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Hoping to catch some Zs after two decades of sleep troubles, editor Nicolle Monico tries listening to the sounds in her own head
As I walk into Cereset in Encinitas, I wonder if tonight will finally be the night I get the kind of sleep I remember from my childhood: fully knocked out, vivid dreams, pillow lines on my face. As I get situated in a La-Z-Boy chair, head tech coach Madolyn Dolce places electroencephalogram (EEG) sensors around the crown of my head and on my ear lobes to track my brain’s at-rest activity. I sit with my eyes closed in a dark room for several minutes at a time as headphones relay a symphony of the sounds firing off in my skull.
“Those sensors read a signal, and then the technology translates them into musical tones that you listen to in your ear buds. You’re basically hearing your brain back to you,” Dolce says. “It’s completely non-invasive.”
It had been nearly five years since I had slept without any type of assistance. I’ve struggled with irregular sleep patterns and insomnia for almost two decades, and, eventually, shuteye was only possible if I took prescription sleep aids or 12.5 milligrams worth of cannabis gummies. Without them, I was sleeping about two to three hours non-consecutively.
At the start of this year, I learned about Cereset, a wellness company that claims to use sound to help the brain relax and rebalance, ultimately promoting restorative sleep. Founded in Arizona in 2000 by Lee Gerdes, it’s reportedly aided more than 150,000 people with its BrainEcho technology.
Today, it has over 60 franchise locations in the United States and abroad, including San Diego County. According to the company, Cereset’s neurotechnology employs sensors to observe brain activity and then assigns an auditory tone to dominant brain frequencies. The idea is to hold up an “acoustic mirror” to your brain to help it find balance. While these sounds are incoherent to the human ear, the brain understands them, then self-corrects, Cereset argues.
Since the late 19th and early 20th centuries, research has shown that changes in brain wave patterns can indicate various mental health conditions. Recent studies in journals such as NeuroImage, Basic and Clinical Neuroscience, and Frontiers in Human Neuroscience have also looked at the brain’s ability to self-regulate and correct itself by monitoring its own electrical activity, especially through the use of EEGs. Some research argues that the use of feedback mechanisms (like sound mirroring) can potentially help alleviate symptoms of certain disorders. Though the data is not significant, I’m still hopeful. I’d try almost anything for a full night’s sleep.
Some doctors see promise in this alternative therapy’s potential to enact lasting change. “It’s totally legitimate to take brain activity and reflect it back to kind of help affect the behavior or the function of your brain. We’ve known about it ever since [Russian physiologist Ivan] Pavlov,” says Scripps neurologist Dr. James Grisolia.
He reminds me of Pavlov’s work focusing on classical conditioning. You know the one—dogs, a bell, kibble. His goal was to elicit a learned response, and soon, his dogs began to salivate any time a bell rang, knowing that their food would soon appear.
“You’re conditioning a response. Biofeedback, [what Cereset is doing with its program], is like that, too,” Grisolia says. Enough researchers are curious enough about the power of biofeedback that the technique became its own field of study in the 1960s.
“These types of mechanisms absolutely can work,” Grisolia adds. “[But they aren’t] used very much by regular MDs because, ordinarily, insurance doesn’t really cover them.”
For neuropsychologist Dr. Marian Rissenberg, though, the research isn’t sufficient. “The process and the rationale for [Cereset’s program] did not really make sense to me from a neurological perspective,” Rissenberg says. “[Cereset’s studies] showed a lack of significant effectiveness.”
While Rissenberg can’t back Cereset’s methods, she’s quick to add that she believes in individuals pursuing all avenues to cure their chronic illnesses and physical or mental health conditions.
“If there is no risk to the treatment and … there are no negative psychological or physiological side effects, then I think that there’s nothing wrong with trying something when you’ve run out of options,” she says. “We know that there is a placebo effect and that it does work. Belief seems to play a part in the healing of our immune system.”
After my own research and a quick phone call with Cereset Encinitas’ co-owner Jason Prall, I found myself in an office park listening to the melodies in my head.
Before the first session, Prall asked that I go three weeks without any sleep aids, so I had to say goodbye to my security blankets. It was tough, but I stepped into that initial appointment free of sleep meds for the first time in years.

