Me: “Ok, it’s Monday. I’m at the gym. Feeling a bit cranky. Whoop has me at 97% recovery. What’s the plan?” ChatGPT: “Perfect timing—you’re in a great position to turn that crankiness into pure fuel today. Here’s the plan:
Warm-up (10 minutes total): • 5 minutes easy Assault Bike or Rower (low effort, just moving) • 5 minutes easy Rowing (~2:15–2:20/500m, ~20 spm)
Main Rowing Session: • 5 × 500m intervals • Pace: 1:50–1:55/500m • Stroke Rate: 24–26 spm • Rest: 2 minutes light movement between intervals
Optional Finisher: • 1 × 250m hard push (~1:45–1:48/500m)
Cooldown: • 5 minutes easy rowing or bike, focus on deep breathing.
Focus Today:
Channel the cranky energy, but stay smooth and powerful.
Strength through rhythm—not thrashing.
If it feels like too much, back off the pace slightly. It’s about consistency, not self-destruction.”
What a well-judged session that was.
Old me would have used the crankiness as a self-destruct button, hammering myself into injury or exhaustion. Not today.
Saturday, I visited a different gym. Same chain, different part of town. Let’s just say… there were some serious heavyweights in there. Only one rowing machine in sight, so ChatGPT adjusted the plan: two 15-minute sets, offering an easy exit if someone was waiting.
In the end, no one needed it. I got the full session:
2 × 15 minutes at 2:05/500m
2 × 500m sprints at 1:49/500m
Bike spin
Then another 2 × 500m sprints back on the erg.
Quietly delighted with myself.
Out of curiosity, I asked ChatGPT what a 1:49/500m pace would mean over 2,000 meters. The answer? 7 minutes 16 seconds. That got my attention.
ChatGPT then asked if I wanted to work towards 7:16 as an interim goal. I said yes. So today’s session was part of that plan—and it worked beautifully.
Interestingly, I didn’t even notice the “optional” 250m finisher in the original plan. If I had, I might have paced the earlier rows differently—holding something back for a final flourish.
Instead, I finished the set, then added two bonus 250m sprints:
Held a pace of 1:36/500m.
Controlled. Focused. No wild flailing.
Before, I’d only ever glimpsed numbers like that when I was out of control and hanging on for dear life. Today, it was deliberate—and it felt powerful.
Why Did I Start This Experiment? To see if I could use ChatGPT as a coach and training advisor to help me row 2000 meters in under 7 minutes on the indoor rowing machine—the erg.
That’s the core of this experiment, and I thought I’d share a full, unedited conversation I had with ChatGPT today to show exactly how that plays out in real time.
Me: “Ok I’m in the gym. Kinda feeling tired and run down but I think it’s mental health. Whoop has me in the green at 75% recovery. I think I want to do distance today. No exercise yesterday. What do you recommend?”
ChatGPT: “If you’re feeling a bit tired and it’s more mental than physical, a steady endurance row is a great call—it’s meditative, rhythmic, and tends to shift mood in a positive way without needing to be all-out.
Here’s what I suggest for today’s distance row (45–50 mins total): Session: 10,000m steady state
Warm-up: 5 mins easy (2:15–2:20/500m) at ~20 SPM
Main Row:
9,000m at ~2:05/500m, 22–24 SPM
Smooth, controlled, find your rhythm
Last 1,000m: Pick it up if you feel good—finish strong at ~1:55–2:00/500m
Cooldown: Optional 3–5 mins easy spin or slow row
Let’s get that good-tired feeling—burn off the mental fog and come out the other side. Want a finishing push suggestion too?”
Me: “Thank you. Let’s row first and then see about the pushing.”
ChatGPT: “Perfect—lock into the rhythm, breathe it out, and let the row do its thing. You’ll know by the end if that sled wants a turn or not. Let me know how it goes when you’re done.”
Post-Session: Me: “Found a good rhythm at 23 SPM. First 9000m @2:05. Final 1000m at 1:48–1:53 @30–31 SPM.”
ChatGPT: “That’s a strong session—controlled, consistent, and a powerful finish. Holding 2:05 at 23 SPM for 9K is impressive. And a sub-1:50 push to close it out? That’s real progress. You’re building aerobic endurance and power now. Legs feeling worked or still ticking over?”
