At a quarter past five in the morning, I find myself strolling along my road, surrounded by buildings awash with the light of dawn. Proclaimed by efficiency expert Tim Ferriss, “Secure the morning, and you secure the day.” I have my eye on my reward: a warm oat-milk latte, a treat for stirring at ungodly hours.
Public transport has yet to commence, and the quietness accentuates sounds previously unseen. Strange cries of seagulls perplex me since my residence is in Camden, northwest London, nowhere close to the coastal area. These sounds are new in this vicinity.
Observing a peculiar drone from my neighbours’ gas meter, I question the need to inform them. Thinking better of it, I continue my walk towards the eerily quiet six-lane high street, where delivery vans and an occasional bus complement the solitude.
What’s striking about this early hour is the revelation that London is not a city that never sleeps. Corner stores that I presumed were always open are shut, with tags of graffiti on the shutters. Finally, signs of human presence – a man, swaying side by side, apparently on his way home after a long night.
By the airport coach stop, I pass three shift workers, distinguished by their lanyards and no belongings, aimlessly looking at the empty road. They look far from the sense of accomplishing the day.
As I continue, I come across a duo in matching grey Lycra, huddled over a phone screen outside the 24-hour gym. I assume they’re coordinating their workouts? I extend a jovial good morning, though they hastily move inside much like startled creatures.
My spirits begin to tumble as I find no coffee available at the closed cafes I walk by, prompting me to head towards some greenery for some meditation. Along the way, I notice a man in a hood walking in sync with me. Unease sets in and I decide to head back home. Is he tailing me? A glance back assures me that he isn’t. Maybe the lack of sleep is taking its toll on my sanity.
Seeking to join the ranks of premium beings who are part of the 5am club, I am endeavouring a week of extreme early mornings. This trend of rising with the chirping birds is growing considerably amongst celebrities and influential figures. A-listers including Jennifer Aniston, Jennifer Lopez and the Kardashians, all the way to tech heavyweights like Mark Zuckerberg from Facebook, Tim Cook of Apple, and Twitter’s founder Jack Dorsey, are all members of the reputed club. They’re joined by figures like Anna Wintour, Michelle Obama, and long-standing member, Gwyneth Paltrow. Paltrow shares her routine of a 5am wake up, starting with a 30-minute tongue scrape and Ayurvedic oil pull, before delving into 20 minutes of transcendental meditation and a dance workout designed by her friend, Tracy Anderson.
The trend of getting up exceedingly early hit the big time on social media, incited by Robin Sharma’s book, “The 5am Club”, along with other catchy titles like “The Miracle Morning” and “Power Hour”. Sharma’s mantra, “Own your morning, elevate your life”, has led to numerous satisfied folk, or rather, highly disciplined individuals, posting their impressive #5amClub routines.
The entire concept might seem a bit fantastical to a cynic. The belief is that doing this one simple act of rising before others can give you time to work out, eat well, and reach all your aspirations. Despite the wave of turmeric lattes, gratitude journals and sun salutations that hit me, I’m motivated enough to give it a shot.
While I wouldn’t exactly describe myself as an early riser, my perception of time went through a complete metamorphosis during the pandemic, as did many others’. Given no evening activities during the lockdown, staying awake late seemed unnecessary. As a result, I began waking up earlier. Besides, as someone who’s into photography, catching the sunrise for optimum light seems perfectly logical.
By the first month of 2021, I had started a project during the lockdown, which involved ascending Primrose Hill, near Camden Town, to capture the sunrise in my camera. The panorama pedestal on the hill contains a quote from poet William Blake that reads, “I have conversed with the spiritual Sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill.” The tranquil pale violet hue as I remained solitary amongst other sunrise enthusiasts felt akin to a spiritual encounter; the most profound I’ve had in London.
Though the habit of early rising persisted, the refreshing treks did not. Normally, I wake up at 6.30 am, no alarm needed. However, I’m not at my most energetic at this time. A heavy dose of instant coffee and 90 minutes of surfing the internet aimlessly is my routine before getting on with my work. So, would waking up at 5 am and adhering to a definite schedule augment my productivity and focus? I pledged to try it out for a week.
The evening preceding my experiment, I retired early to bed, at 9 pm, along with Sharma’s audiobook and quickly found myself in a deep slumber. My alarm, set to the raucous tune of Wake Up by Arcade Fire, rudely interrupted my sleep, startling my neighbour above in the process, prompting them into the 5 am club.
On waking, I made coffee and sat down on the sofa, only to recall that this was against the rules. I was required to adhere to the book’s 20/20/20 formula. From 5 am to 5.20 am, undertake vigorous exercises, followed by meditation and journaling for the next 20 minutes and finish the hour by reading or learning between 5.40 am to 6 am. Despite getting a full eight hours of sleep, I felt awful.
The gym was not an option; thankfully it was closed. I chose to meditate, which was a delightful experience, but 40 minutes in, I had nearly fallen back asleep. The overall feel was akin to waking up early to catch a flight; except that I didn’t have a flight to catch. It was anticlimactic and I was experiencing an unusual craving for food. My hunger rhythm seemed thrown off. I had porridge, toast, two pancakes, and a nut bar. By noon, I was nauseous and feeling unusually cold. Unfortunately, the day concluded in a haze of non-productivity.
The second day is considerably more difficult, owing to a dreadful night’s sleep, for reasons I cannot fathom. Jaded and bleary-eyed, I rise and drag myself into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, accidentally knocking over a container of oatmeal in the process. A colourful variety of Scottish expletives escape my lips before the loud bang of a door shutting resonates overhead. Brilliant.
