On a fall morning in 2021, I phoned a friend while walking around my neighbourhood in Toronto. “Early morning stroll?” he asked, detecting the sound of zooming cars in the background. “You’re on the Huberman plan too?”
I was puzzled. Who, I thought, was this Huberman, and how might he deserve credit for my decision to leave the house? My friend then sent me a link to the wildly popular Huberman Lab podcast hosted by Andrew Huberman, a Stanford neurobiology professor with a bushy beard and shoulders so massive they suggest he is known for pounding weights rather than morning walks.
As it turned out, early morning exposure to sunlight, along with cyclical breathwork, cool-temperature sleeping and low-carb lunches, are all part of Huberman’s tapestry of simple, science-based life tips, which he dispenses in two-hour podcasts – and 60-second reels to more than five million Instagram followers – meant to improve people’s physical and mental health.
The Huberman Lab podcast, which was the fourth most-popular listen among Canadians on Apple Podcasts this year, tackles relevant health issues, from how alcohol and dopamine affect our mood to female hormone health and fertility. The professor has said his followers are evenly split between women and men, but his cultural impact is best documented in a prominent corner of TikTok, where mostly women share notes about their newly christened “Huberman Husbands.” These men follow the professor’s health and wellness advice to a tee, gurgling Athletic Greens (the powdered drink that sponsors the podcast), quitting alcohol and, yes, walking around their block in the morning.
Except for the green juice, the cost of entry into the Church of Huberman, as it’s been dubbed on social media, is free. He has published his everyday routine, called the Daily Blueprint, on his website, on a downloadable PDF that carries the promise of increased neuroplasticity, better sleep and enhanced dopamine. I have spent the past three weeks following his guidelines like a born-again Huberman disciple. Here, I share my journey, to help you decide whether you, too, want to hop on the bandwagon.
Waking and early morning (hours 1-4 of your day)
Those expecting their transformation from average schmuck to Huberman hero to involve a radical new morning ritual will be disappointed (or relieved). On the contrary, the guidelines scream common sense. Huberman recommends starting the day with a 10- to 30-minute sunlight walk, for two reasons: It reduces stress and anxiety by quieting activity in the amygdala (the brain centre that processes emotions, including fear) and wires the circadian rhythm in a way that makes it easier to fall asleep at night.
After the morning walk comes a five-minute breathwork sequence of 25 deep inhales and exhales, followed by a 30-second hold with empty lungs, meant to stimulate the autonomic nervous system and increase focus. I also had to constrain my coffee habit, and wait 90 minutes after waking before having a cup. I then chased it with 32 ounces of water (roughly two bottles) before lunch to stay hydrated and prevent an afternoon crash.
Midday through evening (hours 5-13 of your day)
Much of the guidelines in this phase relate to meals. Huberman recommends a low-carb lunch (no full plates of pasta), followed by a 15-minute walk to boost metabolism and prevent a food coma. Next, he suggests a complex-carb dinner with high protein content (such as a steak and sweet potatoes, or salmon with vegetables and rice), to boost relaxation and slowly prepare your body for bedtime.
Huberman also encourages a bout of moderate-intensity exercise at some point in this time block, preferably before a period of deep work. The idea is that the increased blood flow from the exercise will improve focus and productivity by balancing hormone levels. For me, it was a run at 4 p.m., then a snack and a focused hour or two of work.
Bedtime and sleeping: (14th hour until sleep)
Huberman recommends a deliberate shutdown period before sleep, which includes dimming the lights after sunset and avoiding bright screens in the hour or two before bed. There are also cyclic sighs: a deep breath in, followed by a second “top-off” inhalation to completely inflate the lungs, then a full exhale – all repeated three times. He suggests cooling the bedroom by one to three degrees, and shielding it from any source of light for a deeper slumber. Best sleep results, he says, come when we also maintain a consistent bedtime.
The verdict
I followed these guidelines for three weeks, almost perfectly. I failed to fall asleep before midnight once, and forgot my morning breathwork twice, but the blueprint states that following the guidelines 85 per cent of the time is sufficient.
I would not call the Daily Blueprint life-changing, but it is certainly life-enhancing. It’s like a reverse hangover: After a few days, I enjoyed a slight, sustained bump in energy to carry out daily tasks. The boost was probably the result of my radically improved sleep: I started snoozing for eight to nine hours on most nights (as opposed to my usual six or seven) just three days after applying these tools. In turn, being rested helped me keep my stress and irritability levels low. (Before, they would usually peak in the afternoon).
The blueprint also forced me to fix habits that I already knew were bad. I had adopted the work-from-home-era morning: Wake up, down an espresso, sit in a chair and immediately bang out an hour of laptop work. At night, I would scroll through Instagram reels – comedy skit, political takedown, hockey highlight – with the brightness cranked. According to Huberman, these disruptions to my circadian rhythms would have made me more prone to midday slumps – and, admittedly, those disappeared.
Adherence to the routine was easy, because none of the tricks struck me as expensive, difficult or weird, as opposed to many diets and wellness trends. Yes, it has a cult-like following, but Huberman’s techniques are based in science (the online version of the blueprint is littered with hyperlinks to published papers) and are easily integrated into everyday life.
Such a commonsensical health routine, with little to no cost or inconvenience, is a breath of fresh air.