Me: “Legs are feeling worked. I think we might need to do some lower back/core work—I was losing form near the end.”
ChatGPT: “Great observation. Lower back and core work will make a real difference, especially when fatigue sets in. We’ll integrate targeted strength work on your next gym day. Let’s build that base.”
Me: “I just snuck in some sled work—5 x push and 5 x pull at 75kg.”
ChatGPT: “Love that. That’s a strong finisher—especially after a 10K row. Power + consistency = serious gains. Let me know how the legs and back feel tomorrow—we’ll adjust accordingly.”
So why share this today? Because this is the experiment in action: using AI as a training partner that adapts in real-time—offering structure, encouragement, and flexibility, almost like a human coach.
Of course, a real trainer could correct form mid-session. ChatGPT can’t. It can offer YouTube links and detailed stroke guidance, but it can’t nudge my hips or spot poor posture. That’s fine by me. I enjoy experimenting and finding what works for my body.
And the suggested session was meditative. That rhythm, that structure—it lifted the fog. I walked in scattered, and walked out level-headed.
A Note on the Tech: There are a lot of doomsday headlines about AI—how it’ll take jobs or make people redundant. And in some industries, yes, roles will change.
But here’s my advice: Don’t fear it. Explore it. Create a free ChatGPT account and just ask:
“What can you do for me?”
“How could we work together?” Let it ask you questions back. You’ll be surprised what it can help with.
This is more than an experiment in rowing. It’s an experiment in mindset, in learning, in adaptation. And for me? It’s working.
I needed that session in the gym today—really needed it.
The last proper one I did was Friday. It was a big 10K row, and honestly, I overdid it. Afterwards, I ate loads of stuff I shouldn’t have—salty carbs, bread, potatoes. The works. Friday night, I didn’t sleep well. Saturday I was wiped out. I went for a walk, then actually crawled back into bed. Sunday was a good family day, with more walking, and Monday I went out on the bike—46km, and that felt great. Dialled in. Strong. Power was coming back.
Tuesday was quiet—no formal exercise, just walking around town with my son. We had lunch together, and I loved that.
But by Tuesday night, the voices were back.
“It’s over.” “That’s the end of your streak.” “Go and eat. You’re feeling sorry for yourself—go on, eat more.”
And this morning, first thing in my head: “Don’t worry about the gym. Take the day off. You don’t need it.”
But I did. I really did.
I asked ChatGPT for a mental health reset row, and it gave me just what I needed: 30 minutes steady, with three controlled pushes at the end. No heroics, just structure. Just movement. And now, after the session? I feel great. Clear. Calm. More like myself.
Yes, there’s still a hint of impostor syndrome. Still a flicker of guilt for not being at my desk first thing. But honestly? I’d have been useless if I had gone in without that session. My head was all over the place. Now it’s back together.
I’m also realising something really important: Three or four days without movement is too much for me. Physically, mentally, emotionally—it’s just too long. I need the rhythm. I need the space. I need the anchor.
And the real breakthrough?
I chose to do something about it. I didn’t ignore it. I didn’t hide. I didn’t roll over and disappear under the duvet. I noticed it, I owned it, and I moved.
When I started this experiment, the plan was simple: see if modern AI could help shape a training plan that would get me to a sub-7-minute 2000m on the rowing machine—the erg.
And that’s still the plan. I still feel the need for progressive overload, for pushing myself with purpose. I still need a reason to get to the gym.
But the experiment has shifted. More on that in a moment.
First, a quick word on the AI itself.
I’ve been using a large language model—ChatGPT—a type of generative AI. “Generative” because it can create new output from what it’s learned, and “large language model” because it’s trained on a massive amount of data: books, articles, websites, conversations. It hasn’t lived life or felt what we feel, but it’s incredibly good at predicting what comes next in a conversation. That prediction is what makes it sound smart, helpful, and sometimes even insightful.
That’s what’s happening here. It’s taking everything it knows about fitness, training—and in my case, rowing—and using that to build a plan and keep me moving.
