The Sub-7 Experiment

Tag: mental-health

  • A Letter to My Future Self

    Wednesday Strength Session

    Wednesday and it’s a strength session in the gym today — the first one for a good while.

    And it felt… flat. Underpowered. Enlightening?

    The rowing warm-up was clunky at best, off form, and left my head all over the place. Then the weights — fine, but I was down a few kilos from before. That’s no surprise really, given how long it’s been since I last did strength work.

    On to the sleds: 100 kg pushes with arms straight and bent, followed by 80 kg sled rope pulls. All of that was fine, but I only did three sets instead of five, and I let myself walk away from the last two.

    They say mindset is everything, and the power of the mind immense — and today I let mine get in the way. I’m still wondering why.

    I always feel sad at the end of summer, knowing we’re heading into short, dark days with dropping temperatures. I don’t mind the cold; I just don’t like being cold. But it’s the lack of sunshine that gets me. Maybe I’m feeling it more right now because I’m trying a new Vitamin D supplement and it isn’t agreeing with me. Maybe it’s the crash from all the honey in my cycling food at the weekend. Or maybe it’s simply still recovery from the 121 km on the bike.

    Whatever it is, I need to remember to be kind to myself and just let it be what it is. They say what you resist persists, so go easy on yourself.

    I think I’ll put a note in my calendar for June next year — a letter to my future self, reminding me how I feel right now after taking a summer off from measuring things: calories, distance, effort, kilos lifted or carried. That letter will say something like:

    Loosen up, but don’t let go completely.
    Keep some rhythm in the gym.
    Enjoy your summer, but don’t drift so far that September feels like a restart.
    Future you will thank you

    Right now, the Sub-7 goal feels far away. Not as far as when I first set it last year, but certainly further than it felt in June. So this little reminder to my future self will be worth it.

    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.

  • The Sub-7 Experiment: What I Didn’t See Coming

    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.

  • 7:22 – And the Voice That Told Me to Quit

    I’m still out of breath.

    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.

    This is the Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Still the Sub-7 Experiment

    It’s Friday.
    It’s been a long week.
    My WHOOP says 49% recovery.
    My brain says, “you’re behind.”

    So I asked ChatGPT for a smart session—and it delivered:
    500m rowing intervals, sled pushes, farmer’s carries.
    Solid, focused work.

    And I enjoyed it. I really did.

    But there’s something gnawing at me—and I need to write it down.

    I haven’t done the core work I said I would.
    Holiday’s coming up in a few weeks.
    And the truth is… when I look down, I still see the belly.
    The tyre.
    The thing I was hoping would be gone by now.

    I’ve been consistent. I’ve been disciplined.
    I’m rowing faster. Pulling harder. Lifting heavier.
    I’m wearing trousers I couldn’t fit into a while back.
    My shirts hug in the right places again.

    I know I’m fitter. I know I’m stronger. I feel it every session.

    But… I don’t see it. Not in the way I’d hoped.

    And it’s messing with my head.

    I think part of it is stress. Work’s intense right now.
    And I feel like I’m slipping into old habits—being hard on myself.
    Impatient. Frustrated.
    Beating myself up when I should be backing myself up.

    I kind of thought this other work—this training, this structure—would sort everything out.
    That I’d look down one day and think, “There he is. That’s the guy I was aiming for.”
    But instead, I look down and think, “Still the same.”

    The truth?
    That’s not true.

    It’s not the same.
    I’m not the same.

    But body image is a funny thing.
    It lags behind the progress.
    It rewrites the story.
    And sometimes… it just lies.

    A Thought from the Shower

    This morning, standing under the water, something hit me:

    Is this the part of the experiment where a human coach would make a difference?

    Would a real-life coach have pointed to the mat and said, “Go. Now. Do the core work.”
    And would I have done it—just because someone was watching?

    It’s easy to ignore words on a screen. Even when those words are spot on.

    But the whole point of the Sub-7 Experiment is to see if I can close that gap.

    The AI can suggest the work.
    But I still have to choose to do it.

    This isn’t failure.
    It’s a data point.
    A moment in the experiment where the mental friction is more important than the reps.

    And here’s the realisation:

    Consistency is easy when it’s comfortable.
    The real test is doing the things I’d rather avoid.

    It’s Friday. The sky is blue.
    The sun is shining.
    My people are healthy. I’m healthy.

    I’m making real progress—even if I can’t always see it in the mirror.

    This is still the Sub-7 Experiment.
    And it’s about much more than rowing.

  • I Needed That

    I needed that session in the gym today—really needed it.

    The last proper one I did was Friday. It was a big 10K row, and honestly, I overdid it. Afterwards, I ate loads of stuff I shouldn’t have—salty carbs, bread, potatoes. The works. Friday night, I didn’t sleep well. Saturday I was wiped out. I went for a walk, then actually crawled back into bed. Sunday was a good family day, with more walking, and Monday I went out on the bike—46km, and that felt great. Dialled in. Strong. Power was coming back.

