The rhythm of the morning is a clumsy shuffle. Shrieking alarms shake us to our first cumbersome steps to the shower, where we languish a little longer than we probably should to get to work on time.
Coffee is an easy shortcut out of this sunrise waltz — the equivalent of a DJ flicking the tempo up a couple dozen BPMs.
Wait. What if you literally had a DJ by the breakfast table to do that for you?
That’s the realized dream of , an early morning rave that aims to help you first rethink your day and then, just maybe, your life.
What as a Burning Man-inspired social experiment has grown into a cult phenomenon. Daybreaker’s combination exercise and dance events — which are, except for coffee, totally sober — have since sprouted up in cities like Boston, Seattle, Shanghai and now, Denver.
Partnering with the NFL, Daybreaker threw a Broncos-themed fête at Sports Authority Field on Wednesday morning, drawing roughly 1,000 of the 1750 who RSVP’d to the arena at the horrific hour of 6 a.m.
If the first step was just getting people to make the early morning drive to the arena, the second was to convince them they’re actually morning people. If Daybreaker was a person, it would be that effortlessly beautiful friend who somehow finds time to run five miles, go to work, cook all their meals, get drinks with that old friend and call their mom in one day — and most annoying of all, genuinely seems happy while doing it.
In turn, entering Sports Authority was like passing through TSA’s Special Bad Vibes Unit. After checking in with the chipper ticket-takers at the gates, a drove of stretch-pants clad twenty- and thirty-somethings shuffled into the lobby as a brass band struck up an incorrigible ditty. Another Daybreaker employee blocked the next threshold, nary letting a soul pass by without a hug, myself included.
The next hour was a painful blur. Because I am not only a headstrong but also stupid man, I opted for a high-intensity workout in the bleachers of Sports Authority Field instead of yoga, inside, in what I can only assume was a calm and safe space. Instead, I got: a cavalcade of EDM; endless squats, which I was quickly maxed out on because I’ve skipped leg day for about the last decade; an impossibly fit and intense trainer accusing my team of low energy and not wanting “it” enough to win a free pair of Bose headphones, a weird winner-loser, capitalist slant that undercut its otherwise all-love philosophy (more on that later); a designated Snapchat/Instagram break; and an actually-pretty-special moment watching the sunrise over the Broncos’ home turf. But that wasn’t a tear in my eye — it was salty, stinging sweat.
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Back inside the belly of Sports Authority’s massive concourse, it was time to dance. Now, it’s safe to say that there are many out there who haven’t set foot in a club without some kind of alcohol involved. That’s not my experience, but I get it: dancing is, like any public self expression, vulnerability. Daybreaker also gets this, and sans booze, plied the dance floor with hype, both spiritual and traditional.
Their MCs alternated between and what sounded like pull quotes from a “Bhagavad Gita” bathroom reader. “You better get it,” an MC yelled to a woman who wandered into a massive dance circle. Then: “I don’t want you to be afraid in this circle. We are choosing to be happy.”
Despite my now useless legs and bass-battered ears, I was happy — at least in that buzz-y runner’s-high way. But I couldn’t shake the inconsistency. For as overt as its be-your-best-self slaps on the spiritual shoulder are — and based on every volunteer and staffer I talked to, they really do feel genuine and authentic — the event is subversively corporate despite subtle nods to the contrary (“Dance the system from your system,” one MC compelled the crowd) and calculated. It felt suspiciously like a city-wide team building exercise.
There's a pretty bumpin' rave going down at right now
— REVERB (@RVRB)
But that’s a novel idea. Corporate nonsense aside, I did come away knowing a handful of like-minded Denver dwellers. And this was the Broncos football stadium we were break-dancing in, after all — not some revered ashram.
If your expectations aren’t so lofy, Daybreaker is as wholesome of an endorphin rush as you can get before your favorite cafe opens its doors. One mother even took the floor with her confused infant child strapped around her chest. The baby, who hadn’t been dancing, reminded me of what I’d look like if I’d have stayed in bed.
It was a little before 9 a.m. when I left, the pulse of some bizarre EDM folk remix swelling behind me. I had to be in the office in fifteen minutes. For a change, my heart was racing.