Going over my charts after my session, Dolce tells me that my brain’s sound waves show that my mind spends its time split between fight-or-flight and freeze modes, which can affect blood pressure, heart rate, and respirations. Dolce also notices that my temporal lobes (the area of the brain that plays a crucial role in processing information from our senses, managing emotions, and retrieving memories) are “overactive.”
According to Dolce, this is often indicative of sleep disruptions. Across five sessions once a week, she adds, we’ll aim to bring my brain back to a more balanced, harmonic state, so I can hopefully operate in fight-or-flight and freeze states less frequently.
I wouldn’t be the first to find relief from a chronic concern. Cereset Encinitas’ co-owner Andrew DeGregorio experienced a traumatic brain injury in 2014. “Years later, I had this mysterious chronic illness,” DeGregorio says. “I ended up becoming allergic to most foods […] and soaps, warm water, and sunlight.”
After trying everything he could—doctors, naturopaths, shamans, psychologists—and getting no answers, DeGregorio decided to look toward the one part of the body that controlled it all: the brain. That’s when he learned about Cereset’s program.
“I went and did [the treatment] in January of 2023. Six months later, I opened this center,” he says. “It ended up being the thing that cleared up and eliminated 99 percent of my symptoms.”
His story gives me hope for my own success. Leaving the office on day one, I feel noticeably more centered, but I can’t quite be sure if it’s a placebo effect. After straining to stay awake all afternoon, I go to bed at 6 p.m. the following night, potentially a sign that something has shifted. Throughout the week, I experience restless nights, followed by days where keeping my eyes open at lunchtime feels impossible.
During the second week of treatment, I begin wearing a sleep tracker and notice that I’m getting between three to five hours of shuteye a night. There’s no consistency, but snoozing that long consecutively is already a win.
After my third session one Saturday, I leave the office annoyed at nothing in particular. By Tuesday, I’m so irritable that I email Dolce to ask whether this is part of the rebalancing. “Yes, irritability can be a common, [temporary] response,” she writes back.
Week three feels lighter—I am more alert at work, spend an entire weekend deep-cleaning my apartment, and am getting seven to eight hours of sleep a night. For the first time in years, I’m not stressed at the prospect of going to bed. I look forward to my sessions.
After I sit down for my final BrainEcho, Dolce and I review my charts from the past few weeks. Dolce reminds me of the conflicting states I started in—“basically like one foot on the gas, one foot on the brakes,” she says. “This [chart explains] where we ended today. Things are nice and balanced and in the green— in alignment.”
The charts suggest that my brain is spending less time swinging between fight-or-flight and freeze states and more time at a happy equilibrium. To continue the car metaphor, my once-relentlessly active brain was finally able to flip on cruise control, hypothetically giving me the opportunity to get some rest.
The data felt true to my experience. Though things weren’t perfect, I was starting to feel like I could finally get enough sleep. As I write this nearly seven weeks post-program, some of my earlier symptoms have returned. Falling asleep is beginning to take one to two hours again, and I’m waking up more often during the night. But I’ve stayed off sleep aids to continue working on my insomnia naturally.
Cereset recommends 10 to 15 sessions initially to start seeing tangible results, but everyone’s experience is different. The company says that some patients require at least 20 to begin to reach their goals. I’d need to participate in more sessions (which start at $225 per visit) to fully understand the technology’s effectiveness; however, this is the furthest I’ve gotten in my sleep journey thus far.
For all clients, Prall encourages monthly “tune-ups” to continue strengthening and stabilizing the brain, likening it to learning an instrument: You’ve got to keep practicing to get better.
Nicolle Monico is an award-winning writer and the director of creative projects, digital editor for San Diego Magazine with more than 19 years of experience in media including Outside Run, JustLuxe and The San Francisco Chronicle.
The Ely Callaway Performance Center is where tour-level fittings, cutting-edge technology, and golf equipment you can’t buy yet all come together
“Come test something.”
Those are quite possibly my three favorite words in the English language—all due respect to “I love you” or the highly underrated “you were right.”
I’ve been a PGA Golf Professional since 1994, and yes, full bias disclosure, a Callaway Golf Ambassador for 18 years. One of the bonuses that comes with that combo is access to the Ely Callaway Performance Center—a place so exclusive it gives “velvet rope” vibes.
Originally opened in 2006 as a highly functional (yet not exactly breathtaking) test facility, the ECPC got a serious glow-up in 2018 when Gil Hanse (along with partner Geoff Shackelford) turned it into what can only be described as a fully engineered golf playground. Hanse is no stranger to golf course renovations. In 2024, he completed an extensive redesign of the Omni La Costa North Course in Carlsbad, so it could host the NCAA Division 1 Golf Championships. He also worked on acclaimed courses like Winged Foot, Merion Golf Club, and Oakmont Country Club.
In just two months, it went from a standard test center and R&D lab to a fully dialed-in golf playground.