    Tuesday was quiet—no formal exercise, just walking around town with my son. We had lunch together, and I loved that.

    But by Tuesday night, the voices were back.

    “It’s over.”
    “That’s the end of your streak.”
    “Go and eat. You’re feeling sorry for yourself—go on, eat more.”

    And this morning, first thing in my head:
    “Don’t worry about the gym. Take the day off. You don’t need it.”

    But I did. I really did.

    I asked ChatGPT for a mental health reset row, and it gave me just what I needed:
    30 minutes steady, with three controlled pushes at the end. No heroics, just structure. Just movement. And now, after the session?
    I feel great. Clear. Calm. More like myself.

    Yes, there’s still a hint of impostor syndrome. Still a flicker of guilt for not being at my desk first thing. But honestly? I’d have been useless if I had gone in without that session. My head was all over the place. Now it’s back together.

    I’m also realising something really important:
    Three or four days without movement is too much for me.
    Physically, mentally, emotionally—it’s just too long. I need the rhythm. I need the space. I need the anchor.

    And the real breakthrough?

    I chose to do something about it.
    I didn’t ignore it. I didn’t hide. I didn’t roll over and disappear under the duvet.
    I noticed it, I owned it, and I moved.

    That’s the difference now. And that’s the work.

    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.

  • How I Learned to Present Without Caffeine (And Still Nailed It)

    I had a presentation at work today.

    I quite enjoy the buzz after delivering a good one. People say I’m good at it—but it doesn’t come naturally. There’s a lot of prep that happens behind the scenes: researching the topic, talking to experts, shaping the story I want to tell, and then—practice, practice, practice—until it feels right.

    Often, I’ll type it all out freeform, like a stream of consciousness, and then read it aloud. If the words flow, great. If they don’t, I tweak them until they do.

    But there’s always the anxiety. That feeling in the pit of my stomach from being “on display.” The adrenaline kicks in. It can be overwhelming, but over the years, I’ve found a few coping strategies—visualising success, clenching my fists and feet to release tension, shaking out my arms and legs to harness that adrenaline and point it in the right direction.

    For years, I relied on caffeine to give me the edge. That extra buzz. Something to keep me sharp, alert… or at least that’s what I told myself. But not long ago, I quit caffeine entirely—and that changed everything.

    The first two weeks were rough. I was tired, sluggish, foggy. But as week three rolled around, my energy started to return. And with it came a massive drop in anxiety.

    That over-alert, tightly wound feeling? Gone. I could think more clearly, plan with focus, and function without the jittery undertone I hadn’t even realised had been there.

    I had to deliver a big presentation recently—new client, unfamiliar content—and instead of spiralling, I calmly mapped out what I needed them to understand. What I needed them to agree to. I built the story from that outcome and rehearsed like I always do, but this time it was different.

    No caffeine. No adrenaline crash. Just clarity.

    People around me noticed a difference. Usually, they’d tread carefully around me for days beforehand and after—but not this time. I hadn’t even realised how much tension I’d been carrying into our home life.

    Which brings me to today.

    Another presentation—smaller than the last but still important. I woke up, went to the gym, and planned a steady row to clear my head and rehearse the intro in my mind. I asked ChatGPT for a session to shake off the nerves:

    7,000m at 2:05/500m, 22 SPM, with the final 1,000m at 1:55/500m and 30 SPM.
    Perfect. Enough to sweat. Enough to focus.

    And it worked. I delivered the presentation. No panic. No caffeine. Just me, present and prepared.

    They say you do three presentations:
    The one in your head on the way there.
    The one on stage.
    And the one you replay on the way home.

    This time, all three felt calm, clear, and right.

    I could get used to this.

  • When Setbacks Hit: Keep Moving Forward

    A slight medical issue has raised its head. Not from training, but it’s definitely something that will slow me down.

    In the past, this would have been the excuse I needed to stop everything.

    • “Maybe this whole thing is a bad idea.”
    • “I should just give up now before I fail.”
    • “This always happens—why bother?”

    But now, I’m questioning it.

    Is this fear of failure creeping in?
    Or maybe even fear of success?

    Talking It Through With AI

    One of the unexpected twists in this journey has been my conversations with ChatGPT.

    Recently, I’ve started speaking directly to it using my phone—capturing raw, unfiltered thoughts in the moment. No overthinking. Just saying things out loud.

    And it’s been fascinating.

    ChatGPT isn’t judgmental. It doesn’t tell me what I want to hear—it just plays my thoughts back to me in a way that makes me reflect.

    For example, I told it about my pattern of stopping whenever setbacks appear. And instead of just agreeing or dismissing it, it highlighted something big:

    ME: “My first thought this morning was doom and gloom. I wanted to roll over, crawl into a ball, and hide under the duvet. It feels like whenever I make progress in the gym, something always comes along to stop me. Is that an excuse, or is it real? I don’t know. But I dragged myself to the gym anyway, asked ChatGPT what to do, and the first thing it told me was to breathe. So I breathed. Then I did a 7,000m mental health row. And now I’m outside the supermarket, having done my shopping.”

