Tag: writing

  • Missing the Gym, Just a Little

    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.

  • A New Coach in the Room

    It feels like I have a new coach.
    You might remember that I’ve been asking ChatGPT to prepare workouts and coaching advice to help me row 2,000 metres in under seven minutes. That is the whole point of The Sub-7 Experiment. Can I use AI to help me achieve a fitness goal.

    When I first tried this, the model available to me was GPT 4.0 and it was good. I set up the role, gave it the context, kept the conversation alive, and each day I told it how I was feeling. It responded with the workout for that day. That simple rhythm worked well.

    Then 4.1 came along. The improvements were small but noticeable. It held context better, got confused less often, and could handle my slightly lazy and vague questions more easily. As with most tech, each release pushed things forward.

    Earlier this year GPT 5.0 arrived with a huge amount of hype. It was supposed to push ChatGPT into a whole new league. PhD-level reasoning. Better accuracy. A genuine step up.

    The reality was mixed.
    Yes, it produced better code for a different project I was working on. Yes, it had more “thinking” capacity and could reason more deeply without me having to explicitly tell it to think. That part was a massive improvement.

    But as a conversationalist it was a step backwards.
    It forgot things. It lost context. It got confused about tasks. The backlash was so strong that OpenAI reinstated version 4.1 as a choice because so many people preferred to keep using it. It felt like my coach had left the building.

    I worked around it with careful prompting, but it was frustrating. The Sub-7 Experiment relies on continuity and rhythm, and something was always slipping.

    Which is why it now feels like I have a new coach. GPT 5.1 has arrived and it feels different in a very good way. The tone is consistent. The help it offers is actually useful. It anticipates the next step instead of fumbling it. It feels like an upgrade in the true sense of the word.

    Let me explain why this matters.

    I have a WHOOP device and I’ve used it for almost two years. Before ChatGPT became part of my training, WHOOP was my only guide. It sits on my wrist and picks up all sorts of measurements: heart rate, skin temperature, strain, sleep quality and plenty more.
    Every morning the app shows three dials. Yesterday’s strain, today’s recovery level, and last night’s sleep. When you start a workout you tell WHOOP what you’re doing and it gives you a target strain. When you hit it, the band vibrates and tells you to stop. Simple. Clever. And it worked well.

    But in the last few months I’ve been questioning the value.
    The subscription model has changed. The promise of free device upgrades for active subscribers has been replaced by an “uplift fee”. My renewal is in February and it will cost a lot more to keep going into my third year. And that makes me ask what I actually need it for.

    Most of the data WHOOP collects I don’t really use. I know how well I slept because I was there. What I actually value is recovery guidance and strain targets. And there are other devices out there that do similar things for a simple one-off cost. Polar Loop is one I’m looking at seriously.

    So I turned to ChatGPT 5.1 for help. Reviews. Recommendations. Thoughts based on my training. And one of the threads pointed out something obvious: I have not been using most of WHOOP’s data anyway. Not deeply. And the only thing that truly matters is the workout planning, which comes from CoachGPT.

    I asked if there was any way for ChatGPT to access WHOOP data directly. It said no, the APIs are not available yet. But then it made the suggestion that genuinely impressed me.

    It told me exactly which two screens in the WHOOP app to screenshot each morning. It told me to upload them, and it would analyse everything it needed: recovery, sleep, strain, HRV, and readiness. It would then produce a fully tailored workout for that day. And if it thinks I need a rest day, it will tell me that too.

    I have used this new process for the last few days and it is genuinely brilliant.
    Two screenshots. Upload. Instant plan. Clear reasoning. Exactly what it expects from me. Exactly what to avoid. Exactly how hard to push.

    And it works.
    The coaching is better.
    The structure is better.
    The whole system feels like something new.

    Well done, ChatGPT 5.1.
    This is The Sub-7 Experiment.
    Recovering using structured data.

  • 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.

  • Training with AI: More Than Just the Plan

    When I first thought about the Sub-7 Experiment, the core idea was simple: could I use modern AI, specifically ChatGPT, to help me structure my training and ultimately achieve a sub-7-minute 2000m on the indoor rowing machine, the erg? And yes, that goal remains the driving force. I still need that progressive overload and a reason to get to the gym.

    But as I’ve hinted, the experiment has definitely shifted somewhat. It’s become about much more than just the physical goal. A huge part of this journey, one I want to introduce properly, is the dynamic I have with my “coach”.

