I used to think the time of day you exercised didn’t matter. Sweat is sweat, right? But over the last two years, I’ve learned that the clock can change everything — your energy, your mood, even the way you see yourself.
It started in the middle of winter, the kind of London winter where the sky feels like it’s pressing down on you. My friend Alex had been nagging me for months to join him for his 6:00 a.m. runs along the Thames. I laughed him off at first. I was a night owl, the kind of person who thought "early" meant 9:30 a.m. But one Monday in January, after a weekend of too much takeaway and too little movement, I set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. and decided to give it a try.
The Morning Experiment
The first morning was brutal. My flat was cold, my bed was warm, and my brain was screaming at me to go back to sleep. But I’d told Alex I’d meet him, and the guilt was stronger than the duvet.
We ran in near silence at first, our breath puffing out in little clouds. The city was still half-asleep — shop shutters down, buses half-empty, the river like a sheet of dark glass. Somewhere between Westminster Bridge and the London Eye, I realised I felt… awake. Not just physically, but mentally. There was a strange clarity in my head, like someone had opened a window and let fresh air in.
After that, I started doing morning workouts three times a week. Sometimes it was a run, sometimes a short HIIT session in my living room. The benefits were obvious:
- Energy boost: I didn’t need my usual double espresso to get going.
- Consistency: Fewer excuses — nothing unexpected had happened yet to derail my plans.
- Mood lift: I felt smug in the best way, knowing I’d already done something good for myself before most people had even had breakfast.
But there were downsides too. I had to go to bed earlier, which meant saying no to late-night drinks or Netflix binges. And on mornings after a bad night’s sleep, dragging myself out felt like punishment.
The Switch to Evenings
The shift to evening workouts happened by accident. In late spring, my workload exploded. Early meetings, deadlines, and a couple of business trips meant my 6 a.m. routine started to crumble. One Tuesday, after a particularly stressful day, I decided to hit the gym at 7 p.m. instead of collapsing on the sofa.
It was a completely different world. The gym was buzzing — people chatting between sets, music louder, the air warmer. My body felt looser, more flexible. I could lift heavier, run faster. I wasn’t fighting the stiffness of sleep; I was riding the momentum of the day.
Evening workouts brought their own perks:
- Performance: My strength and endurance were noticeably better.
- Stress relief: It was like wringing out the tension of the day.
- Social vibe: I bumped into friends more often, and group classes felt more alive.
But there were trade-offs. Sometimes work ran late, and I’d miss my slot. Other times, I’d feel too drained to give it my all. And after a hard session, I’d be so wired that falling asleep was a challenge.
The Middle Months: A Tug of War
By summer, I was caught between two identities: the disciplined morning runner and the after-work gym rat. I started alternating — mornings on Mondays and Wednesdays, evenings on Fridays. It was messy but revealing.
I noticed that my mental state was the biggest factor. On days when I woke up feeling heavy or anxious, a morning workout was like hitting a reset button. On days when I felt sluggish but not stressed, evenings gave me the space to push harder physically.
I also realised that season played a role. In winter, mornings were dark and icy, and evenings felt more inviting. In summer, early runs under a pale sunrise were unbeatable, while evening sessions sometimes felt stuffy and crowded.
A Personal Turning Point
The real turning point came in September, during a particularly rough week. I’d been working late, skipping workouts, and feeling the familiar creep of burnout. One Thursday, I forced myself out for a 6 a.m. run. It was still dark, but the air was crisp, and the streets were quiet. By the time I got home, I felt lighter — not just in body, but in mind.
That morning reminded me why I’d started in the first place. It wasn’t just about fitness; it was about ownership of my day. When I worked out in the morning, I felt like I was steering the ship. When I left it for the evening, I was at the mercy of whatever storms had blown in.
Where I Landed
Now, a year and a half into this experiment, I’ve stopped asking "Which is better?" and started asking "Which is better for me today?"
If I need focus, discipline, and a clean mental slate, I choose the morning. If I want to push my limits physically or shake off a stressful day, I go for the evening. Some weeks, I do both — a light jog at dawn and a strength session after work.
The truth is, the "best" time isn’t fixed. It’s a moving target, shaped by your lifestyle, your goals, and even the weather.
Looking Back
When I think about all those runs in the cold dawn and all those sweaty evenings under fluorescent lights, I realise the real win wasn’t picking a side. It was learning to listen — to my body, to my mood, to the rhythm of my life.
Morning is a quiet conversation with yourself; evening is a lively dinner party. Both can be nourishing, just in different ways. And maybe the best thing you can do is to keep showing up, no matter where the clock’s hands are pointing.