There’s a moment every morning that feels like a betrayal.
I wake up with my heart at a steady 70 bpm, calm from sleeping a full 8 hours. I step onto the back patio, sit down, and within minutes my heart is thumping at 95 bpm. I haven’t had my coffee yet, and my first notification from work hasn’t even hit my phone. So, no stress, just… awake.
I’ve been thinking lately that this was a problem to fix, like an artifact of a flawed neurofeedback protocol or counterfeit B vitamins from Amazon. Surely, my nervous system was overreacting. Surely, I should find a way to calm it, flatten it, make myself more “normal.” After all, isn’t the goal to stay regulated?
But here’s what I’ve come to realize: the surge is the gift.
The Biology of the Buzz
To understand the surge, you have to understand the mechanics. Our Autonomic Nervous System (ANS) essentially has two modes.
The Parasympathetic mode is the one often called "rest and digest." This is the calm, restorative state. It slows the heart rate, aids digestion, and helps us recover.
Then there’s the Sympathetic mode, which everyone knows as the "fight or flight" response. This system floods the body with adrenaline (epinephrine) and dopamine, preparing us for action. It increases heart rate, sharpens focus, and mobilizes energy.
That morning jump from 70 to 95 bpm? That's my sympathetic nervous system slamming the accelerator, flooding my system with activation energy.
For many people, this surge is quickly balanced by the parasympathetic system. But I’m not many people, and my biology is wired slightly differently. I have what's known as an intermediate COMT (Catechol-O-Methyltransferase) genetic variant. COMT is an enzyme responsible for breaking down neurotransmitters like adrenaline and dopamine.
Because my variant breaks these down more slowly, the adrenaline lingers. The sympathetic "tone" stays higher for longer. In short, I get revved up easily, and I stay revved up. Go ahead, ask Charlotte; she knows.
From Flaw to Feature
My wiring leans sympathetic, a hallmark of a neurocomplex system built for intensity. I don’t ease into the day — I launch. I’m a “morning person”.
That 25 bpm jump isn’t malfunction; it’s perhaps what the psychologist Kazimierz Dabrowski might call an 'overexcitability' (a God-given, built-in alert system) in his Theory of Positive Disintegration. The same system that once made me feel anxious or “too much” is also the one that helps me ruck 20 miles, brainstorm six startup ideas before breakfast (a classic case of the Browser Tab Brain), and show up with intensity in conversations most people would sidestep.
The paradox is this: what I used to see as dysregulation might actually be high-octane fuel.
Reframing the Surge
Instead of trying to smother it, I’m learning to harness it.
In the morning: I treat the HR spike as a launchpad, not a problem. It’s free activation energy for training, brainstorming across three ventures, or even just stepping into shallow work that benefits from a little adrenaline.
Midday: I pivot, not to resist the buzz, but to begin to redirect it. Maybe a quick indoor row in the garage between meetings, a dip in my cold plunge, or even just a favorite protein snack from Costco become ways to keep the sympathetic energy flowing without letting it fray me.
Evening: I downshift more intentionally. Magnesium, hot tub, meditation. Not to undo the morning surge, but to create range and to tune the other half of the keyboard my nervous system can play.
This isn’t regulation in the traditional sense. It’s orchestration.
The Bigger Lesson
For a long time, my inner monologue sounded like this:
“Calm down. Be normal. See a doctor. Stop overreacting.”
Now it sounds more like:
“Okay, the engine’s revved. Where are we driving today?”
The difference is subtle but transformative. Fighting the surge only made me more anxious, because I was holding back a wave. Using it, on the other hand, turns the same physiology into power.
Maybe that’s the broader message here. The parts of us we try hardest to suppress — the overthinking, the intensity, the heart that beats a little too fast at rest — are often the exact places God hid our gifts. The surge was never the enemy. My interpretation was.
An Invitation
What if the thing you’re trying to tone down is the very thing you’re meant to amplify?
What if the “problem” is actually raw material for your purpose?
For me, the 25 bpm jump is no longer an alarm bell. It’s the sound of my system saying: You’re alive. You’re built for action. Let’s go.
So instead of muting it, I’m learning to conduct it. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the real work. Not silencing our nervous systems, but letting them play their symphonies with intention.