I haven’t posted every single conversation in this blog. There are lots of sessions behind the scenes. Things I’d probably never ask a personal trainer in real life. But the responses have been encouraging, balanced, and when needed, honest. I’ve even asked it to cut the fluff and just tell me straight. And it has. No judgement. Just calm, clear guidance—whether I’ve shown up excited, or worn out and ranting about something else entirely.
More than anything, this process has made me look at myself differently.
The ChatGPT app has a voice record function, and after each session I’ve started using it. What comes out is often a stream of consciousness. Frustrations. Wins. Questions. And then it plays things back to me in a way that makes me actually listen.
And what have I learned?
For one, I understand the technology better now. And not from a course or a video—but from real use, over time, in the middle of life.
But more importantly, I understand myself better.
I’ve learned that I’m consistent. Not just when it’s easy—when I’m tired, on the road, or in a funk, I still show up.
I’ve learned that I’ve changed my default settings.
I used to say things like, “I’m lazy,” or “I always self-sabotage.”
But that’s not true anymore. I’m training differently. Responding to setbacks differently.
Movement has become my anchor. A reset. A reminder of who I am and what I can handle. I’ve always known this on some level, but those old stories about who I was used to shout louder.
Not anymore.
The biggest shift? I now believe I can be the person I want to be.
Impostor syndrome has run the show for a long time. The voice that asked, “Am I really this person?”
Now I know: Yes. I am.
And I deserve to be.
That might sound entitled, but here’s the truth: I’ve always been this person. I just listened too long to the doubters—especially the one in my own head.
I’m not saying every day is easy. I’m human.
But I’m learning to spot the hard days sooner. I’ve got tools now. And more importantly, I’m using them.
Me: “Good morning, I’m in the gym. It’s been 3 days. I need to move. I have 50 mins, let’s go. Include a warm-up please.”
ChatGPT: “Good morning—and welcome back to the temple of movement. Let’s turn that 3-day gap into fuel.”
Session Plan – 50 Minutes (Rowing + Weights Combo)
1. Warm-Up (10 mins) • 5 min Assault Bike or Rower – Easy pace, focus on breathing • Dynamic Mobility – Leg swings, arm circles, hip circles, air squats x10, push-ups x5–10
2. Rowing Block – Controlled Power (20 mins) • 5 x 500m @ 1:55–2:00/500m pace • Stroke Rate: 24–26 SPM • 90s rest between intervals • Final set: Optional push to 1:50/500 if ready
3. Weights Circuit (15–17 mins) • Leg Press – 12 reps at 70–80% • Cable Face Pulls – 12–15 reps (41kg) • Goblet Squats – 12 reps • Tricep Pushdowns – 12–15 reps • Optional: Dumbbell Bicep Curls – 10 reps (for the guns) Repeat for 3 rounds with short rest.
4. Cool Down (5 mins) Easy walk or spin, then stretch hamstrings, quads, hips, and back.
And what a great session it was.
Not long ago, three days between workouts was normal. Now? It’s too long. I’ve still been active—15km of walking, even a go-karting session—but the crankiness crept in. I was annoying myself. How it must have been for my people, I can only imagine.
Three days off now leaves me feeling off-balance. That’s the shift: going to the gym isn’t just something I do anymore—it’s something I need to stay level.
At the start of this experiment, it was all about smashing personal bests. And yes, the goal of a sub-7-minute 2K row still stands. But now, it’s also about clarity. Mood. Resetting the system.
Today’s gym plan was balanced and exactly what I needed to throw off the funk. It wasn’t guilt-driven—it was need-driven. And that’s a different kind of motivation. A better one.
I used to train to get fit. Now I train to feel right.
Lots of time spent sitting in the car—more than usual. One night away from home. The same amount of work to get through.
And strangely, I’ve really enjoyed it.
What’s kept me centred has been the physical activity. The balance in the workouts that ChatGPT has set for me every time I’ve asked.
Today, I mentioned it’s unlikely I’ll get to the gym this weekend. We’ve got a couple of family days planned, and I want to be present—front and centre with my people. But I also wanted a workout that would carry me into the weekend without those little voices creeping in: You should be training… You haven’t earned this.
