The Primal Blueprint (12 page)

Your impression of primal life might be negatively colored by sensationalized portrayals of precivilization humans as filthy, grunting savages dwelling in caves or by the harrowing vision of man potentially meeting his doom in the jaws of a beast or by the fangs of a snake. Unpleasant camping experiences (you know—too many mosquitoes, strange night noises, or no hot showers) might add to a dark vision of what it might have been like to live in hunter-gatherer times. Indeed, life was rough in many ways—much time and energy was devoted to getting food and other basic essentials that we take for granted. However, in many other ways—including the most simple and fundamental areas necessary for a healthy, happy life—Grok actually had it pretty good.

Ten thousand years ago, a time period coinciding with the ending of the last major ice age, the continent of North America was populated with small bands of hunter-gatherer tribes. Many theorize that this migration (probably driven by the tracking of big game herds) originated from Russia and moved very slowly eastward over dozens of generations across the Bering Land Bridge (which became submerged about 10,000 years ago) and then south into Canada and the United States. These tribes typically numbered 10 to 30 people comprising nuclear or extended families. While the average human life expectancy was about 33 in Grok’s time,
¹
if Grok had been able to avoid misfortune by accident, predator, or illness, his life expectancy would have increased dramatically.

Shortly after Grok’s time, the advent of agriculture drastically changed the nature of human life on earth and caused numerous markers of human health to steadily decline as previously mentioned. Matt Ridley, author of
The Agile Gene
, reports that average brain size in 50,000 B.C. was 1,567cc for males and 1,468cc for females. Strange as it may seem, average brain sizes today are 1,248cc for males and 1,210 for females, with the onset of the shrinkage closely related to the advent of agriculture.

Grok and his longtime mate have two children, a 12-year-old boy and a one-year-old girl. Two other children didn’t make it past infancy, a traumatic yet unavoidable part of life that the couple likely mourned deeply but from which they quickly moved on. Grok and his small band of 20 relatives live in what is now known as the great Central Valley of California. It’s a cool, moist climate supporting vast pine forests, owing to the lower mean temperatures of the era (mean earth temperatures have continued to rise over the last 10,000 years).

The gathering of berries and other fruit, leafy greens, primitive roots, shoots and other vegetation, nuts, and seeds provide the bulk of Grok’s food supply. Grok probably enjoys fish from nearby rivers, and hunts a variety of small mammals, such as beaver, rabbit squirrel, and mole. He might score occasional big game (mammoth, mastodon, bison, bear, lion, saber-toothed tiger, wolf, deer, and moose), but these animals are nearing the end of their era. He also enjoys the rich nutrition offered by various juicy, high-protein insects (remember, I said we’ll strive to model
most
of Grok’s lifestyle behaviors…).

Naturally, we’ll start our day with Grok’s family at sunrise. They awaken easily to the sound of birds chirping and begin their morning routine amidst the ageless singsong babble of a one-year-old. First things first—time to put together the morning meal. Grok’s mate provides the baby the most nutritious food ever known to humankind—breast milk. The baby will begin to eat solid food within a few months but will continue to rely heavily on breast-feeding for three years. This not only will provide nutrition for physical growth but will give her immune system a head start dealing with potential health issues her mother has already overcome.

Grok’s son will also enjoy a power breakfast. Because it’s now late summer, special treats abound in the form of fat grub worms and local berries in their narrow ripening window. The current bounty is a far cry from the severe reduction in their caloric intake the previous winter, caused by unusually heavy rains. Fortunately, Grok and his family had been able to tap into their genetic ability to efficiently mobilize their stored body fat and make up for the caloric deficits in their diet. The family had also adapted to their winter circumstances by sleeping more and reducing their daily activity level.

The son gladly handles the chore of picking a basket of berries and quickly returns to camp. After breakfast, they turn their attention to preparing items for their daily endeavors: tidying up woven storage receptacles, sharpening rudimentary weapons like spears, and packing food rations (mostly nuts and seeds) for their planned journey. Today they are going for a long walk, heading east toward the Sierra foothills to gather more berries and perhaps score some small game. Everyone is eager—even though the temperature will be warm and the walk will be longer than their typical daily wanderings—because they will get to enjoy a cool dip in a river at the midpoint of their journey.

After a nutritious breakfast, the family heads out, mother carrying the baby and the preteen keeping busy harassing squirrels with rocks. Arriving at the river, they feast on more berries and a few freshwater clams, sip clean water, and blissfully bathe, splash, and jump off rocks into the crystal clear and brisk river. Grok’s occasional brief exposure to cold water offers more than fun.
²
He doesn’t know it, but this activity is considered a “natural” healer that helps boost immune function and antioxidant defense, decreases inflammation and pain, and increases blood flow and lymphatic function, something particularly therapeutic for tired muscles.

After his splash, Grok lounges on a sunbaked rock. His eyes gradually begin to shut, and he nods off for a power nap. As soon as his eyes fully close, positive hormonal changes occur in Grok’s body.
³
Humans have adapted to obtain great benefits from even brief naps. One reason is the need for continued vigilance at nighttime against predators or other dangers made uninterrupted sleep difficult. Another is because the relaxed pace of primal life lends itself to afternoon shut-eye opportunities. Grok quickly drifts into the deepest, most restorative “delta” sleep cycle. Stress hormone levels are moderated and his brain chemicals are rebalanced, allowing him to wake up 20 minutes later refreshed and relaxed. The daughter takes the opportunity to doze off for far longer, even as she is hoisted up into her carrying sling as the family heads off.

