Waking up at 5 am turned me into the CEO of afternoon slumps
And this is how it went
There was a time when I believed I was untouchable. In my 20s, I could stay up all night, whether it was out dancing with friends or having a quiet evening with a horror film and an entire tub of popcorn. And I would still wake up the next day fresh-faced and ready to tackle college or work like it was nothing. Sleep? Optional. Tiredness? Hadn’t heard of it. I was in the 5 am club then too, except that I wasn’t waking up but rather sleeping at that hour (sometimes).
Then came my 30s—and a very rude awakening.
The exhaustion started to linger. My energy felt like it was on loan, and no amount of coffee could bring me back to life. I realised that my long-standing love affair with late nights was beginning to sour. I wasn’t thriving anymore, I was barely functioning.
I wanted a better life. A life where I wasn’t always racing against the clock. A life where mornings weren’t a blur of alarms, half-eaten toast, and mild panic. So when I told my editor that I wanted to be more intentional with my time and maybe stop waking up exactly 30 minutes before I needed to be somewhere, she suggested I try joining the 5 am club.
Yes, that club. The one Robin Sharma wrote a whole book about. The one Oprah Winfrey and Ankur Warikoo, and a hundred other high-functioning humans claim changed their lives. The philosophy behind this club is that using the early hours of the day well and with intention—whether for exercise, meditation, or just taking time for yourself—can set the tone for the rest of it. Warikoo meditates, reads books, goes to the gym and does more in the first few hours of the day, than I do in a week.
I’m the kind of person who discovers her “me time” at 12:30 am and promises herself just one more episode, one more reel, one more chapter. I have been a veteran member of the revenge bedtime procrastination club, which is all about reclaiming time for yourself when you’ve had none during the entire day and while doing that, delaying your sleep time further.
But slow mornings were on my 2025 vision board. I wanted to try. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the change I needed.
So I set out to become a 5 am person. Here’s what happened.
Day 1: The (almost) early bird
I did everything I could to prepare: went to bed by midnight (but could only fall asleep by 1 am), set multiple alarms, whispered affirmations into the darkness. But when morning came, it was like my body went on strike. I snoozed through the din of all my alarms and finally cracked open one eye at 5:45 am. Not a victory, yet not a total failure either. I pulled myself out of bed, took a shower, had chai with rusk, and paced around my living room like someone trying to remember what ‘awake’ felt like.
By 7 am, I didn’t know what to do with myself or how to use all this extra time I had now. I decided to lie down just for five minutes. Out of all the lies I tell myself, this one always feels true.
Cut to 8:30 am, I woke up again, deeply groggy and vaguely disappointed. The day went on, but I wasn’t fully in it. I drank three cups of coffee just to not feel like a zombie forced into employment by capitalism. I reached work, feeling like my brain had fogged up like a cold winter morning. I kept bumping into doors, struggled to keep my eyes open, and started feeling fatigued. Even writing felt difficult, like my brain had just ceased producing the creative juices I had built my entire career on. I swore to myself, if I had to do it, I had to get in more hours of sleep.
After reaching home from work, I was cranky, tired, sleepy, and ready to crash. But somehow, after dinner, right when I decided to sleep, my body said no. This is also one of the top reasons for my perennial sleep debt. I tend not to fall asleep on time at night, even if I have had very few hours of rest the previous one.
Finally, I gave in and drank melatonin tea, hid my phone, and lay down with full determination that the next day would be better.
Day 2: Small wins, big stretches
To give myself an extra boost, I had also booked the trial morning yoga class I’d been avoiding for weeks. I’m in that era of life where physical movement feels essential to my well-being, and yoga (here are a few beginner-friendly yoga poses you can do at home) felt like the balanced way to centre myself, physically and mentally for the day ahead. I woke up at 6 am. I sat in bed for at least 20 minutes, contemplating my life choices because I was still not used to waking up before 8 am.
Eventually, I got up, got ready, and left for the class, just 10 minutes away from my home. And honestly? By the time I reached there, the excitement of finally doing something I wanted to for a while made me feel better. I was still a little sleepy when the class began but with each stretch, my brain felt more awake. There was something deeply healing about moving my body before the noise of the day began. I felt happier to be doing something to nourish myself and not just be in a survival mode. I came home, skipped the nap, got a healthy breakfast, and got to work. Sure, I felt the familiar afternoon slump, but this time it was manageable. A little bit of caffeine, a little bit of motivation, and a sense of accomplishment (even if it was a small one) helped me sail through, without getting cranky or losing my productivity.
That night I crashed at 12:30 am, which is earlier than usual for me. But I assume, it was that feeling of having used the day in a way I wanted, and to do something for myself, that made me not need any defensive bedtime procrastination. That felt like something I could get used to.
Day 3: Reality reset
The thing about experimenting with your sleep schedule? Your body always has the final say.
By day 3, mine was done. The sleep debt was maxed. I was also feeling a little under the weather, and I just wanted to rest it out. I ignored my alarms like I ignore relatives who ask me when I will give them “good news” at weddings, and slept through until the one that rang at 7 am. I still felt foggy, cranky, and like I was catching a cold.
Torn between discipline and kindness to myself, I chose the latter without guilt. Which meant I curled back into bed and gave myself the permission to rest. I had a wedding to attend soon, and pushing through would’ve done more harm than good.
I woke up an hour later, stretched a bit, made breakfast, and sat with my thoughts. I even managed to pack for the wedding. The whole day felt smoother. I wasn’t rushing. I wasn’t drained.
When night arrived, I slept at 12:30 am again. I could tell my sleep cycle was getting better.
The verdict? I joined another club
Not even one day had I managed to wake up at 5 am. Had I failed my mission? Yes, but it made me realise that I don’t care about waking up at 5 am because that it isn’t my golden hour. Based on my schedule, needs, and the things I like doing, waking up at 6:30 am was perfectly fine. Still early, still quiet, but far more in tune with what my body could handle.
At the end of the day, I was proud because I was finally listening to myself. The 5 am club sounds glamorous in theory, like a secret society where success is brewed alongside black coffee at sunrise. But life isn’t one-size-fits-all, and neither is self-care. Why should I punish myself into self-improvement or go by a pre-defined meaning of self-care? It’s a personal concept; the “self” in it makes it obvious.
In his book The 5AM Club, Robin Sharma says, “All change is hard at first, messy in the middle and gorgeous at the end.” It may be true, but I feel I am happy to choose the change I want and find worthy enough to power through. Waking up at 5 am is not it for me.
In other news, I have signed up for the yoga class after the trial, my days are feeling better, and I am sleeping better—without any melatonin, either. My days also feel more productive with my energy levels having been rescued from the rock bottom. So no, I’m not in the 5 am club. But I’ve happily joined the 6:30 am society, where mornings are slower, softer, and finally mine.