What was once purely practical is now intentionally designed to be both precise and inspiring. The targets are staggered with purpose—forcing creative shot-making while also calling you out on your actual distances (no more “that’s my 150-yard club … ish”).
Add a massive hitting area, bunkers and greens that mimic real on-course conditions, a “Himalayas” putting green (named for its roller-coaster undulations), an upgraded indoor putting lab, and a 120-decibel sound system blasting a very golf-appropriate playlist, and suddenly it’s a rare blend of high-performance testing facility and “don’t mind if I stay here all day” energy. Since this isn’t exactly open to the public, SDM asked me to take you behind the curtain.
As the iron gates part, it feels less like arriving at a practice facility and more like being granted backstage access at a rock concert—if the bandmembers were made entirely of launch monitors and perfectly manicured turf.
There are no mats. No guessing. No “I think that one felt good?” Just conditions that mirror exactly what tour players see in competition. Because when you’re testing equipment at this level, accuracy isn’t a bonus—it’s the whole point.
Even the sand matters. Different textures. Different densities. Because bunkers have personalities, too, and they are often unfriendly. And the golf balls? Brand. New. Not the usual “these have seen some things” range balls. New balls mean consistent spin, truer trajectory, and no surprises. The older a golf ball gets—and the more it’s been baked in the sun, scuffed, or generally lived a full and complicated life—the less reliable it becomes. Think of it like this: fresh ball, predictable performance; old range ball, slight chaos with a side of mystery.
I’m escorted to my personal hitting bay—basically a pop-up shaded oasis stocked with enough equipment to make a gear junkie weak in the knees. Shafts in every weight and profile imaginable. Heads lined up like they’re waiting to be drafted by their favorite team.

Toptracer technology was patiently waiting to track every one of my swings, each shot instantly delivering ball speed, launch, spin, carry distance, and dispersion (a polite way of saying consistency, or lack thereof), so there’s no guessing—just data telling the truth, whether I like it or not.
We start with irons. Different heads, different feels, different results. When I miss a shot, the ball tends to leak right, so we check lie angle. A quick adjustment—2 degrees upright—and suddenly the clubface is consistently square at impact like it remembered its job. Effort level: down. Ball flight: improved. Confidence: creeping back.
Next we look at the different shaft options—because nothing says “fun afternoon” like realizing a higher kick point can change your entire golf identity. Shaft flex (how much the shaft bends during your swing) helps determine whether you get more height and distance or more control, while kick point (where the shaft bends the most) influences your ball flight—lower kick point for higher launch, higher kick point for a flatter, more penetrating shot. In other words, one small tweak and suddenly you’re hitting shots you’d normally only describe later, slightly exaggerated, over a glass of wine.
Then we move through the bag: hybrids, fairway woods, drivers, wedges. It’s a full rotation of “try this,” “now try this,” and “okay wait … THAT one.”
And yes—the new Quantum driver and fairway woods made an appearance. Without getting too deep in the weeds, they’re faster, more forgiving, and smarter (thanks to AI face mapping) than previous models. Translation: Even your mishits are now slightly less embarrassing. And they were not the only things getting tested. My patience was under attack because the driver and woods would not be available to the public for a good three months.

Watching the fitting team work is like watching a Formula 1 pit crew. Clubs are swapped in seconds. Shafts tightened, adjusted, replaced. One minute you’re swinging something that seems “fine,” and the next, you’re holding a club that feels like it is a part of your DNA.
Then there’s the putter fitting. Drivers are physics. Putters are therapy. Inside the putting lab, sensors track everything—tempo, face angle, path—things you didn’t even know could be measured. Within minutes, my data politely informs me that my putter face is slightly closed at impact. Not shocking, but also not ideal.
A few quick adjustments—different head (with a bit more weight at the toe to discourage the face swinging closed at impact), shorter shaft (so I feel more over the ball, which helps my eyeline)—and suddenly the ball starts rolling exactly where I’m aimed.
Same stroke. Same golfer. Completely different outcome. If only the rest of life worked like that.
And then there’s the part that feels slightly classified. The ECPC isn’t “just” a performance center—it’s also where future equipment lives before the public even knows it exists. I’ve been there when certain clubs were basically under surveillance. Not “don’t touch,” but more “please keep phones in your pocket.”
It’s golf’s version of Area 51. Except instead of aliens, it’s drivers that won’t hit shelves for another year—and like I mentioned, waiting is not my strong suit.
Getting to test the newest equipment isn’t just a perk—it’s part of the job. It’s what allows me to stand in front of students and say, “I’ve tried it. I know what works and what doesn’t. And more importantly, I know why.” And if I happen to sprint to my car every time the phone rings and someone says, “Come test something” … well, that’s just professional courtesy.
Callaway isn’t the only place to get your swing analyzed and clubs fitted. You can stroll into big retail spots like The Golf Mart or Golf Galaxy, book a next-level session at a dedicated studio like Club Champion or True Spec Golf, test brand-specific gear at various manufacturing companies (many located in Carlsbad), or even combine a lesson and a fitting at GOLFTEC. And let’s not forget your local golf course, where fittings happen on actual turf, on a driving range you have some history with—many times with the golf professional who is familiar with your swing so they can give you valuable input. With this many options, there’s really no excuse, other than pride, to keep blaming your clubs.
From getting your sweat on at hip-hop class to celebrating with a zero-proof cocktail, here are San Diego's top fitness and wellness spots
For thousands of years, the Kumeyaay who lived in this area called a mountain south of Julian Cush-pii, meaning “sharp peak.” Then, after the Civil War, Confederate sympathizers saw that same mountain and decided to rename it Stonewall Peak—after General Stonewall Jackson. The name stuck for nearly a century and a half, until Cuyamaca Rancho State Park announced earlier this year that the name will return to its original, Cush-pii. Hike to the summit for expansive views of the Coronado Islands to the west and Mexico to the south.

