Rise at 5am. Peel off the tape you’ve placed over your mouth to optimise the way you breathe when you’re dreaming. Immerse yourself in ice-cold water – it’s teeth-grittingly unpleasant, but someone on the internet with a convincing manner told you it would supercharge your focus for the rest of the day. Once you’re out, it’s time to cue up a podcast, in which the earnest presenter bombards you with more advice on how to make tomorrow’s morning routine more punishing, and therefore more powerful. You’re freezing, you’re exhausted, but you’re also basking in the knowledge that you are more disciplined, more rigorous, than the rest of the world that hasn’t even pressed snooze yet.
When did self-discipline become the ultimate humblebrag? The impulse to knuckle down, engage our will power and hope that it makes us better people has permeated everything from our morning routines to our social media feeds to our weekend plans. Over-indulgence, it seems, is out; an Instagram-friendly form of asceticism is in (some people are calling it “monk mode”, thanks to its similarities with the pared-back, isolated lifestyle adopted by monastic types).
