often attributed to the force of gravity, which becomes infinitely strong at the center of a black hole. It’s also applied to the theory of the Big Bang. At the very beginning – before you and me and squirrels and algae and earth – all the matter, energy, space, and time were compressed into a single point of infinite density and temperature. This is singularity. The laws of physics no longer apply. We can’t get our cognitive arms around it.
 
This can be frustrating because we love the empirical, for what we can measure, we can improve. And, indeed, Commune provides ample opportunity in this respect. We just released a course on biomarkers with our dear friend, Dr. Mark Hyman. We can test for everything: magnesium, Vitamin D, ALT, blood sugar, estrogen, and on and on. This new “Age of Agency” informs the quantified self, and it comes with all sorts of gadgets and rules and optimal zones.
 
But is there an un-quantified self? An aspect of life that is simply ineffable? Why do I get goosebumps when my eldest daughter looks up at me through dewy eyes? Why do I feel a gravitational pull akin to that of an iron core when Schuyler spoons me in bed?
 
There is a serendipitous fancifulness to life that we can’t put our thumbs on – a singularity. And we only know it when it shakes us out of dull care and kisses us on the lips.
 
In today’s essay, my co-founder and brother-from-another-mother, Jake, captures this essence beautifully while playfully mocking himself (and to some degree Commune and me). It is wonderful to learn and then apply — but also to remember that beauty comes in the spaces.
 
Effing the in Effable on IG @jeffkrasno.

In love, include me,
Jeff

• • •

A Marvelously Suboptimal Meeting With My Biggest Fan

A mostly fictional story by Jake Laub

“The Loop” as all the neighbors here call it, is exactly 2.6 miles roundtrip from my doorstep. It drops down Topanga Skyline Drive to Old Topanga Canyon Road, then winds back up to Skyline. It is exceedingly not flat (754 feet of total elevation gain) except for a small portion at the top near the driveway to Commune Topanga, where I live.

Commune hired me two years ago as an Assistant Performance Marketing Coordinator. I used to live in a studio apartment in Hollywood, but they evicted everyone and knocked down the building, so Jeff let me move into an A-frame cabin for the same rent. When there are retreats I stay with my mom in the city. 

During the week, though, no one is here. I like the quiet. I like my routine. I like walking the Loop and listening to Commune courses, which opened my eyes to how extremely suboptimal my lifestyle was in Hollywood. Ironic, given I am an Assistant Performance Marketing Coordinator.

Jeff loves to quote Stoic philosophers when he visits (he even taught a Stoicism course), and this one from Epictetus stuck with me: “How long are you going to wait before you demand the best for yourself?”

I have always demanded the best from myself at work, but not really for myself. That quote is from The Discourses, which was written in 108 AD. Well, now I have implemented what I call The Protocols, which have helped me lose 20 pounds and achieve a HbA1c of 5.4. 

The Loop is a big part of The Protocols. 

I’m almost 5’10” (177cm) tall so my goal of 10,000 steps per day equates to about 5 miles. I walk The Loop once in the morning and once in the evening. This amply completes all the rings on my Apple Watch, though three times per week I swap the afternoon walk for HIIT or strength training.

On The Loop I aim for a solid Zone 2 workout, which Jeff says we should be doing for 180 to 200 minutes per week and is characterized by 60% to 70% of your maximum heart rate, which for me as a 37-year-old male is between 110 and 128 beats per minute. 

I have also heard that Zone 2 means you can just barely have a conversation with someone while you exercise, but this is not a good metric for me as I never talk to anyone on The Loop. If a neighbor passes, I wave.

I’m midway up the hill on the way home, on pace with 75% of The Loop complete at 33:15:00, when a girl with a halo of black curly hair passes me on the other side of the road. I wave and she abruptly U-turns and breaks into a small-stepped, light jog to catch and then keep up with me. 

“Why do you have a piece of tape on your mouth?” she asks. “Or is that a sign that you don’t want to talk to people?” 

I speak through the sides of my mouth not covered by the tape: “It’s so I don’t mouth breath while I walk.”

I must be right at the edge of Zone 2, as it comes out kind of wheezy. 

“What?” prancing jogging girl says.  

“When you nose breath you generate more nitric oxide, which dilates your blood vessels. When you mouth breath you over breathe and pant. I heard it from Jeff.” 

“I still can’t hear you that well, but who is Jeff?” 

“Jeff is host of the Commune podcast on health and wellness. He recommends mouth taping for sleep, but I also use it for my Zone 2.” 

“What’s Zone 2?”

I look at my watch and eye the top of the hill. I have definitely slowed down. Suboptimal. 

“You also mouth breathe when you talk too much.” 

“Oh, OK,” she says, and is serendipitously distracted by a roadside patch of wild mustard flowers. I consult my watch — 40:00:36. Still reasonably on track. I glance back and see her biting off the waist-high flowers one by one, not using her hands, just following the long, swaying stems with her open mouth before neatly clipping them with her front teeth. Probably high polyphenol content.

The next day she’s there again. Her hair adds another four inches to her height, but still only comes up to my chin. She also has a small, well-shaped nose, freckles, and, evidently, strong legs.

She executes her U-turn and skips uphill to catch me. 

“What did you have for breakfast today?”