In 1993, Angie Bunch gathered a group of hip-hop dancers—called Culture Shock Dance Troupe—and gave them a space to practice and perform. As hip hop grew through the ’90s, so did Culture Shock. It has since become a nonprofit, a space for young and old, beginner and expert dancers. Culture Shock has also expanded to Los Angeles, Oakland, Las Vegas, Chicago, Atlanta, New York City, and Washington, D.C., as well as Ottawa and Toronto, Canada.
In 2019, Amanda Leach created the Yoga Box method, which takes high-energy flows and adds strength-building poses in heated, vibey, lava-lamp-lit studios. What started on Grand Avenue in Pacific Beach has spread to 15 locations across the county, with even more trickling into Denver, Chicago, and Brooklyn. The best part? Mindfulness newbies who can’t touch their toes and six-packed contortionists can hang in the same class. You can customize each session based on your ability and fitness level.

A gym taking over a historic beachfront pool sounds like the setup for a new season of Love Island, but Fit Mission Beach operating the nearly 100-year-old Plunge at Belmont Park is real. The independent fitness brand has spent the past several years building a loyal following through group fitness classes, community events, and a members’ social club overlooking the ocean. Upstairs, members can work remotely, meet friends, or hang out long after their workout ends. Between the Plunge, the coworking-style lounge, and a packed calendar of events, Fit has evolved into something bigger than a gym. It’s a clubhouse for San Diego’s fitness crowd.
The wellness world is finally transitioning away from HIIT workouts and cult-like spin classes, where your heart rate hits Zone 5 within minutes and stays there until cooldown. Good. At Breathe Degrees, wellness takes the form of zenned-out communal breathing sessions or vagus nerve–activating cold plunges. Breathwork is said to boost your mood in the short term and improve your heart health in the long term, and maybe that’s why everyone’s coming back for more. You can’t run into someone in Carlsbad who hasn’t dropped into at least one breathwork session, and now the studio has opened a second location in Liberty Station.

Pilates wasn’t just popular this year; it was practically a requirement for maintaining your San Diego residency. New studios seemed to appear weekly across San Diego, each promising stronger cores and better posture, but Soul Pilates and Care found a way to stand out by addressing a challenge many parents know well: finding time to exercise at all. Fitness doesn’t have to compete with parenting responsibilities. Parents can drop their kids off with trained caregivers while they head into reformer classes, eliminating one of the biggest barriers to working out. The studio has earned strong reviews for both its instruction and family-friendly approach.
The Hotel del Coronado’s sweeping $550 million restoration touched nearly every corner of the historic resort, but one of the most anticipated unveilils was the debut of its redesigned spa. The oceanfront wellness destination now features 21 treatment rooms, a relaxation lounge, a sauna, steam room, and a treatment menu inspired by the coastal environment just steps away. The redesign blends the Del’s Victorian legacy with a cleaner, more contemporary aesthetic, creating a space that feels distinctly SoCal rather than generic luxury hotel. For locals who don’t have time for a vacation, it’s the next best thing.
As non-alcoholic beverages continue their meteoric rise, Good News Bar has become one of San Diego’s most compelling arguments for a booze-free evening. The University Heights hotspot serves a menu of carefully crafted zero-proof cocktails that borrow techniques and ingredients from traditional cocktail programs (it’s not just fancy juices and soda water), minus the hangover. The space also hosts regular community events and has quickly become a gathering place for everyone from sober San Diegans to the merely sober-curious. In a nightlife industry built around alcohol sales, Good News proved there’s plenty of demand for connection without the buzz.
For a city that lives outdoors, these hometown makers understand exactly what your complexion is up against
San Diego has always worshipped at the altar of good skin. Equal parts surf town, biotech hub, and wellness capital, it’s a city where lunch breaks become beach walks and sunscreen sits beside car keys by the front door. The products that get used here earn their place. With 266 sunny days a year and one of the highest rates of skin cancer in the country, we take skincare seriously. Dr. Bronner’s has been making soap in North County since the 1960s. Sun Bum was born in Encinitas and is now on shelves in over 70 countries. The tradition runs deep.
“Living in San Diego means your skin is exposed to sun almost every day of the year,” says Sue Zhang, M.D., a San Diego physician specializing in aesthetic medicine. “The products that tend to succeed here are the ones that can keep up with daily life, UV exposure, sweat, and movement, while still supporting long-term skin health.”
From a mineral powder that solves the sunscreen-over-makeup problem to an acorn oil serum rooted in Indigenous plant medicine, the local San Diego shelf is more diverse, and comprehensive, than most of us realize.

