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Probiotics, Fibroids & Reclaiming My Health
The Weekly Dose - Episode 128
My Sleep Routine:
A Scientific, Slightly Obsessive Breakdown...
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I used to think sleep was just something that happened to you. Like aging or regretting things you said in 2012. But turns out, good sleep is a skill...one that requires precision, discipline, and, if you’re like me, an unshakable insistence on catching the last train home before your sleep schedule collapses like a poorly built Jenga tower.
The core of my routine: timing is everything
I now go to bed between 10:30 and 11 PM every night. Every. Night. Because (fun fact) your body is a predictability-obsessed machine.
The suprachiasmatic nucleus (SCN) in your hypothalamus is essentially your brain’s circadian overlord, regulating sleep, wakefulness, hormones, and the fragile sense of order in your life. If you keep changing your bedtime, you’re basically gaslighting your own biology. Regularity is key.
Why I ditched late-night workouts
I used to hit the gym late. Thought it was fine. Until I started tracking my sleep with an Oura ring and noticed something disturbing: elevated core body temperature and heart rate for 1-2 hours after evening workouts, making falling asleep feel like waiting for a dial-up connection to load in 1999.
Why? Because exercise increases core body temperature, adrenaline, and sympathetic nervous system activity (aka fight-or-flight mode)...great for deadlifts, terrible for dozing off. Your body needs to cool down before it can transition into sleep.
Solution: No intense workouts after 8 PM. If I exercise in the evening, it’s a casual fart walk after dinner. That’s it.
Tracking my sleep: an accountability mirror I can’t escape
I never used to track my sleep; I figured - I feel tired, therefore I must have slept poorly... Turns out, feelings are not data.
Now, I track everything I can get: HRV, body temp, latency, deep sleep, REM cycles; all things I never thought I’d care about but now obsess over (healthily!)
Do you need an Oura ring? No. Use whatever works—Whoop, iPhone, a good old-fashioned notebook where you manually record ‘I slept like trash’ and reflect accordingly. The point is, tracking keeps you accountable. When you see the numbers, you want to improve them. At least, that’s how my mildly competitive brain works.
The London train rule: no more late-night chaos
If I go to London, I now refuse to take a late train home because if I get back past 10 PM, my entire wind-down process collapses, and the next morning I wake up feeling like a crypt keeper.
Wind-down is sacred. Your brain needs a signal that it's time to switch from productivity mode to hibernation mode. Mine involves:
Dim lights (because melatonin hates blue light).
No heavy social media scrolling (doomscrolling is just stress in disguise).
Zero caffeine post-2 PM (yes, even if you think you’re “not sensitive” to it—adenosine receptors beg to differ).
Sleep scientists will tell you that winding down is a Pavlovian process...the more consistent the signal, the more reliably your brain shifts into sleep mode.
No food 90 minutes before bed (and the science behind it)
Eating late = bad sleep. Here’s why:
Core body temperature rise:
Digestion is metabolically active so your body heats up while breaking down food.
Sleep onset requires a drop in core body temp. Rising temp = delayed sleep.
Gastric emptying & acid reflux:
It takes ~90 minutes for 50% of food to leave your stomach (longer for high-fat meals).
Lying down too soon after eating = acid reflux risk skyrockets because your lower esophageal sphincter is not gravity-resistant.
Food suppresses melatonin:
Tryptophan → serotonin → melatonin conversion gets delayed after eating
Melatonin is supposed to rise naturally at night—not get sabotaged by your midnight snack.
Moral of the story? Eat earlier, sleep better.
You don’t just "get" good sleep; you build it, refine it, protect it. And when you do, everything in life just works better.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a 10:30 PM bedtime to defend (writing this on Saturday night at 9pm!)
Fermented Foods vs.
Probiotic Supplements:
The Microbial Showdown
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Fermented foods are often hailed as gut health superheroes, but let’s get one thing straight: comparing them to probiotic supplements is like comparing a medieval apothecary to precision medicine. Both can be useful, but one is a bit more… chaotic.
