Suggested Song: The Night Before, The Beatles
Suggested Drink: Espresso Martini: vodka, Kahlua, espresso, simple syrup (good for the morning or night).

I’ve always been an early riser. Sometimes my work required it; mostly I just preferred it. This bias has become more ingrained with age. I’m usually up before dawn now, and winding down shortly after dinner. I used to fight it, now I lean into it. The agency of aging.

I love running before daybreak. The San Francisco air is fresh, the streets are empty, and the quiet calm reveals an urban temperament most locals would not recognize. In my Civic Center neighborhood the morning commute will soon fill the air with a cacophony of beeping horns and lurching buses and a start-stop rhythm of red-light traffic flows. The sidewalks will bustle with coffee-clutching bobbleheads talking loudly to no one while rushing to work. The homeless emerge, dog walkers get fido out for the morning poop, and the F Line street cars start clanging their way up and down Market Street. It’s a radical contrast with the moonlit serenity I enjoyed just an hour earlier.

Aix-en-Provence is different but the contrast no less distinct. French tourist towns rise early. The streets may feel sleepy but a lot’s happening behind the curtain. Boulangiers are rolling out dough and firing up ovens well before sunrise. The cafes along the grand Cours Mirabeau won’t open for another hour of two, but the pre-shift is already setting up terrace tables and chairs as I jog by in the dark. Aix’s sidewalks and alleys enjoy a pre-dawn hosing down, while loud sweeper trucks bristle past. (Aix hint: never rent along the Cours. Oh, those apartments above street level look elegant with their high windows and long views down the tree-lined promenade, but the early morning noise? Infernal.)

By 8 a.m. Aix will be humming with a different sort of species. The morning shoppers with straw baskets (paniers) will be getting first picks at the farmers markets in the Richelme or Prêcheurs plazas; the bread-crazy French will be queuing at boulangeries for baguettes and croissants and pains au chocolat; and the cafe tables will start filling up with cigarette-smoking, espresso-sipping locals, and a few early-rising vacationers puzzling over coffee options. (A market merchant or 2 will likely be enjoying a fortifying half pastis or rosé before the rush.)

My friends are mostly night owls, not morning larks. Their productive hours start later in the day and run into the evenings. Stay up until midnight writing or gaming or watching Netflix? No problem. Sleep in until 9 a.m. or later? Even better.

If we plan a night out, even an impromptu same-day plan, I will rally, but those mid-evening calls – hey, we’re all down at the Forum, what are you up to old bean? – go straight to voicemail these days. I am starting to enjoy my clear mornings more than my cloudy nights, and honoring that shift. The agency of aging.

There’s good reason to fix a night/morning schedule, whether you’re a lark or an owl. The health benefits of getting a solid sleep are well documented – heartier immune system, happier emotions, healthier brain – and a hack for said sleep can be found in honoring a set bedtime, be it early or late. This is harder to follow when we’re young, horny, and expanding our social networks (At the Forum now? I’ll be right down.). But those priorities yield to a different set with age. (If curious to read more about the complex world of sleep, Why We Sleep remains the touchstone on the topic.)

A 2024 study by Imperial College indicates that night owls operate at higher cognitive levels than morning larks. But Bryan Johnson, the popular lifemaxxer, insists that the sweet spot, at least for him, is around 8:30 p.m. to 4:30 a.m. Lots of conflicting opinions and data, but you have agency. So what’s your birdcall?

Bill Magill
San Francisco