My Pre-Game

Among the throng of critical life lessons that eluded me until well into adulthood was how directly a morning routine can impact an entire day, and occasionally beyond. For years, my morning “routine,” was devoted to maximizing the period of time between my alarm going off and my feet hitting the floor, after which I would make coffee and find somewhere to sit in a spiritless bid to further delay the day’s obligations. Reading headlines on my phone, checking emails, even calling someone in an easter time zone were all reliable strategies for extending my lethargic devotional.

I’ve since learned, both through the testimony of others and my own personal experience, that building a repeatable regimen of a few tasks actually positions me, both mentally and physically, for a sharper take on my morning. What the fuck does that mean? It means that a morning routine is a way to build energy and alertness in a calm, methodical way so when I dive into those emails, phone calls or interactions, I’m feeling calm and proactive, rather than chaotic and reactive.

Having dogs posed challenges for ages. I can’t simply wake up and begin my routine — there are three little bladders that need emptying, three tummies that require filling and a flurry of excited tail wags, jumping and playful interactions that will not wait patiently while I meditate. And yet, if my first order of business is leashing up the pack and going for a walk, by the time we’re in the street, my mind is already reeling with disjointed and uncaffeinated thoughts — a jerky and fast-moving parade of unrelated ideas that most closely resemble the lightning-quick undead of 28 Days Later, in both form and cadence.

And so, after years of tinkering, I’ve settled on something that works for all of us, at least for the time being, with ample room for improvement.

My alarm goes off at 5:15 and I’ve found that it’s critical that my wake-up music be something calm and ambient — anything from electronic chill-out music to classical music to atmospheric black metal. I then get the NYT games out of the way. That’s right - I’m on my screen fairly quickly, which should rightfully draw scorn and horror from morning routine purists. I was very clear, however, about the aforementioned “ample room for improvement.” I knock out the Wordle, Connections and Threads, usually in 5-10 minutes.

The dogs are now up, two of whom share the bed with me. Zoe will be demanding some manner of attention, so I’ll scratch her and Abby for a bit and then it’s feet on the floor by 5:45. Jacques has been waiting for his morning dose of scratchies and affection, which he dutifully receives. I brush my teeth, throw on some sweats, and pick Abby up off the bed. She gets a lift downstairs every morning and one back to bed at night. She can get up and down the stairs on her own without any difficulty — the transportation is just included in the service.

Then the collars are on and we’re outside. These days it’s still pitch black at this time, so Jacques is on his leash and the other two are free range. We trot out to the side of the house, where they can do whatever business they need to do, and then we return to the house. I make my morning coffee every afternoon, with the timer set to go at 5:30 am. And so, with the dogs’ business concluded, I fill a 22 oz glass beer stein with piping hot coffee and some chemically-verdant flavored creamer and pull a couple of long draws from the mug.

The dogs are fed and then I corral the two bigger dogs in the garage — which is a temple of dog beds, toys, mats and water bowls — and head into the sunroom. Lately, I’ve been wrapping up in a Lola blanket, which is easily the most decadent blanket that I have ever owned, and settle in for a meditation. And no, I’m not getting any promotional consideration for pimping the Lola blanket. It was a gift.

Anyhoo, swathed in my furry wrap, I meditate for fifteen minutes, timing myself with the Insight Timer app. According to The Hand Of Thought, it is permissible to sit zazen in a chair, so long as you’ve got adequate posture, so that’s precisely what I do.

Any music fan can appreciate having a song stuck in your head and for me, this is pretty much an all-day affair, so I will usually thrown on a meditation mix via my Sonos app, at a very low volume. The idea is for the music to banish or tame any unwanted earworms that would otherwise impede the moment. Again, I hear all of the Zen purists bitterly mocking my approach but please refer to the ample improvement bit above.

When the alarm sounds after fifteen minutes, I read brief selections from a couple of books — usually something Buddhist and something recovery-related, though these often change.

At this point, I review what I anticipate my morning will look like, then read my texts (on any given day, I wake up to 30+ texts waiting, not including WhatsApp messages), scan my three primary email accounts and pop onto Instagram to see if anybody’s looking for me there. I don’t really scan the feed — I just check for messages and any other notifications. I’ll dick around with IG way too much later on.

And that’s it. By then it’s time to rock and roll. There are still dogs to walk, showers to be conducted and more coffee to drink, but by this time, I’m ready to go.