The Sub-7 Experiment

Blog

  • Three Weeks to Go: Testing the Legs, Testing the Head

    Big Day on the Bike

    It was a big day on the bike yesterday: 121 km and 1,600 metres of climbing.

    Everything went well. Fueling was good, I tried a new recipe for cycling food with honey, banana, dates, and oats. For the last decade I’ve avoided processed and refined sugar, which makes it tricky to prepare carb-dense food for a six-hour ride. The sheer volume needed can turn into one long eating fest. Adding honey made it feel indulgent, but it worked really well.

    The bike worked well too. Over the summer I’ve made a series of upgrades and experimented with tyre pressures to dampen road buzz, the vibrations that travel up through the saddle and handlebars on poor surfaces. There’s always a compromise: smoother main roads with heavy traffic and impatient drivers, or quieter back roads that are rougher but calm. I’ll take the quiet roads every time.

    The final upgrade went on late Saturday night, gel pads along the tops of the handlebars and new plush bar tape. They’ve made a real difference. I can still feel the bumps and imperfections, but the sharp edges have gone. I finished the 121 km without the usual pain in my arms, wrists, and shoulders. A great win.

    The legs worked well too. This was my first long cycle in about three weeks, but once I warmed up the ride flowed nicely. Still, I think I need to do more research into cycling training. Compared to rowing, where I train almost every day, cycling has longer gaps between sessions. In those gaps, the old voices creep back in, casting doubt and asking what the point of it all is.

    At around 105 km, I hit a steep 10% gradient. I got off the bike for a few minutes and walked. My thinking was simple: I’m here to enjoy myself, not kill myself. And it was the right call, a quick reset, a sip of water, and I was back spinning away to the finish.

    All in all, it was a great day out on the bike. The rain held off, the sun even came out for a while, and the headwind kept things challenging all the way. With three weeks to go until the big event — 150 km with 1,900 metres of climbing — I’m in good shape both mentally and physically.

    This morning I’m off to the gym for a row to shake the tiredness from my legs.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment — and these days, it’s heavy on the cycling.

  • Midweek Row

    Quick gym session today. Five minute warm up, then three eight minute steady sets at 2:05 pace and 22 strokes per minute. Rounded it off with a couple of 250m sprints and a cool down.

    Felt great, exactly what I needed.

    120 km on the bike coming up this weekend, weather permitting.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • The Point Is Not Dribbling Into My Soup

    July was a break month. I called it “movement, not measurement” — no calorie counting, no chasing numbers, no obsessing over pace or distance. Instead, it was about moving because I wanted to, not because I had to. And it worked.

    There were plenty of walks, a few gym sessions, and a lot of time spent with family. Camping, holidays, and just enjoying being Dad. And yet, even with the lighter approach, July gave me one of the biggest breakthroughs of the summer: I realised my rowing form was wrong. For months I’d been driving off my toes instead of my heels, which explained the knee pain I’d been ignoring. With heel wedges and a focus on connection, I started the awkward process of re-learning how to row. It felt strange, disconnected, even underpowered, but it was a step in the right direction.

    August was tougher. Coming back, I was hit by frustration: sore knees, comfort eating, a few pounds up on the scale, and the voices in my head louder than they’d been in a long time. The ones that say, “What’s the point? Stop now.” But in the middle of that I found an answer: the point is not becoming an old man dribbling into my soup ruing the day i decided to stop moving. The point is staying strong, independent, and capable.

    So I kept going. Rebuilding form on the rower. Long, hilly rides on the bike — including a brutal 112 km in rain, wind, and navigational mishaps that turned into a bigger ride than planned. No coffee stops, soaked to the skin, but proud I stuck it out. That cup of tea at the end tasted like a medal.

    By the end of the month, structure was back. Gym sessions, meditation rows when my head was scattered, and one big endurance block: two × 45 minute blocks on the rower with a 20-minute bike in between. Over 21 km rowed in total, despite being under the weather. Proof that the base fitness is still there.

    So here we are at the start of September. July gave me the space to reset. August gave me the chance to face setbacks head-on and still move forward. Now it’s time to sharpen things again — with a 120 km ride on the horizon and the 150 km event at the end of the month. And beyond that, the Sub-7 Experiment continues.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Ride, Rest, Row

    Quick training update today.
    Yesterday was a rest day after the 112k bike ride, and I still felt it in my legs this morning. I went to the gym for a recovery row, 7,000m at a slow stroke rate, strong pulls, and all about form over speed.

    Ride, rest, row. It works.

    It was exactly what I needed. I felt great afterwards and had the headspace to reflect on Sunday’s ride. I’ve cycled further before, and certainly faster, but doing that distance in bad weather and on a day when I wasn’t feeling it makes it all the more satisfying in hindsight.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Wind, Rain, and a Bit More Than Planned

    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.

  • Rebuilding From the Heels Up

    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.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Movement, Not Measurement

    It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything.

    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.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Between the Jiggly Bits and the Split Times

    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.

    Thanks for reading.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Finding the Groove at 1:49

    My first commitment of the day cleared early, and that gave me the chance I was hoping for, to get to the gym and onto the rowing machine.

    Today’s plan was all about preparing for another 2K test later this week. ChatGPT suggested a ten-minute warm-up followed by 4 x 250m sprints at a race pace of 1:49/500m.

    It felt good to be moving with purpose. I found a groove about 100 meters into the first set, so I stayed with it.

    I ended up doing ten sets of 250m, all within the 1:49 target, with the last three a little quicker again.
    It was controlled. Not maxed out. Not chasing a time.
    Just strong, clean work.

    And that sadness from yesterday? Writing helped loosen it, but I didn’t chase it. I didn’t try to fix it. I just let it be. And like most things, it passed.

    I’m learning that sometimes, that’s all it needs, not solving, just sitting with.

    It’s Tuesday. Work is calling. And I’m walking into the day sharper and steadier.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Sitting with the Sad Day

    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.

    And that’s just magic.