Why I started getting up at 4 AM and decided to never go back

How I went from being the antithesis of a morning person to an early riser

We’re not so different, you and I

Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate, shall we? I am not what you’d call a morning person. I love me some sleep and I’m always on the lookout for a little more of it. In 32-years of existing on this planet, I have never been the type who could just sit up at the sound of a shrieking alarm and then go and hop into the shower like some sociopath or robot.

There was a time when I needed some serious Zzz’s if I was going to even attempt to function before 10 in the morning — coffee be damned. As a consequence, my morning routine, and I use the term very generously, was dedicated to the absolute minimum time necessary it took to get dressed, feed the animals, and grab a slice of toast on the way out the door.

This is how I functioned for 32 years and I was fine with that. At least I was before I had a kid and then changed careers. Going from working remotely to in-person again, I found that there was suddenly never time to work on any of my side projects, let alone contribute to the small army’s worth of sports blogs I write for. Oh, and that “one good book” I’ve got in me, the one I’ve incidentally been trying to crank out for more than a decade, began to seem like a distant, impossible dream. But who needs a life’s ambition and dreams, am I right?

All right, maybe a little different

“All right,” I hear you say, “so far so terrible. But tell me, how are you managing your general mental health and wellbeing?”

Let me put it this way. Do you remember that scene in Liar Liar when Jim Carrey is holding the pen in his office and trying with every fiber of his being to declare it is, in fact, red? Physically incapable of telling a lie, he goes into a spastic fit the way only Jim Carrey can as he wrestles with the now seemingly possessed hand. In the end, the pen scribbles the world ‘Blue’ all over his face and he’s forced to accept he cannot lie no matter his strength or will.

About like that. Because as it turns out…

The pen is rrrrrrrrrrooooyallll blueeeee.

My point, which I seem to have temporarily lost in an incredibly dated reference just now, is that there wasn’t time to fit in everything, which in turn stressed me out whenever I tried to do anything.

What I’m actually trying to say

Look, at the end of the day, I have a family who deserves my undivided time and attention. I am incredibly fortunate to have their love and support. It’s not enough to say “I’ll just work later tonight” because, even after my daughter goes to sleep, I need to be a present and caring partner to my wife. We can’t just lock in solely to the role of ‘Mom and Dad.’ I say ‘role’ because, as I tell my wife on a near-daily basis, we operate like the world’s greatest tag team. We are a singular unit of parenting prowess. Or maybe more like a two-headed humanoid mutant of ‘love and logic’ child-rearing. The question of which depends solely on our daughter’s temperament.

If I was going to find the time to write or research or focus on things that support my mental health, things like meditation, journaling, and reading, I needed to somehow find a few extra hours in the day. Seeing as I’m obligated to work for my employer between the hours of 8 and 5, at which time I go and pick up my daughter, the only option I was left with was *shudders* pre-5 AM.

Or as I once called it, the “Land Before Time”… But without the little cartoon dinosaurs and the bomb tree stars.

I won’t lie, the first week or two was rough. I would set my alarm for 4:30, all the while knowing I wouldn’t actually stagger out of bed until the third or fourth go-around about 5:15, at which point I would sit like a bump on a log at my desk and contemplate whether existence at such an ungodly hour could even be considered existence.

I drank coffee. I listened to music. I tried showering first thing. Then, because I was resentful due to the self-inflicted torture I was bestowing upon myself, I tried cold showers. That really improved my feelings toward myself. In actuality, it just made me want to crawl into my warm bed all the more, only then I wouldn’t even be able to sleep.

The solution

What finally did the trick was, aside from consistency, just 60 seconds of willpower, I found. That’s it.

If I could slide out of bed and commit myself to one, solitary minute of immediate action, I could ungunk a fair bit of that early morning mental sludge and begin my day.

Eventually, I settled on doing 10 pushups, followed immediately by downing a glass of cold water. Between the increased blood flow and the sudden shock of icy water down poured down the gullet, I could, reasonably, approach my day.

Now that I’ve learned how to chase away the grogginess of the early morning, I’ve found that window of time to actually be pretty great. The house is quiet and still. My almost-two-year-old isn’t running sprints up and down the hallway squealing impatiently for her breakfast or screaming in protest that we have to dress her before she leaves the house, and my wife is still asleep. My time is unbeholden to anybody but myself. It’s almost serene. Peaceful.

Generally, I begin by journaling, focusing on “output” rather than the “input” of email, social media, or any other information that might derail my train of thought. From there, I move to some light reading and then meditation, at which time I resume work on the book that, come hell or high water, I will publish one day.

I’ve toyed with the recipe here and there, doing some dynamic resistance yoga, knocking out a Duolingo lesson so I can convince myself I’m still actively trying to learn fluent Spanish, etc. The point is that, in the stillness, without the chaos and pressing need of obligations or immediate action, it turns out I actually *can* focus in the early morning.

Truly the revelation of our times, I know.

As good writing days began to stack atop one another, my once stuck-in-the-ditch story clawed its way back onto the main road and even started to pick up some momentum. I then realized I could carve out even more time just by watching one episode less of whatever show my wife and I are binging at night. That, in turn, allows for things like more writing, deeper meditation, and more in-depth learning via SkillShare or, I suppose, more Duolingo. It’s great.

For 32 years, I was about the furthest thing from a morning person you could meet, but I suppose that’s because, at the end of the day, I still had the time to do everything I needed to. When that was no longer the case, my only option was to evolve from an AM swamp monster into a… less groggy, more adequately caffeinated swamp monster.

Final thoughts

My wife and I laugh at how we used to think before our daughter was born that we just never had time for things. The weird thing is that these two or three hours in the morning have become some of my favorite of the day. I can focus unhurriedly on my well-being and just doing the things that resonate with my soul.

It’s become a non-negotiable start to my day, at least during the week. I’m not a total sociopath. Regardless, as surprising as it is to say it even now, I’ve actually become a morning person, and I have no plans on ever going back.