Sure, diet is the foundation of health...if your gut microbiome is a microbial metropolis, your diet is urban planning. Feed it well, and you build a thriving ecosystem. Feed it junk, and you get microbial anarchy. To support the gut, prebiotic foods (which fuel your beneficial bacteria) like onions, garlic, and bananas are a great start. Meanwhile, fermented foods like natural yoghurt, sauerkraut, kefir, kombucha, and kimchi deliver live cultures, but here’s where the comparison starts to crumble like an overripe tempeh:
The great fermentation lottery
Unlike probiotic supplements (we’re talking high quality, researched backed ones), fermented foods are microbial lucky dips. Their bacterial content fluctuates wildly, changing with every batch like the unpredictable UK weather. The temperature, fermentation duration, storage conditions—these all shape which bacteria survive and how many make it into your gut alive. This means:
One jar of sauerkraut might be bursting with lactobacilli.
Another might have… well, more cabbage than culture.
And kombucha? That’s a wild ride of bacteria, yeast, and sometimes the spirit of a long-forgotten hippie.
This variability means you never quite know what you're getting—unlike a high-quality probiotic supplement, which delivers specific strains at clinically studied doses.
Why probiotic supplements still matter
While fermented foods are a valuable part of a gut-friendly diet, they aren’t a reliable form of targeted probiotic therapy. There are certain health outcomes that require specific probiotic strains, which aren’t always present (or consistent) in fermented foods.
Examples include:
Dealing with traveler's diarrhoea? Saccharomyces boulardii has been clinically studied for that. (PMID: 11244696)
Constipation related to IBS type C? Bifidobacterium lactis BB-12 has evidence behind it. (PMID: 21977388)
Antibiotic-associated diarrhoea? Lactobacillus rhamnosus Rosell-11 and Lactobacillus acidophilus Rosell-52 have been shown to help (PMID: 18616887)
Now, try eating fermented foods in large enough quantities to match those doses. Spoiler: you’d have to eat an entire village’s worth of kimchi, and at that point, your social life would be over as well as your supply of toilet roll. Having said this...most people do NOT need a daily probiotic. I don’t currently use any probiotic supplements but I was camped in the toilet a few months ago after a 2 week course of antibiotics for a chest infection I partook in some clinically evidenced probiotics
TLDR...
Fermented foods are great—they contribute to microbial diversity and gut health. However, sometimes probiotic supplements could be necessary for specific, targeted benefits backed by clinical research.
The ideal strategy? Eat fermented foods as part of a healthy diet, but if you need specific (I can’t emphasise this enough!) health outcomes, invest in a quality probiotic supplement with well-researched strains.
Because while throwing random bacteria at your gut is fun, sometimes, precision beats chaos.
P.S Learn more about gut health in my book:
The Gut-Muscle Connection...
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If you care about muscle growth, maintenance, or even just not turning into a brittle breadstick with age, then you should care about fibre. Yes, that thing you probably associate with pooping regularly. Turns out, fibre is far more critical than we give it credit for... not just for digestion, but for muscle health itself!
Why? Because your gut microbiome and your muscles are having a conversation—a biochemical gut-muscle crosstalk that scientists are only just beginning to decipher. Think of it as an underground communication network between your gut bacteria and your muscle tissue, exchanging molecular gossip about inflammation, nutrient metabolism, and how well you’re recovering from that last deadlift session.
What we know so far
Most of the research on the gut-muscle axis has been done in mice; which is useful for asking interesting questions, but obviously, we are not mice. That being said, some compelling human studies are starting to paint a clearer picture.
Interesting study 1: Sarcopenia and the microbiome (PMID: 33633246)
One study examined fecal samples from 60 healthy individuals and 27 individuals with sarcopenia (age-related muscle loss). They found:
Those with sarcopenia had fewer bacteria that produce short-chain fatty acids (SCFAs)—these are compounds that help maintain muscle mass.
They had higher levels of pro-inflammatory bacteria, which spew out molecular grenades that interfere with protein synthesis and muscle repair.
Overall, their gut microbiomes were less diverse, which is a massive red flag for health in general.
Translation? A compromised microbiome might actively sabotage muscle maintenance.
Interesting study 2: prebiotic fibre & strength gains (PMID: 27314331)
If you thought prebiotics were just for digestion, think again. In a double-blind, placebo-controlled clinical trial, participants received prebiotic fibres (inulin + FOS) for 13 weeks.
The result?
Significant increase in hand grip strength—a reliable marker of overall muscle function.
