I have just walked back in from the shed after a good session on the rower.
I am really starting to like this new version of ChatGPT. It feels like it remembers more of the coaching conversation as we go, which makes the whole thing feel more joined up. Today it had me doing 5 minute intervals, and it was a proper session. Enough to feel it, not so much that it wiped me out.
What has surprised me is what I am starting to miss.
I thought that once I had the rower in the shed, that would be it. Training at home, no commute, no waiting for machines, no distractions. And a lot of that is true. But I have realised I miss the people at the gym more than I expected.
I am not a big talker there. It is usually just a quick hello to the staff on the desk, a nod to the regulars, and then everyone gets on with their own programme. Headphones in, sets to do, not much conversation. But there is still a sense of other humans being around you, all doing their thing. I did not think I would miss that, and yet I do.
It is a small thing, but the nods and the “alright?” moments matter more than I gave them credit for.
Rowing will always be the main thread. The shed is perfect for that. But I think I will still go to the gym now and then for strength work and, if I am honest, for that tiny bit of human connection. A different kind of fuel.
Today’s row kept the body ticking over, but it also taught me something: I need both the quiet of the shed and the presence of other people now and then.
This is The Sub-7 Experiment, and we are still learning.
There was ice on the car. The heating was on in the house. Everyone else was warm and cosy. It would have been very easy to stay in bed, put something on the TV and write the whole morning off as “rest.”
Instead, I scraped the ice off the car, put my gym gear on and went.
Same routine as the last few days: I took my WHOOP scores and fed them into ChatGPT. Recovery, strain, sleep, stress, all of it. This time the response was different. Instead of another rowing session, it came back with a strength and conditioning workout.
The plan was very specific. Exact machines. Exact reps. Exact weights.
There was only one problem. The weights it suggested were based on the numbers from a couple of months ago, pre-surgery, when I was training regularly and feeling stronger. I am not quite there yet.
So I asked the obvious question: are you sure about those weights, given that we have not done this in a while?
To its credit, Coach GPT backed off. It lowered the recommended loads to something more realistic, and in the end they felt pretty much perfect. Hard work, but not stupid.
There was another small win before I even started. On Thursday I had left my heel wedges at the gym. I assumed they were gone. When I walked in this morning, the receptionist handed them back. Someone had found them and turned them in. A tiny thing, but it felt like a good sign.
Session done, I finished on the rower with two 250 metre sprints. The first one was fast but messy. I got a bit carried away, my wedges slipped and my feet came out of the shoes with about 18 metres left. Almost there, not quite. The second sprint was much more controlled.
I am counting all of this as prototyping for the wedges. When the rower finally arrives at home, I want that setup dialled in so I can just strap in and go.
Right now the car thermometer says minus 0.5°C. It is still cold, but I feel great. I have a solid session in the bag, I am not wrecked, and the next job is to go home, rouse the rest of the house and get everyone out for a walk around the lake.
Training done. Family next. A good Sunday.
Another good session logged. This is The Sub-7 Experiment. And it continues.
I have just come out of the gym after my first proper session in a while. Last week was a family trip to London, which was brilliant, but it knocked me out of my routine.
This morning was one of those days where I really did not fancy going at all. WHOOP had my recovery in the yellow. Sleep was fine, stress and strain yesterday were nothing dramatic, but I still felt flat. It would have been very easy to decide that today was not a gym day and leave it at that.
Instead, I tried the new approach I have been talking about. I took my WHOOP numbers and dropped them into ChatGPT. In return, I got a clear session plan with target figures that matched how my body was supposed to feel on a “medium” day.
The structure was simple. Five minutes of warm up at a set pace to get moving. Then three blocks of 2,000 metres on the rower, again at a set pace. Nothing heroic. Just long, steady, repeatable work.
On paper it looked almost too easy, especially with that “you should probably train” yellow score. In reality it was exactly what I needed. Each 2,000 metres felt long and cruisy. Hard enough that I knew I was doing something, nowhere near the point of blowing up. By the end of the third block I felt like I had trained, but I did not feel broken.
The bigger difference was in my head. I walked into the gym tired and not really in the mood. I walked out feeling lighter and quietly pleased with myself. The combination of WHOOP data and ChatGPT as coach gave me just enough structure to get over the hump of not wanting to start.
It is early days for this experiment, but right now it has promise. If this is what a “didn’t want to go” day can look like, I am curious to see what happens on the days when I actually feel ready.
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.
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.
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.
It’s Monday, and I woke up looking forward to going to the gym.
I could still feel the weekend’s row and heavy sled session in my shoulders, but I had a feeling a good workout would loosen things up, and it did.
I asked ChatGPT for a session, and it gave me the same one as last time. That threw me a little. I voiced concern about repeating the same structure too often, worrying that boredom might creep in, that I’d lose interest. But the response was simple and sound: consistency is key.
