The Sub-7 Experiment

Tag: Presentation Skills

  • Row, Prepare, Deliver, Recover

    It’s Thursday, and it’s been quite a week.

    I had a presentation on Wednesday. The topic itself wasn’t massive. It was simply to talk about something I’ve been doing at work. But the way I wanted to do it was new. Different. And I wasn’t 100% sure how it would be received.

    I’d adapted a PechaKucha-style format: fast-moving slides, short bursts of speaking, and a hard limit on how long you can linger. The whole point is to avoid death by PowerPoint and keep the energy up.

    What I really wanted to do, though, was tell a story about a deal I’ve been working on. Not the technology. Not the bits and bytes. The human side of it. And that’s why I was nervous, because that’s not the default setting in a room full of tech people.

    So I used the week properly.

    Monday I did a row to clear my head. Tuesday was the main prep day, even though I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I also got out for a walk to keep myself moving. Wednesday I delivered it.

    And it went down a storm.

    I absolutely loved it. The audience really liked it too, and I got loads of great feedback afterwards. I spent the rest of Wednesday riding that wave of euphoria and adrenaline.

    So here we are on Thursday. Back to normal. I’ve just done 30 minutes on the rowing machine at a reasonable pace. Enough to make me sweat and puff a bit. Just to settle the system again.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment: trying new things at work, and still rowing away in the background to keep my head right.

  • 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.