I didn’t want to ride. Not the day before, and certainly not when I woke up to wind, wet roads, and low cloud. But with the big event seven weeks away, I asked Coach GPT for a ruling. And the verdict was to get out and ride.
The plan was 100 km with 1,200 m of climbing. Within the first 10 km I was soaked through. It wasn’t heavy rain, just that fine mist that finds its way into everything. I told myself, “Get to 30 km, grab a coffee, and decide then.”
No coffee. The coffee man wasn’t even there. Same story at the next stop another 30 km later, no van, plenty of rain, and now a howling wind.
The route planner then decided to spice things up, sending me off the main road and straight into a muddy cornfield. I turned back, found my way around, and later discovered I’d added an extra 12 km to the ride.
By the time I got home, I was wiped out but quietly proud. The new gears and brakes are working brilliantly, the bike felt solid, and that post-ride cup of tea? Best I’ve ever made.
This is the temporarily, navigationally challenged Sub-7 Experiment.
July is over, and it was great to take a proper break, from tracking, measuring, and pushing. I didn’t count calories. I didn’t obsess over numbers. I just moved, ate well, and let things settle for a bit. And honestly, it was exactly what I needed.
One of the biggest gifts of that downtime was the space to finally listen to my body, specifically, my right knee.
The Knee
For the past couple of months, I’ve had a nagging pain at the front of my right knee, especially after big rowing sessions. And I’ve just been ignoring it. Powering through. But July gave me the breathing room to pay attention, and to realise that I’ve probably been rowing wrong.
If you’ve ever looked at the footplate on a rowing machine, there’s a movable part to adjust for foot length, a strap that goes across the widest part of your foot (for me, that’s the ball), a heel strap, and a raised piece that runs from the ball to under the toes.
Every book and coach will tell you: push through the heels.
But I wasn’t. I was pushing through my toes, without realising it. And that toe-heavy drive has been putting way too much pressure on the front of my knee. Now it makes sense.
Relearning the Stroke
So now, I’m retraining. Rewiring. Rebuilding.
I’ve added heel wedges to the footplate to help me stay connected through the back of the foot. It feels completely alien. Like trying to walk only on your heels without ever rolling through your toes. It’s weird, disconnected, and it robs you of power.
But it’s also starting to feel more right.
Over the last few sessions I’ve been rowing with the power curve on display, focusing purely on form. And I think I’m starting to feel a bit of a breakthrough. My stroke feels a bit more connected. A bit more glute-driven. Like I’m finally pushing through the right muscles.
I’m nowhere near breaking the 7-minute barrier right now, but I’m not starting from zero either. I’ve got a solid engine under the hood. This is about tuning it, making it run better, stronger, and more efficiently.
The Bike
On the cycling front, things are going well. The distances are creeping up, and I managed a solid 86km ride at the weekend with over 1,200 metres of climbing. That’s all prep for the 150km ride coming up in seven weeks.
So yeah, July gave me space. And now August gives me the opportunity to build again, smarter this time.
It might look a little different from before. But different might just be the thing that gets me there.
We’ve been away as a family, and it was brilliant. A great place to stay, fantastic pool, beautiful beaches, good food, and superb weather. I even made it to the gym five times. Add in a load of walking and a day at the water park with my son, and it turned into a proper break, with plenty of movement too.
Since getting back, I haven’t been sitting still either: a 66km bike ride, over 15,000 meters rowed. I just haven’t written anything.
This morning I woke up feeling good and headed to the gym planning to go hard. But the loud music pumping from the speaker above the rowing machine broke my focus. I mentioned it to ChatGPT, told it my head was all over the place, and we pivoted to a 30-minute meditational row. Then I threw in a few sled pushes just because I could.
It helped. I’m glad I didn’t force the original plan and just let it change.
I’ll admit, I’m not wildly motivated at the moment. So I’m giving myself permission: the rest of July is just for movement, not measurement.
The Sub-7 2K and the 150km cycle later this year are still the goals, but right now it’s about finding the fun in moving again. About enjoying it. About being present, for myself and for my family.
That’s where I am. Even this post feels a bit all over the place, maybe too waffly, but that’s just what it is today. And I’m okay with that.