I’ve read that before, and now I’m starting to understand it. Consistency builds form. Builds strength. It all stacks up. And it’s all moving me toward the real goal: breaking 7 minutes over 2000 meters on the rower.
So, I did the session. Started with a 2000-meter warm-up row, moved into a full circuit on the weight machines, added sled work and core training.
This time, I nudged a few weights up, nothing dramatic, a kilo here, five there, just enough for that subtle progressive overload. Enough for it to feel like I was working.
I finished with two 250-meter sprints on the rower, both at speeds I used to dream about, which is very pleasing but what I also noticed as what used to be a stretch pace is now my warm-up and cooldown zone.
The whole session felt strong, controlled, and satisfying.
When I got home, I bought myself a couple of new t-shirts. The description said they’re cut to show off the arms and chest, but a bit kinder to the middle. A little vanity? Maybe. But also a reward. If I like them, I’ll wear them with pride. And if I don’t, no harm, they’ll sit quietly in the cupboard.
Another session done. A good one, structured, focused on weight and power. Felt great. There is a different buzz after a weights session. Not the same as after a long row, maybe it’s different feel good chemicals in the brain, but it’s definitely a different kind of energy. I walked out feeling invigorated.
A couple of small but important wins today.
First, the gym was empty. No waiting, no worrying, just me and the weights. It felt like I had my own private setup.
Second, and this might sound silly, I hung my car keys up.
There’s a little box with hooks by the gym door. All the big lads hang their keys there as they walk in. I’ve always noticed it. Today, my long-sleeve shirt didn’t have pockets, so I had nowhere else to put my keys. But instead of clinging to them or finding a workaround, I put them in the box. It felt weirdly significant, a quiet statement: I belong here too.
Who knows, maybe those other guys are just as insecure as I sometimes feel, only better at hiding it behind bravado. But for once, that wasn’t my concern.
Another shift I’ve noticed lately: I’m prepping with Coach GPT the night before. Not just turning up and winging it, but actively thinking about what I want to do, how I want to feel, what works and what doesn’t. I’ll swap out exercises if needed, so by the time I wake up, I’ve already mentally walked into the gym. It’s a big change, and it feels like progress.
There’s still plenty going on, year end looming and all that, but today’s win was quiet and personal. Keys in the box. That’ll do.
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.
Today I rowed a 7:22 for 2,000 meters, a full 7.5 seconds faster than my last test. That’s a big leap. And even though I was quietly hoping to hit 7:15, I’m genuinely proud of this.
Because this wasn’t just a fitness test, it was a headspace test.
These last few days have been heavy. Work stuff has knocked my confidence. I’ve felt jaded. Tired. The kind of mental fatigue that clings to your legs and lungs even before you’ve moved. Whoop put my recovery at 59%. And honestly, I felt it.
Part of me, the old voice, said not today. “Wait until you’re feeling better.” “Do it next week.” “Don’t make a scene. Just row easy. Skip it.”
But I needed this today. Not because I had something to prove, but because an older version of me still wants proof. Proof that the training is working. Proof that this is going somewhere. Proof that I’m not just going through the motions.
The Middle Bit—Where It Got Messy
The first 500 meters were inconsistent, too fast, too slow, couldn’t find my rhythm. Then with 800 meters to go, the real moment hit:
“Just stop.”
That voice again. Not shouting, not panicking just calmly suggesting I give up. And honestly? It was persuasive.
But I didn’t stop. I refocused. I locked into form. I listened to my breathing. And I found something there, not a burst of power, but a thread to follow.
By the time I hit the final 500 meters, my lungs were screaming. My legs were burning. The last 300 was ragged, messy, all over the place. But I held on. I kept rowing. And I crossed the line in 7:22.
The Reflection—Now That I’ve Sat With It
I’m home now. I’ve been sitting with this in the car, and I think I’m feeling a bit… sad. Or maybe it’s disappointment. I’m not quite sure.
I didn’t hit 7:15, which was the target I had in my head. And now I’m wondering; was that just the old me again? Not being realistic, not being SMART with my goals? Or was it simply that I was at 59% recovery and the tank just wasn’t full?
Either way, this session has shown me something valuable:
Breaking the 7-minute barrier isn’t just a stretch goal. It’s serious work.
And I’m still a long way from it.
Maybe that’s what I’m really sitting with, the weight of that reality. It’s not discouraging, though. Not really. If anything, it’s clarifying. I thought for a moment that I might need to change the name of the blog to“ Just a bit below The Sub-7 Experiment”, because maybe I was already knocking on the door of breaking it.
I’m not.
Not yet.
Today gave me something better than a perfect result. It gave me a new baseline. 7:22. Solid. Honest. Earned.
And that’s where the next leg of the journey begins.
The Sub-7 Experiment 