Biorhythms: What A Forgotten 1970s Wellness Fad Can Tell Us About 2025

Could a bowling alley computer predict when I'll be a grump?

A while back, I had a day where I was feeling in a funk. My mood was grouchy. I felt pessimistic about the future. I didn’t want to work, or work out. I didn’t want to do anything, really.

In one way, this was odd. Everything was going fine in the various departments of my life. And just a couple of days before, I had been flying positively high — feeling ambitious, energetic, and dialed-in with work.

Yet, in another way, it wasn’t so odd. My mood has seemed to oscillate like this, dating all the way back to high school. Some days I’m feeling more peppy and on it; others I’m feeling more tired, irritated, and blasé, with a brain that seems to be made of molasses. And there doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

Most people I know seem to experience the same phenomenon, to varying degrees. Even those who are perennially sunny have days when they’re really chipper, and days when they’re less so.

I got to wondering: are these fluctuations in mood and energy really random, or might there be a pattern to them? Sure, I knew that women’s moods can track their menstrual cycle. But I wondered if there might be mood/energy cycles that were more universal, that cut across the sexes.

As I was musing on this question, a truly random memory popped into my head.

I was transported back to 1990 — to Boulevard Bowl in Edmond, Oklahoma. I could smell the combination of lane wax, smelly bowling shoes, and cigarette smoke that permeated the joint.

In my mind's eye, I look back behind me and to the right. That's where the bar was at. Next to the cigarette machine by the bar stood a "Biorhythm Computer." This thing looked like it meant business with its faux wood paneling cabinet.

This machine promised to tell you your “biorhythms” — how you would feel physically, emotionally, and mentally for any future date. You just plopped in twenty-five cents, entered your birthdate, and in a matter of seconds, the computer would spit out a scientific-looking card that would tell you your prospects for health, creativity, and romance on the date you requested your biorhythm for. It also told you if you had any "critical days" — days when you would struggle — near the date of your requested biorhythm reading.

I remember printing a few of those biorhythm cards out when I was a kid while waiting for my mom to pick me up from bowling league. I don't think I fully understood them, but I grasped that those cards could tell me something about myself, and it was all backed by science. I mean, the card came from a computer. It had to be scientific.

I hadn't thought about those bowling alley biorhythm cards for 35 years. But that memory sparked some questions:

Why was there a biorhythm computer next to a cigarette machine in my hometown bowling alley?

Whatever happened to the idea of biorhythms? Had there been anything to it?

Could the science behind them hold the key to predicting my cycle of moods?

To answer these questions, I recently took a deep dive into biorhythms.

What I found out was wilder and more fascinating than I expected.