A hydrating gel-oil hybrid that applies like a body treatment and leaves skin with a sheen that reads as healthy rather than oily. La Jolla–founded Kopari built its reputation on cold-pressed coconut oil sourced from family farms in the Philippines, and the Sun Shield Body Glow SPF is exactly that in summer form: coverage that doubles as skincare.

The name is intentional. The founder got a basal cell carcinoma diagnosis that his dermatologist caught—she’s now his business partner. The question he couldn’t shake was why the skincare industry hadn’t yet figured out how to talk to men, and 4-Skin is the answer: a premium sunscreen and skincare line built around the kind of blunt, self-aware humor that gets guys to pay attention. Men’s skincare has needed this for a long time, and the formulas are serious enough to deliver.

Carlsbad-based Coola was formulating organic SPF before “clean sunscreen” was a marketing category, and the Classic Face Sunscreen is the brand’s thesis: protection that disappears into skin and layers cleanly under makeup. Sheer and lightly hydrating, it makes sunscreen easy to reapply before an afternoon walk at Torrey Pines.

Squalane, argan, jojoba, and CoQ10: a short ingredient list that does a lot. The Glow Finishing Oil from Mission Hills wellness sanctuary Saffron and Sage is plant-based, scientifically grounded, and formulated to absorb rather than sit on the skin. The brand started as an integrative health practice where acupuncture, naturopathic care, and functional medicine share a roof, and the skincare line runs on the same philosophy.

The Restorative Skin Complex is powered by TriHex+, a patented peptide blend developed by Carlsbad-based Alastin’s team of SkinMedica veterans. It promises to clear out damaged collagen and elastin while supporting new production, the kind of gradual improvement that makes a product hard to quit.

Beldi is a multi-functional cleansing tradition rooted in Moroccan hammam culture, dating back over 12 centuries. Alia Jouj is the brand’s flagship product, and San Diego–based founder Dr. Mia Chae Reddy built a brand around it. Alia Jouj uses 100 percent organic, cold-pressed argan oil and the same ancient saponification method to produce a honey-thick liquid cleanser that softens skin without stripping it.

Acorn oil has been used by California’s Indigenous communities as plant medicine for generations. Ruth-Ann Thorn, an enrolled member of the Rincon Band of Luiseño Indians, built N8iV around it as the first Native American–owned skincare brand to reach the national mainstream. The Móyla Moon Polish, named for the Luiseño word for moon, is an exfoliant centered on acorn oil Thorn gathers herself each year from the La Jolla reservation. Find it at the Gaslamp Quarter store Thorn owns at the historic Yuma Building.

This product solved the reapplication problem. As a brush applicator, this mineral SPF goes over makeup without disturbing it, which is why it has been on derm-office retail shelves in Carlsbad and beyond for over two decades. The tinted version doubles as foundation.

This steroid-free, petroleum-free eczema treatment was built specifically for babies and toddlers (although grown-ups can use it, too). It’s centered on FDA-approved 1 percent colloidal oatmeal with a base of sunflower seed oil, beeswax, and jojoba. The “linoleic-acid-rich sunflower oil is helpful for atopic, eczema-prone skin that is often deficient in that fatty acid,” says Dr. Zhang. Gentle enough for newborns, safe for daily use, and tested by both pediatricians and dermatologists.