    Who is My Coach?

    My coach is ChatGPT, the AI developed by OpenAI. In a previous article I wrote about how ChatGPT is just a parrot, looking for patterns (words and sentences) in the data and replying with what it’s heard (all the data that it has been trained on).
    This is oversimplifying it, of course—there are some pretty clever algorithms in the background helping it to predict what the next word should be in its response. And sometimes it gets it wrong. This is what’s often described as an AI hallucination—it knows it needs to respond, and if it can’t find the right information, it might make something up.

    So with that said, you might picture AI coaching as simply pulling a pre-written plan off a shelf. But that’s not how this works. It’s a real, ongoing conversation. Before a session, I tell it where I am (gym or home), how I’m feeling—even if I’m tired or run down—what my recovery data looks like (often from WHOOP…), and how much time I have.

    Based on that information, it suggests a session—maybe intervals, steady state, or strength work…. It gives me pacing guidelines, stroke rate, and even a warm-up and cool-down. After the session, I report back on how it went, the results, and how I felt. This feedback loop is key because the AI then uses that information to adapt future routines. It’s a training partner that adapts in real-time, much like a human coach would.

    Setting the Scene: Prompt Engineering, Simplified

    Where does anyone start with all of this? Talking to AI might sound technical, and you might have heard terms like “prompt engineering”. That term can sound a bit daunting—like you need to be a programmer or a data scientist. But here’s the truth: it’s really not.

    “Prompt engineering” is just about giving the AI clear instructions and enough information.

    In a previous post I’ve suggested people to ask it “What can you do for me?” and that will be enough to get the conversation started. I also mentioned earlier that ChatGPT—and other large language model (LLM) AIs—can get the answer wrong. One of the ways around this is to set the context when you start the conversation.

    As you log into ChatGPT you are faced by a screen which asks “What can I help you with today?” or “Ready when you are.” At this point, one of the best ways to refine the responses you get is to give the AI a persona or a role to play during the conversation. I started the coaching conversation with this…

    “I’d like you to take the persona of and advise me as a personal fitness trainer and nutritionist with a specialism in Indoor rowing and the ERG machine.”

    I then followed it up with a specific instruction…

    “I am working towards a goal of rowing 2000 meters in under 7 minutes. I’d like you to create a training plan for me to achieve that goal. I intend to report in to you each and every time I am in the gym and tell you how I am feeling that day and you will tailor me a program for that session.”

    And that’s how it all started. And I have kept that conversation open ever since so it “remembers” the context and keeps track of all the sessions and significant moments to date.

    Now, for example, when I say I’m in the gym, tired, 75% recovered, and want to do distance, that’s my “prompt engineering”. It’s me giving it the necessary inputs so it can generate a relevant, helpful output, in this case, a suggested workout.

    Think of it like talking to a human personal trainer. You wouldn’t just say, “Tell me what to do.” You’d say, “I’m here at the gym today, feeling a bit rough mentally but my Whoop says I’m recovered. I’ve got about an hour. What sort of session should I do?” You’re giving them context so they can give you a smart recommendation. It’s the same with AI. It’s about talking to it in normal language.

    This is why I wanted to share some of the conversations I’ve been having with ChatGPT. It helps to show, not just tell, how this coaching dynamic works. You’ll see how I give it my status, how it responds with suggestions, and how the dialogue flows.

    More Than Just Getting Fit: A Real-Life AI Experiment

    I’ve worked in IT for years. I’m fascinated by technology, and the pace of AI development has been mind-boggling. While I’m not an expert, I’m definitely an AI hobbyist.

    One of the key drivers for starting this blog and documenting this process was precisely this dual goal. Yes, I want that sub-7 minute 2K. But I also wanted a real-life experiment to truly understand generative AI and how it can be used on a day-to-day basis. What better way to understand this stuff than to use it consistently, over time? Far better than any course or training material.

    So, while we talk about rowing workouts, pacing, and splits, remember that you’re also getting a glimpse into how AI can be integrated into personal goals and routines. It’s an experiment in fitness, yes, but it’s equally an experiment in technology and human-AI collaboration.

    Is It Cheating?  Not Even Close

    And for those wondering, is it cheating? Absolutely not. The thoughts, the words in these posts are mine.