No, they didn’t just get better at squeezing things; hand grip strength is correlated with longevity, functional independence, and overall muscle health.
Interesting study 3: fibre & physical performance in 2,680 Adults (PMID: 24244650)
In a large epidemiological study, researchers looked at the relationship between fibre intake and physical performance in 2,680 older adults. The takeaway?
Those who ate more fibre performed significantly better on physical function tests.
This wasn’t about protein or calories—it was about fibre intake being linked to better muscle function.
Essentially, those who ate more fibre moved better, functioned better, and were probably less likely to make that old-man groan when standing up from a chair.
How does the microbiome “talk” to your muscles?
Your gut bacteria aren’t just passive residents inside you—they are molecular alchemists, producing compounds that directly affect your muscles:
E.g Reducing exercise-induced stress & inflammation
Certain gut bacteria produce antioxidant and anti-inflammatory compounds that help counteract the oxidative stress from exercise.
Less inflammation = less muscle breakdown and better recovery.
SCFAs (Short-Chain Fatty Acids) & muscle metabolism
SCFAs like butyrate help improve insulin sensitivity, making it easier for muscles to absorb glucose for energy and repair.
They also appear to promote anabolic (muscle-building) pathways, essentially helping you get more out of your workouts.
Aiding protein synthesis
While protein is important, chronic inflammation caused by a bad microbiome can interfere with muscle protein synthesis.
A balanced gut helps keep inflammation in check, meaning your muscles actually get to use the protein you consume effectively.
So...don’t be a fibre-deficient gym rat
Protein gets all the love in the fitness world, but it’s only one piece of the puzzle. If you’re consuming 200g of protein a day but neglecting fibre, you’re essentially pouring premium fuel into a car with a broken engine.
Pro tips:
Eat prebiotic-rich foods: onions, garlic, leeks, bananas.
Get fermentable fibres from things like oats, legumes, and resistant starches.
Consider a high-quality prebiotic supplement if needed (as backed by the grip-strength study). It has prebiotic properties and my go to favourite is psyllium husk.
Muscle health isn’t just about how much chicken and whey you can consume—it’s also about how well your gut supports your muscles.
So eat your fibre. Your future self (the one effortlessly getting out of chairs at 80) will thank you.
P.S if you want more deep dives on interesting topics check out my podcast here:
P.PS I’ve also made a separate Instagram account where I will cover all things gut & microbiome to give you regular easy actionables to improve your gut health:
Should I get a full-body MRI?
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The people have spoken...i.e you!
I recently ran a poll on my Instagram stories asking whether I should get a full-body MRI scan and share the experience. Out of 100,000+ votes, a staggering 91% of you said YES. Apparently, my audience enjoys living vicariously through me as I willingly climb into a giant, claustrophobic tube to be scrutinized at a subatomic level.
Now, I’m considering this as part of my Dr. Karan 2.0 project—where I investigate the science of optimizing health, testing procedures, scans, supplements, and interventions to see whether they actually provide tangible benefits or just serve as expensive existential crises wrapped in medical-grade hype.
My longstanding hesitations (Aka, why this might be a terrible idea)
Full-body MRI scans sound futuristic and cool, but they come with a few massive caveats:
They’re expensive – Like...damn-I-could’ve-bought-a-holiday-instead expensive. And unlike a holiday, they don’t come with tan lines and happy memories—just a PDF of medical jargon and potential mild existential dread.
They can provoke unnecessary health anxiety – When you go looking for trouble, you usually find it. Full-body MRIs scan everything, and humans are flawed meatbags full of harmless abnormalities. But the minute you slap an MRI report on them, suddenly it’s “OMG, what’s that??”
False positives & incidentalomas – You know what sounds terrifying? A “finding.” But not all findings matter. MRI scans are really good at picking up things that are completely irrelevant to your health, like:
A 2mm Bosniak cyst on my kidney? I wouldn’t lose sleep.
Gallstones but no symptoms? No need to panic—10–15% of the population has them and never knows.
The problem? Most people don’t know what’s serious and what isn’t. So, you get cascade testing—one pointless scan turns into more scans, biopsies, blood tests, and next thing you know, you’re stress-Googling at 2 AM, convinced you’re days away from The End.