The Mandelic Night Serum pairs mandelic acid, an AHA derived from almonds and gentler than glycolic acid on sensitive skin, with lactic acid, niacinamide, and urea to brighten, smooth texture, and reduce breakouts overnight. Fragrance-free, vegan, cruelty-free. The brand name is the initials of the founder’s five daughters, pronounced like courage. Dr. Zhang also says she “really value[s] [the founder’s] mission to create pregnancy-safe skincare products that are both effective and wallet-friendly.”
Ingrid Yang, M.D., J.D. is a hospital-based physician in San Diego, CA, certified yoga therapist, and longevity specialist. She loves *double hearts* San Diego and spends her days helping people fully engage in long, healthy lives through evidence-based lifestyle medicine. Her books include Adaptive Yoga, Zen Mindfulness, and Hatha Yoga Asanas. When she’s not leading international wellness retreats, she is chasing sunsets, handstanding in nature, or geeking out over mitochondria.
Behind every beautiful space is a thoughtful process, and ASID San Diego is helping homeowners understand the value of professional design.
A perfectly designed home rarely happens by accident. Those kitchens that feel effortless and rooms that seem to tell a story the second you walk in? They’re usually the work of someone who knows exactly what they’re doing.
It’s knowing which ideas will actually work, which materials will hold up over time, and how to turn a collection of choices into a space that feels intentional. That’s where a professional interior designer comes in.
For the American Society of Interior Designers (ASID) California San Diego Chapter, the goal is to help people see interior design as more than just the finished look. Behind every well-designed space is a process built on technical expertise. Designers are educated in everything from professional software and construction details to building codes, space planning, materials, and functionality.

“People don’t always realize how much goes on behind the scenes,” Kirsten Recce , current president of the ASID California San Diego Chapter, says. “Our designers are not just doing furniture placement and color selection and picking out new fluffy pillows. That’s not what they’re trained for.”
ASID members bring formal education, continued learning, and industry knowledge to their projects, helping create spaces that are not only beautiful, but designed to work. A paint color that changes completely depending on the lighting. A material that looks beautiful in a showroom but doesn’t make sense for everyday life. A layout that photographs well but doesn’t function for the people living there. These are the details where professional guidance can make all the difference.
Still, one of the biggest misconceptions about hiring an interior designer is that it’s reserved for massive renovations, luxury homes, or people who already know exactly what they want. The process can feel intimidating. Where do you begin? Is a designer worth the investment? What if you only need help with one room?
ASID’s answer: start with one hour.
ASID’s Spruce Up events break down one of the biggest barriers between homeowners and professional design: knowing where to begin. Held twice a year, the community program gives homeowners the chance to work directly with an ASID designer through a one-hour, $125 consultation in their own home. Whether you’re looking for advice on furniture placement, window treatments, kitchen and bath updates, remodeling ideas, vacation rentals, color selections or something else entirely, the upcoming September 2026 event offers an approachable way to get expert guidance before committing to a full project. Signups are open through Sept. 7, with consultations taking place Sept. 21 through Oct. 31. Proceeds benefit ASID San Diego’s educational and community programs. Register here!

“It’s a great opportunity for people who are in that exploratory phase,” Recce says. “Maybe they’re not sure they want to hire an interior designer yet, or they think it sounds daunting or expensive. This gives them a chance to discover what working with a designer is actually like.”
Design is personal. A good designer isn’t just creating a beautiful room; they’re helping create a space that fits the way someone lives.
“We’re a resource to all of San Diego County,” Recce says. “It doesn’t cost anything to pick up the phone and call and ask. We’ll answer.”
Follow ASID San Diego on Instagram, LinkedIn, and Facebook for updates on upcoming events, or connect with the chapter directly at [email protected] or 619-548-8847.
The Carlsbad-based concept has exploded nationally by turning men’s health clinics into man caves
Rub some dirt on it. Walk it off. Be a man. The tropes and reasons for men ignoring their health and doing preventive care are many, reinforced by action heroes and generational norms. As a result, compared to American women, American men live an average of five years less, seek healthcare treatment half as often, and die by suicide nearly four times more often.
Many national campaigns have tried to change this. This year’s “Relax Your Tight End” ad from Novartis during the Super Bowl—in which NFL legends advocated for early prostate cancer screenings—was a high-profile example. Meanwhile, in San Diego, Evan Miller seems to have figured it out.
Miller founded Gameday Men’s Health in 2018 as a small clinic in Carlsbad. The idea was to create a space men would actually want to spend time in. So he built Gameday to feel more like a sports bar or a man cave—snacks, sports on oversized, high-def flat screens in the waiting room. He personalized the care for each client, made the experience more casual, and, above all, efficient. If the wait for payoff is too long, Miller says, men won’t show up for their health.
“We need to feel better quick,” he says. “So that’s where the real hook with Gameday is: It’s fast; it works quick.”
The idea has worked. Big time.
Gameday now has 430 locations spread across 46 US states and parts of Canada, with hundreds more set to open over the next three years.
Prior to Gameday, Miller—who has a Ph.D. in clinical psychology—ran Akua Mind Body, an addiction treatment center in Newport Beach. After selling the center, Miller says he searched for a new way to help his community.
He drew from his behavioral health training and dispiriting past experiences with “sketchy” men’s clinics, albeit with a slightly different concept at first.