I’m off on holiday tomorrow, and recently I’ve been disappointed with my shape. I mentioned it in an earlier blog, after all the hard work in the gym and the kitchen, I’d hoped I would look different from how I do.
I can see my arms and shoulders are bigger and more muscular, but it’s my midriff that still looks much the same. Certainly when I stand in front of the mirror and jump up and down, I’m jiggling in areas I’d hoped would jiggle less. It’s harder to shift the jiggly bits as you get older.
Even though I can now fit into clothes that were way too tight six months ago, I still feel it isn’t quite enough. But honestly, I’m so far from where I was when I started this. And that’s what really matters.
Today I decided to do a 2K test. Just out of curiosity more than anything.
The last month or so has mainly been strength training, with rowing as a warm-up and finisher. My main efforts have been rowing-focused weights. And very enjoyable it has been too.
So today I strapped in, told ChatGPT what the plan was, and asked for a warm-up and pacing notes.
The warm-up was thorough and took nearly 20 minutes. Then the test began.
I was more controlled in the first 250 metres than last time, I could feel the practice of not going out too hard paying off, and it felt great.
500 metres came and went, and I was still pulling well, still on target pace.
At 1,000 metres, a voice in my head said, loudly, “You know what, you’re not going to make it. Might as well stop here at 1,000. Who’s going to know?”
Well. I will. Me. The person who’s been turning up every day while you’ve been skiving off and lazing around. So shut up and let me get on with it.
And I did get on with it.
1,500 metres came and went. The pace was slowing, still okay, but definitely fading. Then with 300 to go, another voice came in. A more confident one, almost alien. It said, “Keep going. You can do a 7:15. Let’s go!”
At that point there wasn’t much left. My form was slipping. So I brought it back in line, dug in, and finished at 7:20.8.
Two and a half seconds faster than last time.
It wasn’t the ten-plus second leap I achieved in the previous test, but I’m still delighted with it.
The learning from this training block is that weights alone won’t get me to the sub-7 2K, and neither will just rowing. The next block needs to be a mix of both disciplines.
Holiday starts tomorrow. There’s a gym close by to help me stay grounded and present.
I don’t know what’s going on today. Does it even need analysing or thinking about? Maybe if I write this down, it’ll become clear. Maybe there’ll be a few maybes today.
It’s been a long weekend—a lot of driving, but also really good family time. Not much movement.
This morning’s gym session, as laid out by ChatGPT, was good. Controlled. Just what I needed.
We’re going on holiday at the end of the week to a place I really enjoy. So why am I feeling sad?
I’d hoped to do a 2K test this week to check on progress toward the overall aim of this experiment. But work commitments might not leave enough space for it. Then again, if I want it badly enough, I’ll find the time.
Maybe it’s the disappointment that my new, expensive noise-cancelling earbuds aren’t quite as good as I’d hoped. That’s just a thing though—not really important.
Maybe it’s the realisation that, with a week to go before the holiday, I’m not quite the shape I wanted to be. When I started this experiment, the goal was clear: row a sub-7-minute 2,000 metres. That’s still the goal.
Maybe I’m just facing the truth that my default shape is barrel, not Superman. But Superman only turns up in a crisis. I’ve learned, through this experiment, to turn up daily. To be accountable. To own it.
If I really wanted to look different, maybe I would have set different parameters. But then again, it wouldn’t be called the Sub-7 Experiment.
I am stronger. I am fitter. Physically and mentally.
Maybe I just need to sit with the sad feeling. Accept it for what it is. It’s me, being human.
This is the Sub-7 Experiment. And even after six months of hard work, I’m still learning—every single day.
When I first started this Sub-7 Experiment, the plan was simple, if ambitious: see if modern AI could help me train for and achieve a sub-7-minute 2,000-meter row on the erg. And that’s still the main goal. I still feel the need for progressive overload, for pushing myself, for having a clear target that gets me to the gym.
But something else happened along the way. Something deeper. The experiment has evolved into much more than just a number on a screen. It’s become an unexpected anchor in my life, bringing with it a whole host of perks I never anticipated.