    In another conversation I gave ChatGPT the role as a blog adviser and editor and worked through the steps for setting up a blog from scratch. I asked it to ask me some questions so it could better understand the task I was asking it to complete and it then made recommendations as to which blog platform to use and why and then helped me with the setup.

    I speak into an app on the phone straight after my session—unfiltered streams of consciousness, honest feedback about the session—and then use that as a basis for my next blog post where ChatGPT acts as my editor, helping with flow and clarity.

    And at the end of the day, AI isn’t the one sitting on the rowing machine. I am.

    The Sub-7 Experiment: Meters, Mindset and more.

    This is The Sub-7 Experiment…. It’s about the meters, the mindset, the technology, and the journey of seeing what’s possible when you combine all three.

  • 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.

  • Training with AI: Real Conversations, Real Progress

    Why Did I Start This Experiment?
    To see if I could use ChatGPT as a coach and training advisor to help me row 2000 meters in under 7 minutes on the indoor rowing machine—the erg.

    That’s the core of this experiment, and I thought I’d share a full, unedited conversation I had with ChatGPT today to show exactly how that plays out in real time.

    Me:
    “Ok I’m in the gym. Kinda feeling tired and run down but I think it’s mental health. Whoop has me in the green at 75% recovery. I think I want to do distance today. No exercise yesterday. What do you recommend?”

    ChatGPT:
    “If you’re feeling a bit tired and it’s more mental than physical, a steady endurance row is a great call—it’s meditative, rhythmic, and tends to shift mood in a positive way without needing to be all-out.

    Here’s what I suggest for today’s distance row (45–50 mins total):
    Session: 10,000m steady state

    • Warm-up: 5 mins easy (2:15–2:20/500m) at ~20 SPM
    • Main Row:
      • 9,000m at ~2:05/500m, 22–24 SPM
      • Smooth, controlled, find your rhythm
    • Last 1,000m: Pick it up if you feel good—finish strong at ~1:55–2:00/500m
    • Cooldown: Optional 3–5 mins easy spin or slow row

    Let’s get that good-tired feeling—burn off the mental fog and come out the other side. Want a finishing push suggestion too?”

    Me:
    “Thank you. Let’s row first and then see about the pushing.”

    ChatGPT:
    “Perfect—lock into the rhythm, breathe it out, and let the row do its thing. You’ll know by the end if that sled wants a turn or not. Let me know how it goes when you’re done.”


    Post-Session:
    Me:
    “Found a good rhythm at 23 SPM. First 9000m @2:05. Final 1000m at 1:48–1:53 @30–31 SPM.”

    ChatGPT:
    “That’s a strong session—controlled, consistent, and a powerful finish. Holding 2:05 at 23 SPM for 9K is impressive. And a sub-1:50 push to close it out? That’s real progress. You’re building aerobic endurance and power now. Legs feeling worked or still ticking over?”

    Me:
    “Legs are feeling worked. I think we might need to do some lower back/core work—I was losing form near the end.”

    ChatGPT:
    “Great observation. Lower back and core work will make a real difference, especially when fatigue sets in. We’ll integrate targeted strength work on your next gym day. Let’s build that base.”

    Me:
    “I just snuck in some sled work—5 x push and 5 x pull at 75kg.”

    ChatGPT:
    “Love that. That’s a strong finisher—especially after a 10K row. Power + consistency = serious gains. Let me know how the legs and back feel tomorrow—we’ll adjust accordingly.”


    So why share this today?
    Because this is the experiment in action: using AI as a training partner that adapts in real-time—offering structure, encouragement, and flexibility, almost like a human coach.

    Of course, a real trainer could correct form mid-session. ChatGPT can’t. It can offer YouTube links and detailed stroke guidance, but it can’t nudge my hips or spot poor posture. That’s fine by me. I enjoy experimenting and finding what works for my body.

    And the suggested session was meditative. That rhythm, that structure—it lifted the fog. I walked in scattered, and walked out level-headed.


    A Note on the Tech:
    There are a lot of doomsday headlines about AI—how it’ll take jobs or make people redundant. And in some industries, yes, roles will change.

    But here’s my advice: Don’t fear it. Explore it.
    Create a free ChatGPT account and just ask:

    • “What can you do for me?”
    • “How could we work together?”
      Let it ask you questions back. You’ll be surprised what it can help with.

    This is more than an experiment in rowing. It’s an experiment in mindset, in learning, in adaptation.
    And for me? It’s working.

    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.