The Sub-7 Experiment

Tag: blog

  • The Chassis Is There

    I haven’t done one of these posts for a while.

    It’s funny, the other day I found a message to my future self. It was in my calendar. I’d obviously written it and put it in there when I came back from holiday last year. It was a reminder not to let myself go this summer. Ease off a little bit maybe, but not to let myself go the way I did last year.

    It was quite funny really, because I honestly don’t feel as though I’ve properly got going since I wrote that message.

    And yet, when I look at the evidence, that’s not entirely true.

    My cruising speed on the rower is a lot higher. I don’t think I’m any closer to breaking the sub-7 2K yet, but my cruising speed is there. I’m fitter. Aerobically fitter. On Sunday I went out and did 80 kilometres on the bike and didn’t really think about it. It was just there and done.

    So the work is still happening. I just don’t feel like I’ve got going with the same intensity I had last year.

    So what needs to change?

    I think I need to start blogging more again, because that was where a lot of the accountability came from. More than that, it was where the reflection came from.

    My routine after rowing in the shed needs to change. At the moment I finish the session with my music still on, walk back into the kitchen, make my recovery drink, log my calories, log the workout with ChatGPT, go upstairs, shower, and start work.

    At no point in that sequence do I stop and reflect on what I’ve just done.

    I’m doing the exercise. I’m just not logging it properly in my own head. I’m not writing it down. I’m certainly not reflecting on it. It’s just a case of getting out, doing the session, coming back in and moving on to the next thing.

    That reflection piece needs to be reinstated.

    Maybe the new rule is simple: when I finish on the rower and come back into the house, I take the headphones off. Then, while I’m making my recovery drink, I speak into ChatGPT and do the reflection there and then.

    That used to happen naturally when I went to the gym. I’d finish the session, get back to the car, sit there for a minute and think about what I’d just done before starting the engine and heading to the next thing. Training in the shed is brilliant, but it has removed that little pause.

    I need to put it back.

    The work is still there. The aerobic capacity is still there. The chassis is there. But I’m still a long way from sub-7, and I need to get stronger. That’s the next proper conversation with Coach ChatGPT.

    So yes, time to get back in the groove, but gently. If I turn it into a chore, I’ll switch off again.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment. Still reflecting. Still working. Maybe not quite as intensely as before, but there is a plan to change that.

  • Mojo, Meetings, and What Actually Matters

    I haven’t written for a while.

    It’s been tough. Most of December, all of January, and the first bit of February I’ve been coming up here “looking for my mojo.” I’m not even sure I ever had a mojo in the first place, but it became the story in my head: I’ve lost it.

    It hasn’t helped that it feels like it has rained every day this year where I live. The sun barely shows up. I also think I put too much stock in the idea that once I had a rowing machine in the shed, everything would click and I’d train every day.

    On top of that, the new process I built in December – WHOOP scores into ChatGPT, get a tailored session – hasn’t been working the way I hoped. Not because the logic is bad, but because of how I react to it.

    When ChatGPT looks at my WHOOP recovery and sleep and says, “easy day today,” I treat that as a full stop. “Right, that’s it, we’re done.” No movement. No walk. Nothing. It’s basically become an easy out, and I’ll always find an easy out if you give me one.

    The “mojo hunt” has turned into the same thing. If I tell myself I’m looking for my mojo and I can’t find it, then I have an excuse to sit on the back foot and do nothing.

    I still want to row. I still want a sub-7 2,000 metres. That goal hasn’t changed. What I’ve lost sight of is that exercise, for me, is about far more than chasing a single number on the monitor.

    The rowing – and the moving in general – is primarily about my mental health.

    Case in point: earlier this week I was heading into a potentially confrontational meeting. I knew the people in the room probably weren’t going to like what I had to tell them. The old me would have carried that anxiety all day.

    Instead, I went into the shed.

    I told ChatGPT about the meeting and asked for a workout that would help channel the adrenaline and set me up properly. It came back with a plan that turned out to be perfect. By the time I’d finished the row, the energy was controlled, not chaotic.

    I hadn’t even called the meeting – someone else had – but when it started I decided I was going to drive it. I would control the narrative. Everyone would get their say, everyone’s points would be noted, but at the end of the day there were only two options on the table. They could go one way or the other. That’s it.

    I went in with that calm, directed energy from the row and nailed it.

    Fast forward two days. I’ve just come out of the shed after another row and another thinking session, and the penny has finally dropped:

    I never had “mojo” in the first place. What I had was movement. When I move, I look after myself. When I stop, everything starts to fog over.

    My mental health depends on exercise. Full stop.

    And so what if I’ve put on a few pounds lately. That does not define me. What defines me is the state of my head and my ability to deal with things calmly and rationally – whether that’s work stuff, dad stuff, husband stuff or just being a decent friend. That is what counts.

    The next step isn’t hunting for some mystical spark. It’s much simpler and much more boring:

    • Go outside, even when it’s raining.
    • Get back to walking.
    • Go to the gym.
    • See people, even if it’s just a nod to the receptionist or a quick hello to the regulars.

    I need the physical work and a bit of human contact. If I keep those two things in the mix, everything else won’t magically fall into place, but it will get clearer again. And clarity is what I need: for my mental health, my physical health, to be a decent dad and husband, and to be kinder to myself.

    I’d lost sight of that.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment: not just chasing 2,000 metres, but remembering to look after myself.

  • 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.