A sleep app promised it could turn me into the morning person I used to be.

The promises I encountered while scrolling Instagram from my bed one spring evening were tantalizing, as they often are.
For less than $30 a month, a sleep app would grant me the tools to become a very early morning person while also helping me feel more well-rested. The secret, it said, was finding the right “sleep time” for my body. With their guidance I might learn that—according to science—I should wake up at 4:45 a.m. Or, maybe I would discover that I was actually a night owl, and going to bed after midnight would give me more energy than ever. But that was not the answer I was looking for.
I desperately wanted to turn back into the very early morning riser I was in my 20s. Currently, an alarm clock pries me awake at 6:15, but back then, I would eagerly get up at 5 a.m. to take a SoulCycle class or go for a run. Having those hours before the world was awake was one of my favorite things.
But it turned out, my mid-30s would bring things I loved far more than that: a family, including a dog, who is perhaps the worst sleep interrupter of all. And something about the pandemic, as long ago as it may feel, seemed to have knocked me off of my early morning game.
I know I am not the only one whose midlife responsibilities have zapped the energy of their youth. But Instagram, just as it loves to target ads that promise to get my energy back, loves to fill my feed with moms—with more kids and more dogs than me—who are effortlessly waking up before dawn and getting it all done with abundant enthusiasm.
If you are an elder Millennial (or even Gen X) on Instagram, it’s likely you’ve seen them: The moms who have a full weight room in their basement gym that they hit up every morning before the sun rises, the moms making reels about waking up at 4 a.m. and meditating so they can be their best selves for their families later in the day.
It’s unfair to say that it’s just moms doing these reels. Twenty-something creators are also making videos about waking up at 4:30 a.m. to journal, get fresh air, and be more productive at work.
And, of course, the promise of waking up early and being productive before 5 a.m. isn’t new. Do you remember The Rock Clock? Before the army of Instagram and TikTok moms getting up early, Dwyane “The Rock” Johnson capitalized on the possibility of rising at “Rock Time,” also known as 5 a.m. The Rock Clock would wake users up with the voice of The Rock saying things like, “Good morning sunshine, yeah, that’s what The Rock just said. Open your eyes up, get your candy-ass out of bed.” And needless to say, there was no snooze button.
By now, the obvious advice may be to stop scrolling Instagram so much. But one night as I considered the effects of brewing a second cup of coffee at 8 p.m. (pro: having the energy to get through dishes and a little bit of leftover work; con: not being able to sleep at all), I couldn’t stop thinking about the promise of finding my ideal sleep time.
So with low expectations and high hopes, I hit purchase on the Rise Sleep App. I decided I would try it for a month and see whether or not I could return to my early morning person ways.
And then, in an effort to not be swindled solely by internet promises, I called Dr. Baibing Chen, a neurologist at Henry Ford Heath who specializes in sleep. Barely before we were through introductions, I asked him, “Is it possible that I’m tired because I’m not waking up at 4:30 a.m.? Should anybody be waking up voluntarily at 4:30 a.m.?”
“Yes,” he says. “But just like a lot of different aspects in our lives, it’s all made out of genetics and your environment. We can’t escape those two things. But for most people it’s mainly determined by your genetics.”
So the night owl or early bird thing is actual science? Yes, Dr. Chen says. “It’s just biological.”
But, he warned, that didn’t mean I could just flip a switch and wake up tomorrow at 4 a.m. and see results—even if I used to do it when I was younger, and it was quite possibly my untapped biological destiny. Instead, he—and the Rise Sleep App—recommended that I try moving my bedtime a few minutes earlier from 10 p.m. to 9:45 p.m. and waking up 15-30 minutes earlier every week and seeing how that worked.
Armed with his advice and the promises of the app, I was hopeful.
The next day, the app told me that I had been in sleep debt of approximately three hours for the past week. And throughout the day it had some reasonable advice: Midday, it messaged me to stop drinking caffeine. I did that, forgoing my sometimes in desperation half-caf order at 2 p.m. Obvious advice maybe, but coming from a sleep app that promised to get me back to being an early morning person, I listened. It also told me to get outside, or at least get some light.
Dr. Chen also stressed the importance of getting exercise every day. And then came the advice that is, perhaps ironically since it is from an app, keeping me awake: Putting down the phone—and all screens—a few hours before bed.
Weeks before downloading the app, I came across another influencer who had some advice that’s stuck with me: At 5 p.m. every day she and her husband put their phones in a drawer. This has been so effective, she said that their child thought her toy phone went in the drawer, too.
Where the experiment to make me an early morning person failed the most was: bedtime.
I was told my ideal bedtime was 9 p.m., or even 8:30 p.m., but I have work deadlines that keep me up later than that. And dishes to do. And Reddit to scroll through for all of the Summer House gossip (seriously, were West and Amanda hooking up last summer or not?). And halfway through the month, my whole family got the flu, and sleep schedules went out the window. And those are the things you don’t see on Instagram and that an app can’t program out of your life.
The lure of being a very early riser can even capture doctors, who are experts in sleep. Dr. Chen admitted he had been influenced by The Rock and Mark Wahlberg showing off their early gym calls back in the day.
“I try to do that for myself and I’m just like, I cannot,” he said. “Even when I try to sleep earlier, I can’t fall asleep until the time that my body tells me to and when I wake up that early, my body just says, ‘No, go back to sleep.’”
So through no fault of the app, or even all the influencers on Instagram, I didn’t stick with the plan for the whole month. But I did get some good reminders in those two weeks: the app alerted me a few times a day to tell me when to cut off caffeine, go outside, or turn off electronics. Following those recommendations (most of the time) did help me sleep better. Which did, in fact, improve my energy levels, even if it ultimately didn’t get me out of bed any earlier.
For now, as it turns out, my ideal wakeup time is when my dog whines for breakfast loud enough to wake up everyone in the house, usually at 6:13 a.m., two minutes before my alarm goes off.
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by Nina Mandell
Nina Mandell is the author of A Fraction of A Point: A Gymnastics Dynasty On The Line. She was an editor at USA TODAY Sports and NBC Sports Washington and now lives in Ohio (which is better than you think it is) and still follows all of the hair care advice that she learned from Seventeen Magazine. You can follow her on Instagram at ninamandellwrites.

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