National Sleep Awareness Week
By: Kara Vanhimbergen, BA
My feet pound on the pavement, desperate and hungry. A sense of urgency taints the very air that fills my lungs. Heart heaving against my ribcage, I stop and take stock of my surroundings. Too short, too short, too short. There! My gaze locks onto a six story parking garage. The concrete colossus will echo my message; it will reverberate and ripple before sinking into the hearts of all who hear it. I sprint into the parking garage, perhaps rivaling the 10mph speed limit. The rings on my fingers clang against the metal railing as I propel myself up the stairs, taking them two at a time. My hamstrings are begging me to stop as I near the top of the third landing, but I press on. I burst through the stairwell’s glass door with the ferocity of someone escaping a flood, except when I look up to the sky, there are no helicopters with searchlights, just the afternoon sun. My hamstrings have finally had enough. I hunch over, placing my hands on my quads for support. Sweat drips from my forehead, landing on my chest’s shadow silhouetted on the concrete. It’s almost time to deliver my proclamation. I wipe the sweat from my brow and find the strength to stand upright again. I roll my shoulders onto my back to open my posture, allowing my avaricious lungs to take in more air. I can’t help but relish how good it feels to be still. The birds chirp, cars roar past on the street far below, the wind fills my ears. I take one more deep breath before shouting from the rooftop, “NOON IS A PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE TIME TO WAKE UP WHEN YOU HAVE A DELAYED SLEEP PHASE.” I wait, expecting the wind to mock me. There’s no raucous laughter from people bustling about town who have been awake since 8:00 A.M. No cries arise from baristas who start to stir at 5:00 A.M. No dads show up to brag about busting out the lawn mower at 7:00 A.M. But these are the things I’ve come to anticipate. A delayed sleep phase goes against the societal grain, after all. If I earned an hour of sleep for every superior sneer I’ve received, each ‘my day is half over already,’ and ‘oh my god, you’re alive,’ I’d never have to sleep again.
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I don’t understand what’s so unfathomable about going to bed at 2:00 A.M. and getting up at noon. Though, it might be that people don’t know your chronotype– the time you most prefer to go to bed and wake up– is set by your genetics, or that having a delayed sleep phase means that your circadian rhythm is fundamentally out of sync with the conventional 9-5. Once upon a time, these traits were respected, valued, and necessary because someone had to keep watch at night while everyone else in a hunter-gatherer society could sleep. With industrialization, it became more valued to work alongside the majority, beginning the day at 9:00 A.M. Industrialization also relies on conformity, so the poor saps like me with a delayed sleep phase were simply whipped into shape with no regard for the hours when they’re actually productive.
I’ve spent my whole life fighting against this societal convention, so despite mostly having good sleep hygiene: making sleep the highest nighttime priority, only taking power naps of about 30 minutes to an hour, having a relaxing nighttime routine (when homework doesn’t get in the way), sleeping in a cold environment, not eating anything late at night, and avoiding caffeine late in the day, my ideal sleep schedule being so different from the hours when I’m forced to be awake makes having a consistent sleep/wake time impossible because I revert back to my preferred 2 A.M. bedtime. The areas of sleep hygiene I could improve upon are likely similar for most people. Namely, staying away from screens an hour before bed (at least when I use them, I’ve got them on reduced blue light settings), and falling asleep fast enough so as not to spend the night tossing and turning, associating sleep with frustration. Notably, the times I most struggle with tossing and turning is when I have to go to bed early, out of phase with my ideal sleep schedule.
People with other chronotypes might have similar difficulties, just that they occur at different times of the day. For example, Lions– Dr. Michael Breus’ version of an early bird– makes up about 15% of people. Lions prefer to get up early in the morning (around 6:00 A.M.) and go to bed in the early evening (around 9:00 P.M.), which can conflict with the evening hours when the majority of people like to be social. Lions are most productive from 9 A.M. to 2 P.M. The majority, approximately 55% of people, identify with the bear chronotype, preferring to wake up around 7 A.M. and go to bed around 11 P.M. Bears are most productive from 10 A.M. to 2 P.M. Unsurprisingly, society most caters to the bear chronotype. About 10% of people have the dolphin chronotype, characterized by a nearly constant state of alertness. Dolphins prefer to wake up around 6 A.M. and go to bed around 11 P.M. Dolphins are most productive in the late afternoon to early evening (3 P.M. to 7 P.M.). Lastly, there’s the 15% of the population who fall into the wolf chronotype– the standard night owl. Wolves prefer to wake up around 7 A.M. and go to bed around 12:00 A.M. Wolves are most productive from 1 P.M. to 5 P.M. To summarize all the times that have been mentioned thus far, no single chronotype is productive for the entirety of the traditional 9 to 5, and each type has its challenges, be it staying up late (lions), getting thrown by daylight savings (bears), a poor split between restful and restless sleep (dolphins), or going to bed early (wolves).
Regardless of your general chronotype, sleep is still a balancing act that must be tailored to each individual. For example, I’m a member of the wolf pack, but even for a wolf, I have a delayed sleep phase. Meaning, my night owl tendencies stretch beyond that of the standard wolf and that I have to wake up conventionally late if I still intend to get my solid ten hours of sleep.
Though, that raises another interesting point, that some people need different amounts of sleep to wake up feeling most rested(1). I have met some people that defy most sleep patterns and prefer to power through the day on three hours of sleep (as their baseline, experiencing no other symptoms of mania). My body has determined that I need a minimum of nine-and-a-half hours of sleep to function, and ideally ten hours. Because the amount of sleep each person needs varies, it makes sense that ideal sleep/wake times vary as well, so the main takeaway from chronotypes is perhaps the emphasis on hours where you’re most productive. So, if you’re anything like me: a wolf with a delayed sleep phase, early mornings feel like actual torture and you get a burst of energy in the evening, then it would be most beneficial to work second shift, or otherwise find a job that lets you make your own hours.
So, as my one consistent act of rebellion against conventional society, I’ll see you in the morning, at 12 P.M., like my genetics intended.
Reference
Pacheco, D., and Rehman, A. (2024). Chronotypes: Definition, types, & effect on sleep. SleepFoundation.org. https://www.sleepfoundation.org/how-sleep-works/chronotypes#:~:text=Michael%20Breus%2C%20who%20describes%20four,wolf%2C%20lion%2C%20or%20dolphin%20.
1 An Answer in Progress video that asks if you’re demanding too much from your idea of “rested” https://youtu.be/I4AcCNB1QCM?si=OPW2lGACV95TkLAl.