The Jet-Lagged Jet-Set
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re in Osaka, Japan, which is two hours ahead of Bangkok time, and thirteen hours ahead of US east coast time. In other words, I don’t know which way is up.
The Jet-Lagged Jet-Set
When we checked into our Bangkok hotel last Wednesday morning, a promotional sign at the front desk declared that ‘Jetlag is history.’ The hotel is partnering with an app called Time Shifter that helps travelers pre-shift their circadian rhythm before a trip, so that they will (theoretically) not suffer from jet lag.
I don’t care what the developers of that or any other app say. Last week Lee and I wrenched our bodies eleven hours forward in time, and in my opinion, that kind of movement is just not possible without some amount of misery.
The human body did not evolve to fly halfway around the world in one day, or any amount of time that is less than approximately three weeks.
Saying you don’t get jet lag is like saying you’re exempt from gravity. Yeah, I jump off the roof all the time—no problem! Gravity doesn’t really bother me.
I looked into one of those apps once. The idea is that you start shifting into the destination time zone before you actually travel, so that when you arrive, you’re already more or less adjusted.
Except that you just spent two weeks messing with your normal sleep schedule, and depending how far you’re flying and how long you’re staying, you might have to spend your whole trip trying to get back on your home time zone, or just accept being miserable when you return.
If Lee and I made any kind of serious effort to pre-game our jet lag, we would literally never be on any kind of normal schedule. All the science I’ve ever read about jet lag indicates that it takes one day, more or less, for every hour of time change to shift one’s body to a new time zone. I sometimes take an extra day or two. Lee sometimes takes a day or two less.
I don’t try to pretend that jet lag doesn’t happen to me. On the contrary: I lean in. I have a list of small tactics that ease the adjustment. I give myself time—days or even weeks—to recover. I avoid activities that might require too much brain power or stamina.
Sometimes I space out during conversations. My appetite disappears at mealtime and reappears in the middle of the night. My attention span shrinks to nothing. I have intermittent difficulty grasping advanced concepts like what is your room number or turn right at the corner. I wake up at 3 am and fall asleep at breakfast.
A couple of days ago, the sound of my own snoring woke me up. During a bath.
Jet lag is real, y’all.
Take care,
Lisa
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