The other side: why I might actually do it
Scientific curiosity & experimentation – This is purely for the sake of knowledge. I’m not expecting a profound revelation about my health, nor am I hoping to uncover a ticking time bomb. It’s more of a “what’s under the hood?” moment. Mildly exciting and scary
A bit of fun (yes, really) – As much as scanning my insides for random anatomical quirks isn’t exactly a theme park ride, I think it’s fascinating to demystify medical technology.
Could highlight real issues (but with context) – If I did find something actually concerning (a significant aneurysm, a dangerous tumor), that’s obviously useful information. But, that’s not the norm—most people’s scans come back with a laundry list of medically meaningless findings.
Would I do this again?
Absolutely not (unless I needed to). This is a one-time thing, purely for exploration. No one needs a full-body MRI on a whim. Medicine is about treating symptoms and concerns—not fishing for problems that may not exist.
So, I’ll go in fully informed, prepared to take incidental findings with a mountain of salt, and share the experience with all the nuance it deserves. Because in the world of modern medicine, just because we can scan everything, doesn’t mean we should.
What I Wish I Knew In 2014...
Recently I explained to you about my personal project, Dr. Karan 2.0...aka my attempt at outrunning time (and bad life choices)
Somewhere between work, life, injuries, and the general chaos of existing, I realized I had stopped making time for myself.
2024 was a mess—not in the way that my life was falling apart (objectively, I was doing well), but my health? My body? Different story. I was busier than ever, constantly plugged into work, and somehow had less energy despite being in a field where I literally tell people how to be healthy. I wasn’t sleeping enough, wasn’t working out enough, wasn’t moving like someone who still had a spine with all its original factory settings.
Then there were the injuries—the reminders from my own body that it wasn’t as forgiving as it used to be.
It hit me hard that if I didn’t actively reclaim my health now, I’d pay for it later. Not in some distant, hypothetical, “oh no, I might gain a few pounds” way—but in the real, tangible sense of waking up one day in my 50s and realizing I’ve lost the ability to do things I once took for granted.
So here we are. Dr. Karan 2.0. Not a rebrand, not a mid-life crisis (yet), but a deliberate decision to prioritize my health again—not just for myself, but because I know so many of you are struggling with the same thing.
And along the way, I get to do what I do best: debunk, demystify, and break down the science of health optimization. I’ll be navigating what actually works, what’s overhyped nonsense, and most importantly, how to make this sustainable without turning into a wellness cultist.
Why exercise is the closest thing we have to a miracle drug (and yet we avoid it like mouldy jam)
A workout is an investment in your future self—physically, mentally, emotionally. If it were neatly packaged into a pill, we’d all be popping exercise capsules every single day. But it’s not—it requires effort, discipline, and the ability to argue with your own brain when it tells you to stay on the couch.
And I’m guilty of this too.
Even back in university, I had days where I just couldn’t be bothered. I skipped a few (many) lectures and usually ended up doing one of two things:
Smashing an hour in the uni gym.
Playing Football Manager for an obscene amount of time.
For six years, this was my cycle. And by the time I graduated in 2014, I was strong, fast, pain-free, and mentally sharp. No six-pack (because I also loved food), but I felt good.
Then work took over. Slowly, subtly.
Then the pandemic happened. Routine collapsed.
The gym became an afterthought, a “luxury” I thought I didn’t have time for.
And now? I refuse to let this slide any further.
This isn’t about aesthetics. This is about future me.
I’m not doing this for content, popularity, or to look a certain way. This isn’t some desperate pursuit of abs at 34. This is about:
One day, being able to wrestle my future kids without throwing out my back.
Keeping up with Shadow (my dog) when he decides to go feral in the park.
Not groaning every time I get up from a chair in my 50s.
Reducing my future morbidity, so I can actually enjoy old age instead of merely surviving it.
Because health isn’t about avoiding death—it’s about preserving life.
So consider this my battle cry (or maybe just a reluctant, tired sigh of acceptance):
Things need to change, and they need to change now.
Dr. Karan 2.0 isn't about becoming a different person. It's about reclaiming the version of myself that I should have never let slip away.
You can follow along in my journey here:
Fibroids: The Uterine Freeloaders Nobody Talks About...