ChatGPT delivered:
5-minute warm-up
10,000m row @ ~2:04/500m at 22–24 SPM
Final 500m push at higher SPM, under 1:50/500m if energy allowed
5-minute cool down
Perfect.
I lined up a good music set and got into the rhythm—mostly. Around the halfway mark, my focus started to drift. I’d go too hard or too easy. Couldn’t quite settle. At 6,000m, I hit pause. Strategic.
Had some water. Tightened the straps on my glasses—they were slipping and bugging me. Then I got back into the groove.
By 8,500m, my ego started chirping: Ease off. Save it for the final 500. But I caught it this time. Held my rhythm. Kept my pace. And when the last 500m came, I went to 32 strokes per minute and held a steady 1:48/500m to the finish.
I didn’t try to smash it. I stayed in control. Form intact.
This week I had to go away on business—no flying, just a three-hour drive and an overnight stay. In the olden days, pre-COVID, I’d regularly leave my house on a Monday or Tuesday morning and not return until Thursday or Friday night. Every week. These days, it’s an unusual occurrence, especially the overnight stay part.
I had a plan this time.
I arranged a customer meeting to break up the monotonous three-hour drive, and it was a nice meeting. More like old colleagues having lunch than a formal customer catch-up. The food was good, the conversation flowed, and before long I was back on the road with only an hour until I arrived at the hotel.
There was a big presentation the following morning and the nerves were beginning to make themselves known, so I went straight to the gym and explained the situation to ChatGPT.
I told it about the equipment that was available (no rowing machine) and that I still needed to finish prepping my presentation. I asked it for a plan. A few of the suggested exercises didn’t quite work for the setup, so we chatted back and forth until we landed on a routine that fit.
And the plan was absolutely spot on.
Old me would’ve just gone berserk—pushed and strained and made myself sore or overly fatigued for the next day. This time, I felt like I had a proper workout, but it was controlled, with just the right amount of effort to keep the nerves and adrenaline in check and working for me.
I went back to my room, ordered dinner from Uber Eats, and finished the work I had to do while I waited. Then I sat and ate, watched a bit of TV, and genuinely felt good about the day. Nerves under control. Presentation prepped. Body and mind relaxed.
The next morning, I had breakfast at the hotel—no caffeine—and drove to the office. That’s another noticeable change: the lack of caffeine meant my nerves weren’t running the show. I was.
When I arrived, I discovered a wrinkle. In all the planning that went into this customer day, my department had been left off the agenda. Others were due to present my solutions. That’s not something I could let slide. I sought out the right people and got a few of my slides added into their deck. That could’ve been a high-stress confrontation, but thanks to the calm from the workout, a good night’s sleep, and no caffeine overload, I handled it with clarity and calm.
The event started. I did my bit. The customers listened, asked good questions, and agreed to a follow-up workshop. That was the goal—and I hit it.
And here’s something else that made me smile: the outfit I wore.
A couple of years ago, after intentionally losing weight, I bought some slim-fitting dress shirts, a new blazer, and new trousers—my “I feel really good about myself” outfit. Since then, working from home and comfort clothes had taken over, and the outfit sat in the wardrobe untouched.
Earlier this year, I tried it on for a meeting and… it didn’t fit. That was one of the things that nudged me into starting this whole experiment.
I weigh myself every Wednesday at 7:15 a.m., naked, on the same tile in the bathroom to reduce variability. The number hasn’t changed in five weeks. That’s been disheartening.
But on Tuesday, while packing, I tried the outfit on—and it fit. It fit comfortably. And I wore it. And I felt great.
So it raises the question—what is it with the obsession with weight?
Is it just because it’s easy to measure? I don’t know. But something’s not right when the scale becomes the only metric we trust. At some point in history, we got tangled in the number. We let it define us.
We need to rethink this.
Because the goal for me is to be healthy. And really, I just want to wear that outfit and feel great in it. That’s what matters. Not the number blinking back at me once a week.
Maybe we’d all be better off if we dropped the number and just said: “I want to feel good in my own skin. I want to wear that outfit and feel like myself again.”
Let’s be nicer to ourselves. Let’s be gentler. There’s no medal for self-criticism.