“I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.” 

“Maybe take your mouth tape off so I can hear you better.” 

I glance at my watch. 32:10:05. I am ahead of schedule, and Epictetus comes to mind again: Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens. I peel off the mouth tape and stick it to my wrist for later.

“I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“I’m usually hungry when I wake up. When will you eat breakfast?”

“11 AM. I stop eating at 7 PM so I have at least 16 hours between meals.” 

“I’m not sure that’s still breakfast, though you are indeed still breaking your fast. What will you eat?”

Another easy question, at least. I cycle through three different breakfasts, four lunches, and six dinners. This makes it easier to know the macronutrient ratio of each meal. It’s hard to hit 1 gram of protein per pound of body weight and also stay calorie neutral to my AMR (active metabolic rate). All this learned from a Commune course, of course. 

“1.5 cups of Greek yogurt, 1/2 cup of blueberries, 2 tablespoons of chia seeds, and a quarter cup of walnuts. 520 calories, 24.5 grams of protein.”

“I just bought an absolutely delicious pint of blueberries from the farmer’s market. I’ll admit I flirt with the farmer so he throws a few extra handfuls in my bag.”

Farmer’s market blueberries are absurdly expensive, but it’s an important fruit to purchase fresh and organic. I understand.

I glance at my watch and pick up the speed, my minimalist hiking shoes tap-tap-tapping a bit faster on the pavement. I realize she’s wearing open-backed Birkenstocks on an 8% grade, but doesn’t seem to notice the pace change.

Her petite nose takes in a little sip of air before she asks, “I’ve seen you out here every day, even before yesterday. Why do you like The Loop so much?” 

“This how I achieve 180 to 200 minutes of Zone 2 exercise per week and also hit my step goal of 10,000 steps per day.”

“Ah, I have heard of step goals,” she says, positively glowing with excitement. “Did you know that recommendation came from a 1960s Japanese marketing campaign? The number 10,000 in Japanese looks like a person walking and people thought it was a cute combination for marketing a pedometer, so it caught on. Everyone thinks there was a big study or something.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s still important to walk. Our hunter-gatherer ancestors walked at least five miles per day in search of food, which is equivalent to 10,000 steps or more. Some estimates based on modern hunter-gatherer societies put it as high as nine miles per day. The point is that we were made to walk.” 

“Ooh, miner’s lettuce!” she cries, and kneels by the side of the road.

I keep walking. 34:25:07 and a heart rate of 109 BPM. Only slightly suboptimal. 

The next day I don’t see Loop Girl on the incline and am on pace as I hit the final flat stretch before my turn onto Chamera Lane, my driveway. 

But there she is, just before the T-intersection, waving her arms wildly in a combo “come-here-and-be-quiet” motion. 

Intrigued but not entirely willing to stop, I adjust my trajectory two feet to the right to avoid her. Her waving becomes a bouncing dance that also includes pointing down Chamera.

Still at 4 miles per hour and only a few feet away from her, I re-adjust two feet to the left. She matches me. Then I see it. A massive mountain lion and two cubs, padding down Chamera Lane as if it were the Serengeti. 

I slow down just enough such that when I slam into Loop Girl she manages to wrap her arms around me and hold on without falling over.

I stand there, heart pounding, transfixed by the miraculous incongruity of lions on my street. 

They turn their heads to notice us, just briefly, and then lope off into a tangle of roadside manzanitas. 

My heart is beating hard in my chest. Instinctively I count for six seconds and multiply by 10. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 … 165 BPM. 90% heart rate. HIIT training is supposed to be this afternoon.

I take a four-count inhale with an eight-count exhale. The longer exhale should activate my parasympathetic nervous system and calm me down. But now I’m noticing another heartbeat.  Loop Girl is still holding me. I am still holding her. 

I count her heartbeat. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 … How old is she? My age? Younger? Does she have a target BPM for this walk?

Before I can do a rough calculation, she leans back and kisses me full on the lips. Our mouths open just slightly and our microbiomes mingle.

She hops back and laughs. “That was wonderful!”

I look at my watch. 47:30:17.

Sometimes the suboptimal is marvelously optimal. 

• • • 

P.S. The author Robert Louis Stevenson would often have the plots of his books presented to him in his dreams, sometimes in the form of watching a play or reading a book. This story came directly from a dream in which Commune teacher Dr. Zach Bush told me I needed to write a 1,500-word essay for class. I asked for a topic. It was clear he didn’t know, and he glanced around until his eyes encountered a big fan on the floor. “It should be about a big fan of yours.” In the dream, I thought to myself, “Aha, I can be clever with this,” and wrote the above essay.

At that point, I woke up. It was 3am. Every sense in my body said to get up and write it down. Every class I have watched on Commune says go back to sleep. I got up to write. Sometimes the suboptimal is optimal. I left my mouth tape on the whole time, though. 

P.P.S. Although this story is fictional, I did live at Commune Topanga for five years. The Loop is exactly 2.6 miles and takes me 45 minutes at a brisk walk. Yes, a mother mountain lion and her cubs walked down Chamera Lane and were filmed by a door cam. It is absolutely wild to watch. And yes, my wife Julia threw her arms around me and kissed me first. Very unexpectedly. It turns out our microbiomes are compatible.