“My original idea for Gameday, funny enough, was men’s group therapy,” Miller says. “I wanted to put it in this ‘man cave’ environment because I knew guys wouldn’t show up otherwise.”
Initially envisioned as safe spaces to encourage men to open up emotionally, Miller pivoted to a more clinical approach with an athletic design that personally appealed to him. Soon, it evolved into a one-stop shop of compounded medication treatments for weight loss plans, hair loss treatments, anti-aging injections, sexual wellness strategies, and testosterone replacement therapy. The hotly debated trend of peptides—mini amino acid proteins that the FDA has yet to approve—has become a popular feature.
New patients undergo in-clinic assessments for testosterone and prostate levels with the goal of producing test results in just a quarter of an hour. “Our philosophy with our treatments is we only do what the research supports,” Miller says.
An Orange County native, Miller found Carlsbad to be a natural headquarters. He found a much bigger market in coastal North County of men seeking a boost—both in their marriages and their overall livelihoods. The pandemic proved to be a watershed moment, with front-yard gyms and outdoor, highly visible exercise sparking a wave of self-care. According to Cleveland Clinic, after the pandemic, about 20 percent of men started to exercise more and eat healthier, with a quarter of men reporting they scheduled more sleep and spent more time with family.
“When Covid happened, [suddenly] everyone looked in the mirror and was like, ‘I need to take care of my health; I have to do everything possible to get in shape,’” Miller says.
Two years after Gameday first began, Miller opened a second clinic in Temecula, followed by locations in Laguna Beach and Newport. Demand kept coming, so they started franchising in 2023. They sold 1,000 licenses in the first year. By 2025, they had over 400 clinics across the country.
When asked about the rapid growth, Miller cites the feedback he received along the way: “People were so excited about men’s health, cash-pay medicine, and not having to wait for insurance. They understood the model. It was for guys; it felt like ESPN meets healthcare.”
Now Miller says Gameday is starting to map out a global expansion—to Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East. Since the company first cultivated a following, Miller says there have been persistent questions about whether Gameday would ever expand its focus to include women. Their answer: Her Way.
“We only offer a very narrow menu, almost like In-N-Out Burger, because we stay in our lane, we do it really, really well, and we gain trust that way,” Miller says. “So we created the Her Way model to do the same thing for women [that] we’ve done with men.”
Her Way Health & Hormones launched in 2024 in clinics with more neutral and calming décor. With locations in Carlsbad and Mission Valley, it will officially start franchising this summer. Miller seems incapable of thinking small and expects around 1,000 Her Way locations to open nationwide within a few years.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
With wellness-centered lifestyles on the rise, party culture is getting a 10 p.m. rebrand
A ’90s pop hit is blasting as I drive up to Solana Beach to go dancing. I’m dressed in the millennial nightlife uniform: black tee, cute jeans, heels. It is 6:30 p.m. on a Tuesday. The dance party starts soon. I’ll be home by 10 p.m. at the latest. I may even catch an episode of Summer House.
I am acutely aware of my age in this moment. I haven’t willingly chosen the club life since my 20s and early 30s. Yet here I am, transported back to 2014 with a few more wrinkles, a lot more ibuprofen, and a touch of “pandemic stole this from me” in my pocket.
A few days earlier, a friend texted to suggest we go to a concert the upcoming weekend. “I can’t, I’m already tired on Friday,” I replied. At 42, two glasses of cabernet bend my space-time equilibrium. A hard sneeze risks a sprained neck. Did I mention the perimenopausal night sweats yet?
I arrive at the Belly Up at 7 p.m. Wilson Phillips comes on the stereo, and I sing-shout the lyrics before stepping out of the car.
Someday, somebody’s gonna make you want to turn around and say goodbye | Until then, baby, are you gonna let ’em hold you down and make you cry?
Tonight’s event is billed as “the dance party that starts earlier.” Surprisingly, I’m not the oldest person in the room. A 60-something man shoulder bops to the DJ set. A Gen X woman shimmies by and snaps photos of the glow-stick-spinning raver on stage. Few are drinking.
Started by two North County locals, Amal Chandaria (32) and Max Gold (37), Earlier is a dance party for older adults who want a club experience without the sleep-deprived, hungover physical toll. Running 6:30 to 10 p.m., attendees get home at a reasonable hour for a full night’s sleep.

