Andrew Huberman: My Exact Routine To Optimize Brain & Body, I Do All Of These Every Day!

Andrew, I’ve been waiting years for Protocols. You’ve made health into an operating manual—but why these ten rather than the thousand things people could obsess over?

They’re the practices most likely to improve mental health, physical health, and performance. They cost nothing or fit a normal budget, and I do nearly all of them every day. They connect across the day: sleep changes how you feel now, and what you do now changes sleep later.

Start with hydration, then bright daylight. Cortisol is misunderstood: you wake because it rises, and you want a strong rise early, not at night. That supports alertness, mood, learning, and a lower baseline later, so stress produces a shorter bump instead of hijacking the day.

So people have been terrified of raising cortisol when a flat morning response can actually make stress hit harder and last longer?

Exactly. Cortisol mobilizes energy; it’s not evil. Have sixteen to thirty-two ounces of clean water after waking, then get outdoor daylight in your eyes within the first hour if you can. Overcast still counts. If you’re up before dawn, a ten-thousand-lux lamp is useful. Your phone cannot provide that circadian signal, but it can disrupt you at night. The broad lesson is bright days, dark nights.

Sunlight is full-spectrum; don’t run out and buy a red lamp as though nature forgot something. Long wavelengths can support mitochondrial function, and sensible ultraviolet exposure helps vitamin D and hormones. Don’t burn yourself. Get outside, ideally near greenery, in earlier or later daylight. I’m basically selling nature here.

Exercise is another early-day lever. A solid structure is three resistance sessions and three cardio sessions weekly: compound lifts with challenging sets, plus one longer easy cardio day, one moderate day, and one brief interval day. Training creates the cortisol surge people falsely fear, and it prepares you for the day.

You changed how I see hard things with the anterior mid-cingulate cortex—the tenacity muscle. Difficult things started feeling like a neurological investment rather than pointless suffering.

That region becomes active when you meet pressure and decide, I’m leaning in. It’s plastic: successfully dieting, starting exercise, mobility work, learning to dance—anything you don’t reflexively want to do—can strengthen willingness to face challenge again. We’ve optimized for convenience, but should know what useful friction we’re giving away.

Cold is useful because you voluntarily experience adrenaline and learn not to unravel. A workout or hard effort has a beginning and an end; psychological rumination is the ugly email bouncing around your head at midnight. For immediate stress, use the physiological sigh: a full inhale, a quick second inhale, then a long, slow exhale. One can help; repeat if needed. In the first twenty or thirty seconds of an acute stressor, don’t send the text or say the thing. Wait for your strategic brain to come back online.

That’s excellent relationship advice. What about waking at two or three in the morning and instantly starting to worry?

Do ten deliberate long exhales. Keep the bedroom dark, dim lights before bed, and give yourself a reasonable last half-hour without screens. Nutrition doesn’t need to become a religious war: get enough, but not excessive, calories; prioritize complete protein, fruit and vegetables if they work for you, low-sugar fermented foods, and olive oil. At night, some starch can help sleep, but don’t eat yourself into discomfort.

And a morning workout might make this podcast easier to remember because that cortisol rise can support learning?

Yes. Intense lifting or intervals can leave you more alert for learning afterward. But performance follows an inverted-U: too little arousal and you’re flat; too much and you’re scattered. Put the phone in another room, do roughly ninety minutes of difficult focus, and accept errors. Read once, then quiz yourself; self-testing beats rereading and highlighting for durable knowledge.

Walking is necessary, though not sufficient. Aim for roughly seven to eight thousand steps, with five to ten minutes after meals when possible. Those contractions help manage blood glucose. Older people who stay sharp tend to keep moving, learning, and socially engaged. Supplements are additions, not the foundation: consider magnesium for poor sleep, EPA omega-three, vitamin D where appropriate, and creatine. Don’t replace hydration, light, exercise, food, sleep, and relationships with an injection.

The part that surprised me most was faith. I’m attached to rigor, but hearing a neuroscientist talk openly about prayer gave me permission to investigate it. I tried it, and, yeah, it helped.

I’m all in on faith, while knowing I’m not an expert on religion. Biology is compartmentalized chemistry, sure, but that doesn’t trivialize life. Prayer relieved me of trying to control every internal and external variable. I pray every night to put ego aside, serve people, maintain humility, and see the right path. Life is still hard; it’s just much more liberating.

Personal development needs role and reflection: shut up, suit up, show up. Be grateful, prepare, fulfill your responsibilities. Then leave stimulus-response mode for a while—walk, draw, sit quietly, listen to music—and let your unconscious tell you something. You don’t discover a calling by waiting. Work hard, notice what pulls you forward, and navigate in chunks. I know what I’m carrying from fifty to fifty-five. I’ve never been sixty before.

This is the only book I can remember actively waiting for. Your rigor, nuance, and ability to make complicated science understandable are remarkable. Thank you for the first hardcover copy—and for being as kind and curious off-mic as you seem here.

That means a lot. You’re a genuinely good human being trying to do good in the world. I’m grateful for you, and I hope we get to do this again.