Clad in skirts made of plant fiber and animal skin, the family moves effortlessly in bare feet over undulating terrain and makeshift animal trails. The ground is covered with rock and plant debris, including sharp burrs discarded by native plants, but they deftly cruise along for hours without so much as a cramp or stubbed toe. Even at 12, Grok’s son has already developed excellent cardiovascular endurance, muscle strength, and balance. And because a physically challenging life is routine to him, he probably doesn’t moan or complain about the length of the journey or the boredom factor (“Are we there yet?”). After all, no video games await indoors.… The parents pause on numerous occasions to teach him about native plant life, point out animal markings, and dispense other environmental lessons that will serve him well and keep him safe as he grows to assume evermore challenging and valuable hunter-gatherer responsibilities.

“
Typical of humans 10,000 years ago, Grok and his family are of similar height and weight (but with more muscle and less body fat) to a modern family
.
”

Typical of humans 10,000 years ago, Grok and his family are of similar height and weight (but with more muscle and less body fat) to a modern family. Grok sports a single-digit body fat percentage and the well-balanced physique of today’s Olympic decathlete. Pardon the expression, but Grok’s mate, by today’s standards, would probably qualify as a “hottie”. Her active
lifestyle gives her striking attributes of a ballerina, a gymnast, and an ironman triathlete rolled into one enviable primal physique.

While Grok initially had planned to return to their permanent settlement that same evening, he chats briefly with his mate to discuss a spontaneous change of plans—to rest for the day and camp out. Because expectations and complexities are so minimal in Grok’s life, the family easily goes with the flow of significant decisions like these without a second thought—this despite being unprepared for an overnight stay. It simply means a couple hours’ additional work to gather up materials and construct a temporary shelter, build a fire, and get some dinner. No worry—they are safe together and accepting of every circumstance nature brings them.

Grok and his son head out for a quick hunt. We’d be surprised how primitive their weapons are, but the duo are able to leverage their extraordinary intelligence and instinct about the natural world to quickly procure a couple of rabbits for dinner. Walking back to camp, their celebratory banter is rudely interrupted by the appearance of a brown bear, drawn by the smell and wishing to make an unfair trade of lives for rabbits. A surge of fight-or-flight hormones flood the bloodstreams of Grok and his son. Grok immediately delivers a stream of detailed instructions to his son (back up slowly, maintain eye contact, etc.). His son nods calmly, naturally stifling his instinct to scream or run in the interest of survival. Grok, seemingly fearless in the face of this menacing creature, calmly lays the rabbits down on the ground and carefully joins his son in deliberate retreat. The bear issues a couple of loud roars just to be sure everyone knows who’s boss, gathers his “kill,” and moseys along. For good measure, Grok and his son take off on a dead sprint for 60 seconds, until they are safely out of the predator’s sight.

Twenty minutes later, the fight-or-flight chemicals have worn off, the father-and-son debriefing is complete, and Grok arrives back at camp with empty hands and, most likely, a smile and shrug of the shoulders. This gesture epitomizes the requisite disposition for the uncertainty of primal life. It’s a coping mechanism we have hardwired into our genes: “Don’t worry, be happy.”

Grok’s mate has discovered some leafy green vegetation that they will eat raw or cook briefly over the campfire with a few wild potatoes. A computer analysis of the nutrient content of the food they consume, even without the rabbits, over the course of a typical month (a sufficient time period to account for the feast-or-famine realities of primal life and our graceful genetic ability to deal with it effectively) would reveal optimum levels of carbohydrates, protein, fat, vitamins, minerals, fiber, antioxidants, and other elements they need to sustain a lifetime of exceptional fitness and vibrant health. Similarly, if we were to draw Grok’s blood for laboratory analysis, this primitive human would likely come up a big winner by today’s health standards: he would be free of disease markers such as high C-reactive protein levels (indicative of undesirable systemic
inflammation); he would possess ideal levels of cholesterol, triglycerides, blood glucose, and insulin; and he would be free of common modern-day nutrient deficiencies.

After dinner, the family lingers around the campfire for perhaps an hour or two, relaxing, telling stories, and winding down the day as the sun sets. This routine of quality family time in the evening is likely more than today’s average working parents spend with their children in an entire week (families average 19 minutes together per day of time free from television and other distractions).
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As the sun sets, Grok and his family are ready for a good night’s sleep.

“
Don’t bother about being modern. Unfortunately it is the one thing that, whatever you do, you cannot avoid.

—
Salvador Dalí”

Our modern family, the Korgs (Korg is Grok spelled backward—fitting when you consider the Korgs’ dramatic departure from Grok’s simple, healthy lifestyle), live where Grok did in California’s Central Valley, in what is now known as Stockton. Stockton is a medium-sized, middle-income community located on the Sacramento River delta, only an hour’s drive from the metropolitan San Francisco Bay Area, which has a population of some seven million. The Korgs—and thousands of other families like them in bedroom communities outside the Bay Area proper—believe they have the best of both worlds: an “easy” commute to Bay Area salaries combined with affordable housing (Stockton’s median home price is several hundred thousand dollars less than most comparable homes in the Bay Area), less congestion, and good recreational, educational, and cultural opportunities. Ken Korg’s two hours a day in the car seem like a routine cost of living the American Dream.
⁵