Lin Qiu

Respiration Neuroscientist

Hi, I am Lin. I am currently a PhD student at the University of Oxford researching how the brain works when it comes to breathing, understanding breathing signals and what makes us feel breathless. Read on to find out a bit more about me and what I am doing.

My story

Lin Qiu, at 6 years old, running freely through the park, full of energy and joy, wearing a dress.

Me at 6 years old, running freely through the park, full of energy and joy,

I come from a working-class family in a city in Southwest China. Neither of my parents went to college, but they are the most inspirational and eclectic parents who always encourage me to explore my interests beyond school. I started ballet when I was 4 and ended up dancing—contemporary and Chinese folk dance—for 18 years. I devoted almost all my weekends, holidays, and after-school time to training or performing on stage. I don’t dance anymore, but those years unexpectedly led me to my current passion for neuroscience.

Years of intensive dance training left me with severe injuries to my spine and hip, to the point where my mobility was affected in my early twenties, which means I couldn’t move around like I normally would. As I was recovering from those injuries, I started respiratory training and meditation, which helped me manage the pain and recover. That’s when I started wondering: how does the brain control pain and breathing? And can we train our minds to change how we experience these things?

After finishing my undergraduate in Beijing, China, I worked for a few years to save up enough to pursue neuroscience and psychology abroad. My journey took me to Europe, where I was the only Chinese student in my program in the Netherlands. I followed an unusual path there, moving from an undergraduate to a master’s program after ranking in the top 4% of my first-year class—something that doesn’t happen often in the EU system. Eventually, my path led me to Oxford.

Having always been known as “that dancer” in class and so accustomed to training in an indoor rehearsal room, I took the opportunity during my time at Oxford to explore other sports. One of my proudest achievements was conquering my fear of water and learning to swim properly. You may now find me almost every day at the Rosenblatt pool in Iffley, moving between the slow lane and medium lane. Mastering the ability to control my breathing underwater and stay calm became more than just a personal milestone—it gave me valuable insights into my research, particularly on the brain’s incredible flexibility in interpreting and adapting to bodily signals.

Along the way, I’ve learned how to adapt to new environments, cultures, and people from all kinds of backgrounds. It’s been a journey of constant growth and reinvention. I hope my story shows that no matter where you start, it’s possible to chase your dreams and find your own path.

My research

Lin wearing a face mask in the fMRI room at a hospital

For nearly a year, I was the only researcher working in the fMRIB building, navigating through one of the toughest periods of the COVID pandemic.

Have you ever noticed that breathing isn’t always entirely automatic, like your heartbeat or body temperature regulation? While breathing is typically linked to the lungs, many people experience breathlessness even when their lungs are perfectly healthy. Why did evolution preserve our ability to feel, evaluate, and consciously control our breath? This is what my research is looking to understand.

To help think about this, imagine the brain is a master conductor of a big orchestra, as well as a big prediction machine, having to constantly anticipate what’s coming next. Different parts of the brain are organized in a hierarchy, like sections of an orchestra, each with its role. The “top-down” signals—how we think and feel—interact with “bottom-up” signals from our lungs and muscles to control our breathing in a finely tuned performance.

For example, why can some people stay calm while holding their breath underwater, while others panic? Or why does our brain predict danger and make us breathe faster when we’re scared? My work explores how this back-and-forth prediction system helps regulate breathing—or sometimes causes it to go off track.

Lin wearing blue standing next to the 7T scanner

Standing next to the 7T scanner!

To study this, I use a really cool machine called an (functional magnetic resonance imaging) fMRI. It’s like a super-camera that takes movies of the brain, showing us which parts of the brain are working while we rest or while facing breathing challenges—like breathing through a straw. This shows me which parts of the brain are working during normal breathing and when we feel our breathing is under threat.

Since 2020, I’ve studied about 70 people who had COVID-19 and still feel breathless, tired, or foggy long after getting better. My research shows that their brains may handle signals from the body differently. This might also explain other symptoms, like feeling very tired or sad when experiencing Long-COVID.

What I’ve learned is that these problems aren’t just “in someone’s head” or because they’re more anxious people. There are real changes in the brain that we can measure. Understanding this helps scientists and doctors figure out how to help people feel better! My findings are paving the way for a better understanding of long COVID and similar conditions. My latest findings will be published soon, building on our recent work published in Brain.