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For something that affects up to 70–80% of women by the age of 50, fibroids don’t get the press they deserve. Instead, they exist in a medical blind spot, quietly wreaking havoc while most people remain blissfully unaware of their existence—until, of course, they show up an uninvited like a houseguest that never leaves.
Fibroids are muscular, fibrous growths in the uterus. “Benign”, doctors say, as if that somehow makes them less of a nuisance. True, they’re not cancerous, but that’s a bit like saying, “Don’t worry, this unwanted guest in your house isn’t trying to kill you—just rearrange all your furniture and occasionally set things on fire.”
They can appear inside the uterine wall (intramural), outside the uterus (subserosal), or inside the cavity where a baby would grow (submucosal). The problem? No matter where they decide to take up real estate, they all have one thing in common: chaos.
The symptoms: why fibroids are the uterus's worst roommates
Heavy periods – We’re not talking about “Oh, I might need to change my tampon a bit earlier today.” We’re talking about “I should really start buying my pads in bulk.”
Pelvic pain, back pain, and an eternal dull ache – Like being punched in the abdomen by an unseen force that has a personal vendetta against you.
Bladder and bowel pressure – Because why just torment your uterus when you can also mess with your ability to pee normally?
Bloating and an enlarged abdomen – Ever had someone ask when you're due when you’re not pregnant? Fibroids can make that happen.
Pain during sex – Because, of course.
Despite these symptoms, many women go undiagnosed for years, either because they assume their symptoms are “just how periods are” (spoiler: they’re not), or because society is still shockingly bad at acknowledging menstrual health. And if you happen to be a woman of colour? Even worse—fibroids disproportionately affect Black women, yet they remain severely underdiagnosed and undertreated in this group.
Why do fibroids even exist? Science doesn’t quite know, but they sure love estrogen
If you’re looking for someone to blame, you can point a finger at genetics and hormones.
Family history? Bad luck.
High estrogen and progesterone levels? Congratulations, you’ve just provided fibroids with their favourite fuel source.
Pregnancy? Perfect growing conditions. Like watering a plant, but significantly less cute.
Fibroids feed off estrogen and progesterone, which is why they tend to grow larger during pregnancy and shrink after menopause when hormone levels drop. However, because life is unfair, even postmenopausal women aren’t necessarily in the clear.
Diagnosis: the surprise you didn’t ask for
Most women discover fibroids by accident—perhaps during a routine ultrasound or while investigating why their periods resemble an Olympic-level endurance test. An ultrasound is the go-to method, but if doctors really want to get a closer look at the chaos inside your uterus, an MRI can provide higher-resolution imagery of the fibroid apocalypse.
Treatment: From “let’s monitor it” to “let’s burn it all down”
Your approach depends on two things:
How bad your symptoms are.
Whether you plan on having kids.
For smaller or asymptomatic fibroids:
The “wait and watch” method—essentially keeping tabs on them while hoping they don’t stage a full-scale rebellion.
For symptom management:
Medications like gonadotrophin-releasing hormone (GnRH) agonists (e.g., Goserelin) work by shutting down estrogen and progesterone production, essentially forcing you into a temporary, reversible menopause.
Downsides? Hot flashes, bone density loss, vaginal dryness etc. Not exactly a fun list.
Newer medications:
The recently approved GnRH antagonist Linzagolix works similarly but with fewer hormonal side effects, meaning it could be used long-term without making you feel like you’ve fast-tracked into menopause overnight.
Surgical options:
Myomectomy (fibroid removal) – Ideal if you want to keep your uterus intact.
Hysterectomy (removal of the uterus) – The only permanent solution, but not exactly ideal if you’d like to, you know… use your uterus later.
Uterine artery embolization – Essentially cutting off blood supply to the fibroids, causing them to wither away. Like ghosting, but for tumors.
Why fibroids deserve more attention
Despite affecting millions of women, fibroids remain under-discussed, underdiagnosed, and—frankly—underappreciated for how much havoc they can wreak. Menstrual health is still wrapped in stigma, meaning too many women suffer in silence, convinced that heavy bleeding and crippling pain are just part of the “normal” experience of having a uterus.
They’re not.
So, if your periods are debilitating, your abdomen feels like it’s staging an uprising, or you’re constantly exhausted from losing half your blood supply every month—get checked. Fibroids aren’t fun, but neither is pretending they don’t exist.
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