Seems I’m not alone in my tired.
“[We’re in] a time where loneliness is high, people are craving connection,” says Chandaria. “One thing we were really intentional about is that you don’t need to go and have drinks to have fun. It’s about the music and getting the wiggles out.”
Early is part of a national trend: the green-juice-ifying of party culture. Americans aren’t going out as much as they used to. They’re drinking less, and 10 p.m. has become the new 2 a.m. Wellness as a lifestyle concept is old hat, and each generation manifests itself in different forms (fitness booms in the ’80s, organic food in the 2000s).
According to a 2024 survey by consulting firm McKinsey & Company, the US wellness market now exceeds $500 billion annually, up from roughly $300–$350 billion a decade ago. More striking than the spend: Wellness as a top priority has surged from about 42 percent in 2020 to more than 80 percent today.
The timing makes sense. Studies show Covid led to long-term shifts in lifestyle patterns. We all began to reassess our lives and made some existential changes—like 6 p.m. soberish dance parties. In a recent Gallup poll, only 54 percent of US adults reported drinking alcohol, the lowest level in about 30 years. Conversations around longevity turned “treat yourself” into “invest in yourself.”
The downer of any wellness trend, though, has been the “can’t” philosophy—can’t eat that cake, can’t sip that marg, can’t binge that show. What if we could do health stuff and still dance and not totally suck the joy out of life? That’s what people like Chandaria and Gold are banking on.
Last year when they attended Atomic Groove—a variety dance band from 5–8 p.m. most Fridays at Belly Up—it sparked an idea. “People want to be healthy and active, and they don’t want to compromise on that by not feeling rested,” says Gold. “I thought, ‘I bet if we’re feeling this way, other people are looking for something like this, too.’”
He was right. Nearly 200 people showed up to the pair’s first dance party last July. Tonight’s crowd is nearing that number again. Among them is Cardiff-by-the-Sea resident and second-time attendee Lauren Marley.
“If you do one thing for yourself—and it means that you don’t have to be completely exhausted and wrecked for all the stuff you have to do the next morning—it’s great,” she says.
Though EDM isn’t quite my thing (give me some stank-face hip-hop from the 2000s), it’s clear from the number of return attendees that Chandaria and Gold have filled a need, one that isn’t just in famously health-forward cities like San Diego.
In DC, Dancing on the Waterfront occurs every Saturday from 5–9 p.m. while Extended Play DC wraps up at 10 p.m. Philly has Matinee Dance Party (5–10 p.m.). New York City finally chooses to sleep, with Friday Feeling and Matinee Social Club both ending at 10 p.m. Last year, Day Shift, geared toward those over 30, debuted at Bloom Nightclub in San Diego.
In Chicago, Earlybirds Club was founded in 2023 by high school friends Laura Baginski and Susie Lee. About 100 people showed up to the sold-out “dance party for ladies who got shit to do in the morning.” Two years later, Earlybirds Club is now held in nearly 60 cities and regions across the US.
“It’s an outlet that [middle-aged women] don’t get in our everyday life,” says Baginski, who also recently appeared on the Kelly Clarkson Show to share their story. “It’s movement and dance. We’ve learned now that it’s really essential to being a happy person.”
Admittedly, it’s a bit harder to be happy when I walk into the Music Box for Earlybirds’ event in San Diego. War’s about to start, protests are the new social gathering, and the economy is gaslighting me into believing salads should cost $18.
But soon the club is a sea of 700 people wanting to dance their asses off. Any negative emotions quickly begin to disappear. Tonight’s music features hits from the ’80s, ’90s, and 2000s: Madonna, Britney, Christina, 50 Cent, Ludacris.
Shuffling past the bar to the already-crowded dance floor, my heartbeat quickens. Pure, unadulterated joy is oozing in this place.
“The whole club was women’s bathroom culture,” said returning attendee and San Marcos resident Beth Avant, 50. “[You get to] freely dance, not care about what you’re wearing, you’re not trying to really impress people.” Soon Whitney Houston’s golden pipes set the room on fire, arms raise, smile lines deepen, and for a few hours, nothing else matters.
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody / I wanna feel the heat of somebody
While Baginski continues to run the operation, Lee lost her battle with stage IV metastatic breast cancer in August of last year. Honoring her memory at each event are words from Lee herself: “Sing f**king loud, dance like nobody gives a shit, and remember who the f**k you are.”
And who we are are sleepy people. If this new wellness era really takes off, imagine the possibilities. Dinner dates at 5 p.m., the Super Bowl at 2 p.m. EST, Justin Bieber headlining Coachella at 7 p.m. Until then, you’ll find me in bed shooting down plans past 8 p.m.
Nicolle Monico is an award-winning writer and the director of creative projects, digital editor for San Diego Magazine with more than 19 years of experience in media including Outside Run, JustLuxe and The San Francisco Chronicle.
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