Movement as a Mental Reset
Initially, the goal was physical fitness, changing shape for a holiday. But quickly, I realised something else was at play. Movement, especially rowing, became my mental anchor. I’ve come to rely on it as a mental health row or a head leveller.
When my head’s all over the place, after a long work drive or in the middle of something stressful, going to the gym isn’t just physical. It clears the fog. Even a walk in the woods on the way home from a tough meeting now brings me back to myself.
ChatGPT, my digital coach, has helped me see these shifts more clearly. It often points out the real wins I’d otherwise miss.
Busting the “Lazy” Myth
For a long time, I called myself “inherently lazy.” It’s a story I’ve told myself for years. But this experiment has quietly dismantled that.
I now know I’m consistent. Not just when it’s convenient, but when I’m tired, travelling for work, feeling flat, or battling the inner critic. The gym has gone from “something I should do” to “something I need.” It’s no longer about guilt. It’s about feeling right. That shift in motivation is huge.
The Evolution of Identity
The biggest surprise? A shift in how I see myself.
I’ve lived with impostor syndrome for years, always asking: “Am I really this person?” But by showing up, pushing through, and reflecting, I’ve realised, yes, I am. And I deserve to be.
It’s not about perfect sessions. It’s about making the average ones count. That’s the real change. I’m becoming comfortable with this version of me. I’ve never said that before. And that kind of self-acceptance is worth more than any split time.
Beyond the Gym: Life Benefits
The habits built in this experiment are bleeding into other areas of life.
I’ve learned to set boundaries, like leaving my work phone in the car during walks. It means I show up properly at home instead of still being “at the office in my head.”
I’m more mindful of hydration and how it affects mental clarity. And even though the scale doesn’t always move the way I want, I’m fitting into old clothes. I feel stronger, fitter, even if my body image takes time to catch up to reality. That reminds me: health isn’t a number. It’s how you feel in your skin.
ChatGPT’s flexibility has been a game-changer too. When my shoulder’s acting up, or recovery’s low, or my mood’s off, the plan adapts. And that means I stay consistent, avoid injury, and keep moving. It’s about training smart, not stubborn.
This is still the Sub-7 Experiment. But it’s about much more than rowing.
It’s a framework for handling life. A journey of self-discovery. And a reminder that consistent, intentional movement can anchor you in a messy world.
No gym this morning. Work commitments meant I had to rethink things, and since it was such a lovely morning, blue skies, sunshine, a bike ride was on the cards.
Nothing too hectic. Just a bedding-in ride for the new brakes and tyres I’d fitted recently. And it felt good. The tyre pressures still need a bit of tweaking, but overall the bike felt solid, and so did I.
On the hills, I noticed I was riding a gear heavier than usual. That’s a quiet little win, especially considering I wasn’t pushing. No segment chasing, no speed goals. Just a good ride in the sunshine.
22k in just under 60 minutes, with 260 meters of climbing. All in all, a solid session.
Just back from a great long weekend in London. Good food, great company, a bit of sightseeing, and plenty of travel—trains, planes, and automobiles. Throw in a lot of walking and, yeah, it was a full-on weekend. Wouldn’t change a thing.
But I was definitely ready for the gym today. Called on ChatGPT for a reset row, and the session delivered—rolling intensity for 30 minutes. Enough rhythm and movement to help me find my balance again.
It’s Friday, and I’m away this weekend, so there won’t be much opportunity to hit the gym. As usual, I let ChatGPT know what was happening, and a plan was duly presented.
And it was just right—push, pull, row. A full session that left me feeling like the weekend could begin properly.
The energy is high, the excitement is rising, and the foundation’s been laid. The weekend started at the gym.
I wasn’t going to capture this one, just a short session, but then I thought, why not?
It’s been a couple of days since I got to the gym thanks to work commitments, and I found myself with an hour or so between calls. Head was melted. I needed to move.
So, off to the gym. I asked ChatGPT for a structured 30-minute row. It gave me a plan, I followed it. Then I threw in a few rounds of heavy sled pushes, because I needed more.
That’s it. Job done. Head cleared. Recharged for the afternoon.
The Sub-7 Experiment 