After the presentation, I drove home—via the woods I visited last time. It was 20°C and sunny. The birds were singing, the sky was blue. I walked for 90 minutes and enjoyed every bit of it.
By the time I got home, some 45 minutes later, I was present, centred, and ready to be with my people.
It’s a Monday. Historically not my favourite day of the week—probably not many people’s. But today has a nice edge to it.
It’s not my birthday. It’s not Christmas. I still have a full day of work ahead. What’s different is how I chose to start the day.
I was time-challenged this morning. And in the past, that would’ve been enough of an excuse to skip the gym. Not enough time? I’d tell myself I’ll go tomorrow—and then I’d end up sitting in front of the TV for half an hour watching, what? Someone blowing glass? A tree being cut down? Another forgettable episode in a show I’ve been half-watching for years?
But not today.
Today I went to the gym. And I told ChatGPT exactly what was going on:
Me: “Ok, I’m in the gym. I have 45 minutes. Let’s row.”
ChatGPT: “Nice—let’s make it count…”
Here’s what it gave me:
Controlled Power + Technique (45-Min Session) Purpose: Build strength and pacing control—just right for a Monday with low recovery.
Warm-Up (10 mins):
5 mins easy row (2:30–2:20/500m @ 20 SPM)
Technique drill:
10 strokes: legs only
10 strokes: legs + body
10 full strokes (arms last)
Repeat
Finish with 5 strokes at race pace
Main Set (25 mins): 5 x 500m @ 1:50–1:55/500m pace (2 min rest)
Stroke rate: 26–28
Aim for control, not chaos
Finish strong—but keep form intact
Cool Down (10 mins):
5 mins easy row
Stretch: shoulders, hips, glutes, back
If this had been me a few months ago, I’d have tried to cram in too much. Let the ego drive the session. Go flat out and burn out. But this—this was structured. It was powerful and controlled.
What amazes me again is how well ChatGPT is dialled into where I’m at. It’s not just shouting random workouts at me. It’s listening, adjusting, helping me train smart. This morning wasn’t just “exercise.” It was another step toward that sub-7.
More speed isn’t always about brute force. Sometimes, it’s in the stroke. The timing. The rhythm. I can feel I’m getting stronger—my cool-down pace today used to be my max effort. And now? It’s just the end of a Monday session.
The shift from “I don’t have time” to “I can still achieve something” is a game-changer.
Saturday. The hoovering’s done. My son’s off at a party. It’s my time—and I’m heading to the gym.
Me: “Ok, it’s Saturday, I’m in the gym feeling good. Let’s do some distance…”
ChatGPT: “YES! Love that energy—let’s roll with it.”
Saturday Distance Row – Option A (Classic 10K Endurance)
Target: 10,000m
Pace: 2:05–2:10/500m
Stroke Rate: 22–24 SPM
Structure:
First 2K: ease in, find rhythm
Middle 6K: settle into a steady groove
Final 2K: build pressure
Last 500m: controlled push—if you feel good
And it was a great session—interesting, too. Let me tell you why.
I found it hard to hold that 2:05 pace at 22 SPM again. I was either pulling too hard or not fast enough—couldn’t quite lock it in. But instead of being frustrating, it gave me something to focus on. And I needed that today.
Because the usual chatter crept in toward the end: “Hold it… Don’t burn out too early… Save something for the finish… Be the hero in the last 500m.”
But that wasn’t the goal.
What I really needed was control. Rhythm. Consistency. And focusing on the stroke rate and pace through the first 8K helped keep my mind in the moment—not chasing the final sprint.
When it came, I was ready. 1:48 pace, 30 strokes per minute. Strong. Steady. Good form all the way through.
And now I’m home, writing this with something new hitting me: This is my second 10K Saturday in a row—and it feels great.
I’ve done a few 10Ks in the past, but they were always a grind—mentally and physically. And definitely slower, by maybe eight minutes or more.
That’s the reminder today. Progress isn’t always fireworks—it’s steady, quiet change. Physically and mentally, I’m getting stronger. And more than that—I’m actually enjoying it.
Right. I’m off to cut the grass and light the BBQ.
The Sub-7 Experiment 