Jet lag, the fickle beast: A heavy, sinking feeling at the top of the head, the gears grinding to a halt mid-day; middle of the night alertness, stomping on your sleep.
I’m not one to jet back and forth between international destinations all year, so my dance with jet lag is usually limited to one international trip each year. If I’m fortunate, two trips.
This, I know, is an immense privilege. Certainly for someone who had not been on a plane until the age of 20.
And yet, I approach the impending Jet Lag that accompanies my international travel with the extreme vigilance of a proper Jet Setter. Over the years, with at least one trip to foreign soil on the agenda, I’ve developed a hearty set of steadfast rules from which I never waver. The approach, though stringent, has served me well.
I wanted to share my approach below. It’s served me very well.
My Personal Anti Jet Lag Routine
BEFORE THE FLIGHT
In the weeks leading up to any international trip, my wife and I enter into a committed pact around eating, drinking and exercise. It is perhaps overboard but suited to my rigid (posing as easygoing) personality.
First, we eat every meal at home. Easy enough.
This serves two purposes: it’s a healthier, vegetable forward diet that leaves us feeling great. And it saves money, assuaging my guilt about the upcoming expenditures that will accompany overseas travel. I can never get over the idea of my mom seeing what we spend on vacation and promptly giving me up for adoption at 39.
Along with this lighter diet, we cut out alcohol and go to the gym every day. This is not that different from our normal routine, but it’s a bit of a doubling down. My theory is that I’m putting my body in optimal form to combat the stresses of travel. Faster recovery, less aches, more sprightly when we hit the ground. (It’s travel, not warfare, I can hear you say.)
For this trip, I didn’t have a drink two weeks before the flight. RIGID.
DAY OF FLIGHT
The day of travel we source our own dinner, abstain from booze, and up our water consumption. Even if we’re lucky enough to be flying first class, we don’t eat the meal, we don’t take the free Champagne. It’s all bottled water and airplane salads (or some sort of vegetable dish, low on salt) that we eat as soon as we get on the plane. If it’s a later takeoff, we will eat before we climb aboard.
After the meal I set my watch to the time at my destination. And then, SLEEP. As quickly as possible I stuff in my earplugs and don my eye mask, throw back the seat, and sleep. If I’m lucky, I can log 4 or 5 hours.
ARRIVAL
As the flight winds down and the cabin reactivates with crew dispensing coffee and breakfast, I put the chair upright and turn on my overhead light. I’ll take a coffee and sip as the plane begins to descend. I love this little soundtrack as we near arrival - the clinking of spoons, shuffling of food carts, the growing murmur of conversation.
The first day is perhaps where my rigidity around jet lag really struts its stuff. As soon as we get to our destination, I go for a run: 3 to 4 miles, at least. It gets the blood moving and allows for some direct exposure to sunlight, which ensures alertness.
If we’re visiting over a week, we always find a countryside outpost near our final destination where we spend the first day being calm, easy, and healthy. If I’m flying to Rome, I always stay at La Posta Vecchia the first night. If I’m going to London, we head into the countryside for one evening of relaxation and good sleep. Heckfield Place is a favorite.
Sometimes the big city proffers too many dangerous treats that first day, and I cannot help myself otherwise.
From where I sit, there are plenty of days ahead. I don’t have to hit the ground running like a horny college kid anxious for his first date. I slow roll; at most I have one drink, and I’ll have it early. (Most of the time, I won’t drink any booze at all that first day. I can’t believe I’m admitting this.)
Finally, I stay up to my new bedtime. Pre-children it was earlier, but these days, on vacation, it’s around 10am. I’ll be aiming for an early wake up - 6am is ideal. (I love waking up early overseas and heading out for coffee or a stroll as the world awakes.)
By the next morning, I’m ready for warfare. There are meals to be slain, pubs to be ransacked, adventures to be had. My week(s) of abstinence are ready to be reversed, and I can lean into my Liebling-esque fantasies of long lunches dripping with wine, amaros, espressos, uppers and downers, laughter and delight, shock and awe.
This, my friends, is what works for me.
A new app for your consideration
This time around I courted a new approach, Timeshifter, as an additive to my jet lag routine. I’d read about it on Yolo Journal (if I recall), and again on Meditations in an Emergency. After encountering it a second time I assumed the universe was letting me know it was worth a shot.
Once you download the app and enter your flights (your first trip is free), it calculates an itinerary for you to follow three days out. Specifically it notes times for sleeping and waking, coffee consumption, and bright light exposure - how much and when.
The shocker was the amount of sleep they dictated for my flight to London. Timeshifter specified that I only sleep two hours on the flight before waking and consuming coffee (they say “a little and often”) and exposing myself to as much light as possible - either through the headrest screens, overhead lights, or raising the window cover.
I was curious enough to download it and try out the trip, but it was close enough to my own plan that I decided to stay the course of my proven tactics.
While I can’t personally testify to the success, you can look into it yourself - and if you try it out, let me know!
Sunlight and water and no napping, resting, or dawdling that first day! Hit the ground running and stay awake and get up early the next day