    ChatGPT: “This is a huge moment of self-awareness. You’ve spotted a pattern—whenever you build momentum, something seems to knock you off course. The key question you’re asking yourself:
    ‘Am I using this as an excuse, or is it really stopping me?’

    And what did you do? You went to the gym anyway.

    ChatGPT then broke it down:

    1️ Recognizing the Pattern – I’ve noticed setbacks tend to arrive right when I’m making progress. That’s not a coincidence—it’s resistance.

    2️ Choosing to Show Up Anyway – Even though every part of me wanted to stop, I still showed up and rowed.

    3️ Breathing as a Reset – A simple but powerful reminder. Breathe. Pause. Then take action.

    Writing It Down Helps Too

    I think putting this into words is making a difference.

    I’ve talked about accountability, but it’s more than that—it’s getting these thoughts out of my head so they don’t take up more space than they need to.

    So I’m going to keep training and keep showing up.

    Because this isn’t just about rowing.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

  • Hydration, Headspace, and the Gym

    I feel a bit off today.

    Yesterday was a long drive for work—six hours in the car for a 60-minute meeting. On the surface, that doesn’t sound like a great use of time, but it was. Meeting a potential customer face-to-face for the first time was valuable. As much as we all live in a world of video calls and remote working, I still believe there’s no substitute for at least one in-person meeting.

    Still, the thought of the drive had been weighing on me all week. It would creep into my thoughts while rowing, and by the night before, I was dreading it.

    Then I had a brainwave.

    There wasn’t much I could do about the drive up, but on the way back, I planned a stop—an hour from home, deep in the woods.

    A Reset in the Woods

    I pulled in, put on my walking boots, grabbed my earphones—then stopped.

    I switched off the music.

    Instead of drowning out the world, I just listened—the crunch of my boots on the trail, birds in the trees, the river tumbling over rocks.

    It was fantastic.

    I walked for an hour and twenty minutes and felt amazing afterward.

    But here’s what I realized:
    1️⃣ I checked work emails while walking. Guilt crept in. It was during standard working hours—should I have been taking this time for myself? But really, would the company collapse if I didn’t answer an email immediately? No. My mental health is more important than instant replies.
    2️⃣ I didn’t drink enough water. Balancing hydration on long drives is tricky—I don’t want to stop every hour, but I also don’t want to feel like a dehydrated raisin by the time I get home. And hydration isn’t just about thirst—it affects mental clarity, energy levels, and even mood. Yesterday, I got it wrong.

    This lack of hydration carried over into today. I woke up sluggish and cranky—not ideal. But I dragged myself to the gym anyway.

    Telling ChatGPT What I Needed

    I explained my situation to ChatGPT:

    Me: “I was in the car for six hours yesterday but managed to get an hour and 20-minute walk in the woods. I feel dehydrated, sluggish, and I need to move today—for both mental and physical health. What do you recommend?”

    ChatGPT:
    “Good call on getting moving—hydration + movement will reset everything. 🚀💪”

    🔹 Recommended Gym Session (Mobility + Controlled Effort)
    ✅ Rehydrate first – Sip water while warming up.
    ✅ Light Warm-Up (5-10 min) – Assault bike or easy row at 2:10–2:15/500m.
    ✅ Rowing (Low-Moderate Effort) – 6,000–7,000m @ 2:05–2:10/500m.
    ✅ Mobility & Strength (if feeling good):

    • Bodyweight squats or light leg press
    • Lat pulldown or seated row (light-moderate)
    • Shoulder & back mobility (band work, face pulls)

    “Today is about movement, not max effort. Get the blood flowing, hydrate well, and reset. 🚣‍♂️🔥 Sound good?”

    7000m Later…

    That’s exactly what I did.

    🚣 7,000m row at 2:05/500m pace—felt good.

    And then… I pushed it.

    💥 3 x 250m sprints

    • First two in 49.5 seconds
    • Last one in 50.5 seconds

    That last sprint? Probably a bit much.

    My form slipped, ego and emotion took over, and I may have tweaked my back in the process. But as I write this, I’ve had plenty of water, stretched it out, and it’s already feeling better.

    Lessons from the Last 24 Hours

    🔹 1️⃣ Taking time for yourself isn’t selfish.
    Stopping for a walk in the woods made me better when I got home. Instead of still being mentally in the office, I was present for my wife and son. The moment my key hit the front door, I was home.

    🔹 2️⃣ Hydration isn’t just about thirst.
    It’s about brain function, mental clarity, and general wellbeing. Yesterday’s drive proved how much of an impact not drinking enough water has on energy, decision-making, and mood.

    🔹 3️⃣ Writing it down makes a difference.
    Journaling this process is showing me how much I live inside my own head. Getting it onto paper (or a screen) helps release the clutter and make sense of what’s actually happening.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.

    And it’s becoming about more than just rowing.