I used to brag about how little sleep I got. It felt like a superpower: I could sleep just three or four hours a night, and still operate at a very high level. That helped me get ahead early on. As a teen, I bused tables and sold firewood. By the time I was 19, I bought a house (which was possible because it was the subprime mortgage days). Having a mortgage gave me real responsibility at a young age.
Rather than simply extending the fasting window or cutting more calories, the intervention group was simply asked to finish eating at least three hours before their usual bedtime. That meant no snacking while watching TV after dinner and no "just one more bite" at 10 p.m. (my personal downfall). This relatively simple intervention ensured that the overnight fast overlapped with the body's natural sleep-wake rhythm.
It's normal to feel sluggish during the winter. Cold temperatures and fewer hours of sunlight can mean less time outdoors and more time staring at our screens. For some people, these cold-weather habits may contribute to a sleep disruption, known as winter insomnia. This isn't a clinical condition, but it might begin or worsen during the winter months.
Sleep banking is essentially extending your normal sleep hours in the nights leading up to a known period of sleep deprivation. On the face of it, it appears unlikely banking sleep could counter the decreased alertness and other cognitive decrements that we experience when deprived of sleep, or stop that strong sensation we get when our body wants sleep.
Late-night snacking has had a bad rap for a long time. When pop culture takes a stab at this (very) human thing, it often portrays the scene as pernicious or, at best, distasteful. Combine that with regular condemnation by diet culture and accusatory media headlines that frame after-dinner eating as a moral failing, and it's easy to see why most of us want to steer clear.