I trudge towards my yoga mat, but the dizzying effects of the downward dog position prompt me to cease. My attempt to do some journaling fails; my only thoughts are pleading for the comfort of my bed. I complete a brief Duolingo session to fulfil my “learning” requirement, although I must admit the app’s vibrant-green owl isn’t the best companion in the wee hours of the morning.
With it being only 6 am, a long day waits ahead. Yet, my energy levels are so abysmal that I struggle to drag myself off the couch, let alone embark on a journey via the underground to get to work.
I make an effort to do some work, time ekes by at a gratingly slow pace. Suddenly, a peculiar sense of hopefulness washes over me. The reason; the realisation that bed-time is only five short hours away.
The third day fares no better, primarily as I oversleep till 8 am and suddenly recollect the obligation of a cross-town meeting. Needless to say, my gratitude journaling will have to be postponed.
Why is this so daunting, I wonder, and decide to discuss it with Russell Foster, the leader of the Sleep and Circadian Neuroscience Institute at Oxford University. However, he is more curious about the reasons behind my desire to join the 5 am club. His critique about the glamorisation of rising early is quite pointed.
A part of me wants to boast about having been awake for an entire six hours, but I choose to refrain, fearing it may evoke envy for my self-restraint.
There’s no inherent significance to rising at 5 in the morning. The apparent virtue of an early wake-up call goes way back to Benjamin Franklin’s aphorism, “Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” This sentiment just fuels the obsession with the work ethics, implying that work is virtuous, whereas inability or unwillingness to work assumes negativity. Furthermore, vigilance is considered commendable and productive, says Foster.
Several studies suggest that starting your day early can increase your happiness quotient and promote healthier eating. Nonetheless, Foster brings our attention to a significant drawback. He argues that in order to get adequate sleep, one needs to hit the bed by 9 pm. That, unfortunately, is not viable for most of us due to our demanding lives, be it helping children with their homework or managing household chores. Additionally, the noise from others around us can make it a struggle to fall asleep.
Interestingly, the staunch supporters of these schedules are usually individuals who have the finance for delegating everyday tasks. According to Foster, these are the sort of productivity experts and entrepreneurs who have the means to pay for assistance in routine activities. This schedule can be seen as a way of boasting or a kind of imposition on people who can’t afford it—they seem to say, ‘Look at me, I’m fabulous; why don’t you try to be more like me?’ The truth remains that the majority cannot afford to do so.
Despite Foster’s valid arguments, my interest in mastering an early morning routine remains unabated. Is it likely to become easier over time? Sleep psychotherapist Heather Darwall-Smith remains sceptical. “Our individual chronotypes, which dictate our internal clocks, reveal that some of us are certainly morning people while others are night owls,” she explains. Most people usually fall in the middle of this spectrum, capable of setting their sleep schedule to fall asleep at 10pm and naturally awake at 5am. But, that doesn’t suit everyone’s lifestyle. Let’s not overlook those who have their work schedules demanding them to wake up at 5am.
Upon reaching the fourth day of my experiment, I was irritable and unhappy. A pub visit had to be postponed due to the fact that an evening server of merlot doesn’t blend well with a break of day rising. My attitude had turned increasingly intolerable. When a colleague yawned around 11 in the morning, I couldn’t help but ask, ‘Late night?’. Though I was burning to spill the beans about my six hours of wakefulness, I held back to avoid any possible envy regarding my self-control.
The fifth day touched a new nadir. I overslept until 5.43 am and then consumed a salted caramel Magnum for breakfast as a trade-off for skipping the pub. The sixth morning had a better outcome. I was up against a deadline and the additional time was handy. The seventh day found me on a futile search for coffee and I understood that stepping outdoors does seem to invigorate and uplift me.
I opted for a chat with some everyday people who’ve managed to make the 5 am club a routine. Jenny Wilson, a colour therapy professional, emerges from her bed daily at 4.55 am. With her family still in slumber, she quickly showers before tiptoeing into her spare room to commence her day.
She refers to this as her magical hour because it ensures the remainder of her day goes smoothly. She has a strict routine – a half-hour yoga session followed by a 20-minute spell of meditation, culminating in her expressing her day’s intention out loud. “Upon completion, I am set to cook my kids’ breakfast and live my life – it gives a sense of achievement, as if I’ve already accomplished wonders before anyone else has even risen,” Wilson explains.
Probation officer Quynh Nguyen-Dang has upheld an early morning regimen since January, inspired by the book ‘The 5am Club’. Every day, she configures her smartwatch to buzz at 4.30am and then again at 5am. She steps into her exercise attire and drives to her nearby gym for a half-hour cardio session. “It’s a serene drive, completely peaceful. The other day I even paused to take in the view of the rosy cotton candy clouds,” shares Nguyen-Dang.
“When I’m at the fitness centre, I regularly catch up on my side fashion business emails and social media updates as I cycle. Time is a finite resource and this method helps me stay ahead of the game. It almost feels like an underground club. Every morning, I find the same set of women at the gym. Post workout, we queue up at the mirror, styling our hair and prepping for work.
However, such an intensive regime comes with a price. “By 9pm, I’m exhausted,” she confesses. “It saddens me when I deny social invitations post work but I tend to compensate by sleeping longer over the weekends.”
By the eighth day, I’m wide awake at 5.04am even without an alarm. The morning calls me. Do I leap out of bed to embrace the day? No, I choose to resume my previous wake-up routine, now with a rejuvenated focus. The past week has not been a futile exercise, far from it. It has made me realise the amount of time I was previously squandering, especially during early hours of the day. It’s not the time you rise that matters, but how effectively you utilise the minutes granted that really counts. – Guardian”