Interesting day today on two fronts.
First: my back was a little sore when I woke up, but I still wanted to get to the gym. I know I probably won’t get another session in this weekend, so I asked ChatGPT for a distance row. The plan was smart: a gentle 1,000m warm-up, then three blocks of 3,000m, gradually building the pace. After each 3K, I’d check in with my back and decide whether to continue or stop.
And I did exactly that.
That’s what stood out to me first—not the workout itself, but the fact I actually listened. I followed the advice instead of charging ahead like I might have in the past and avoided turning a sore back into something worse.
The second thing? A subtle but surprising mindset shift.
At my gym, there are two rowers side by side. I always use the one on the right. Midway through my first 3K, I noticed a guy eyeing the rowers from the static bike. No problem—he disappeared somewhere else.
But just as I was about to start my final 3K, he came back. He sat down next to me with a bit of a flourish, cranked the damper to 10, and launched into it.
Old me? I’d have taken that as a challenge. Tried to match him stroke for stroke. Maybe even tried to bury him.
New me? I had a plan. And I stuck to it.
I held 27 strokes per minute at a steady 1:59/500m. I kept my rhythm. He was at 34 strokes per minute, burning calories fast but looking all over the place. When he hit 1,000m, I was at 1,500. When he stopped at 2,000m, I was passing 2,800.
I didn’t break form. I didn’t chase. I just rowed.
It would be easy to say I had an advantage—after all, I’m training for this. But what I’m most proud of is the restraint. The shift in mindset. I didn’t let ego take over. I didn’t go looking for a moment of glory. I followed the plan. I trusted it.
And that, more than the numbers, is what progress looks like to me.
This is the Sub-7 Experiment.
The Sub-7 Experiment 