The Sub-7 Experiment

Tag: blog

  • 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.

  • A New Phase Begins

    Stream-of-Consciousness Check-In:

    Just out of the gym—had a really good session. I’m well-pleased with myself after last week’s 17,000-metre row on Saturday (that’s 10.5 miles, by the way!) and my 7:22 2K test on Monday.

    I thought it was time to switch things up a bit, since I’m going on holiday in a month. Still keeping an eye on rowing and that sub-seven goal, but I’m adding more weights now. I’m in the gym every day, and I’m getting so much out of it—not just physically, but mentally. That’s honestly the biggest takeaway so far: how much more grounded I feel, and how much better I am at dealing with things that used to derail me. The little things still pop up, but they don’t spin me out anymore.

    So yeah, still rowing—but now the weights are for me. Really for me. Why not work towards looking and feeling better by the pool, having a bit more confidence? I’m 55, not old, not saggy—still got plenty of life left. I refuse to be old. That’s not delusional, it’s just that I see too many people just stop, and I’m not going to be one of them.

    I’m particularly proud today because I went to the gym much later than usual—missed my normal window between the early and midday crowds. I was already half-talking myself out of doing anything except the rower (the “big dark cave” of the weights area is still intimidating). But today, I went in. Other people were there, but I still did it. I’m a long way from feeling at home in there, but it’s getting better.

    Honestly, I’m delighted. This is the next phase. It started today. ChatGPT came up with a brilliant plan and I executed it. I’m chuffed to bits.

    Now: time for lunch and back to work. Just wanted to share that with you—hopefully you’re as excited as I am, because I feel great.

    This is the Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Reflection: More Than Just a Rowing Goal

    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.

    And here’s the bit I never expected:

    I’m comfortable with this version of me.

    And that’s something I’ve never said before.