5 Lessons THE ROW Has Taught Me After Two-Thirds of Completion

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to take the time to fire up the laptop, open up the word processer, and share my thoughts in blog format. It feels like a rather manic few months in truth that, well let’s face it, when I’ve had time, I haven’t prioritised writing over other pursuits. Why? That’s a good question. It seems that there maybe a few reasons. Primarily, time of year, time of challenge, and… well, ‘life kaiser. Life’, to borrow a quote from the late Sven Goran Eriksson.

There’s no doubt that the dark winter months embed their bleakness in you in the twilight lit months towards the end of the calendar year. I can’t help but feel that I’ve felt the effects of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) more than I have in previous years. Kind of done with it to be honest. I can appreciate the cold. I can tolerate the rain. It’s the sunlight, man. When the receding days of precious rays are dominated by the cold, vacuous, unilluminated evening and night. I suppose when having an active one-year-old and a day job is thrown in to the mix, there is a sense of ‘deep slog’, as I like to refer to it.

In regards to the challenge itself, the length of it alone means that there were clearly times of peak and trough that I will, and have so far, navigated. With the combination of variables already stated, I fell behind schedule a tad over Christmas, and have felt the daunting nature of a self-imposed pressure of catching up. Deep slog indeed. So, quite clearly, the pretentious ramblings of a man reaching middle-age, dropped down the pecking order of priorities and things to do in that period, particularly when you’re dog is barking at you for a walk, your work emails and Slack are relentless in notifications, and your child’s nappy is full of shite.

I promise, this isn’t all doom and gloom though, dear reader! No, more a half-arsed excuse laden introduction. I’ve made good progress on the row itself, if not this blog. I had originally intended to write this entry after reaching the completion of 50% of the distance total. That was some time ago now. I am now publishing it in the framing of two-thirds of the challenge behind me. Nonetheless, I thought the same lessons I’ve learnt so far that I wanted to write about then, are still applicable now. With that being said, here are those lessons – some new, some reminders. Always conscious.

Lesson 1 – It’s a rollercoaster

Perhaps this is the most obvious lesson and one that can be drawn from the conception of the challenge on paper, before a single stroke had been rowed. That being said, it doesn’t mean that it still isn’t true and will be lived as I undertake said challenge. It truly is a rollercoaster, as partially covered in the introduction to this blog. Perhaps the sheer scale and length of THE ROW makes that inevitable. The highs and lows. There’s been plenty of both so far, and yet to come. The high moments have been pure joy. There’s no doubt that those moments will stay with me during the challenge and beyond it’s completion. It’s also not the obvious moments that have been joyous. No doubt that seeing donations come in, spending meaningful time at events promoting THE ROW, or when people ask me how it’s going provide that sense of delight. However, it’s also the times that I complete a row of no specific number that would otherwise be lost in the vast quantity of them, when I feel like ‘that was a good row. I felt strong and have energy’, that I feel buoyant. The moments of forcing myself up to row. The times spent on the river, with a crew all contributing, in the beautiful Cambridge city surroundings, and the sun daring to peak out over a cloud on a cold autumnal day. That is enjoyment.

With not wanting to dwell on the harder times, they are just as important. They are a reminder of why I’ve designed the challenge in this way; to test myself and drive discipline. They are required to further enhance the moments of joy, too. The other side of the coin. A balance to provide the emotional structure of our existence and being the two polarised ends of the spectrum, where really, a lot of the big wins are staying in the middle and seeking contentment. A rollercoaster but also a navigation of the human condition. A little deep for a blog about rowing but sometimes you don’t know what’s going to come out when you sit down at the keyboard. A metaphor for life, and, well, this challenge and sitting on a rowing machine is my life for at least another five months.

Lesson 2 – It’s all about the people

I’ve well documented this point over the last thirteen months in various places; this blog, interviews, Instagram, and in person. It’s the most surprising aspect of the challenge so far. Quite frankly, the response to what I’m doing and the support has been nothing short of extraordinary. I can’t understate how touched I am by how everyone has got behind me in what I’m doing. It really is incredible to pull on that support when feeling a bit gassed on the machine or indeed, procrastinating when getting on it in the first place. That’s the accountability I was talking about. It’s also more than that tough – that’s more of a positive symptom (if there is such a thing), with the real power being the messages, donations, support rows, and general infectious positivity.

It’s highlighted the space I was in before I started the challenge. I reflect back and it’s sad that I didn’t think people would play such an important part in this whole endeavour. I now know that that’s how depression works and can manifest itself. It’s isolating. It’s lonely. It makes you think that the world is against you and no one is there for you. I still struggle with the that now when things in life seem on top of me or when life throws up things to test you, but I now know that I have people to help me and talk things through with. That’s a stark contrast to the end of 2023, when I truly felt alone. The beauty of opening up is how my loved ones have been my biggest fans, as well as reigniting friendships from throughout my life, and creating new ones in this process. Long may that continue.

Lesson 3 – I’m not getting quicker – welcome to the plateau

It seems I haven’t actually said much on the actual rowing of the challenge so far – an important part of this whole damn thing, one could argue. It’s pretty relentless! With dedicating so much time to putting in the kilometres on a Concept 2 for the best part of just over a year, it isn’t surprising that my attitude to rowing, my fitness, and my knowledge of rowing has completely changed in that period of time. There was no doubt that my fitness would improve. It has. That has made me feel, well, pretty great from a health perspective, and a much needed function in my life, particularly as I now run after a one-year-old boy with seemingly unlimited energy. I can pretty easily knock out a 5km now, with just a sweat on. Contrast that to the start of the challenge when a session would feel like I’d bought a return ticket on the struggle-bus and the devil himself had ripped out my arsehole as an added extra for the pleasure. You’d hope the improvement would be the case considering I’ve now practiced the distance 335 times (with a good chunk of that being doubles too!).

Perhaps the biggest change has been my attitude to each session. My technique has improved enormously to the point of maybe actually looking like I know what I’m doing now. Thanks to Cambridge ’99 Rowing Club for that! No, it’s more how I approach a session and what I want to get out of it. At the start of this whole charade, I naively thought, ‘yeah, no problem, I expect after a year or so, I can knock out a 5km in around 17 mins and look like I’m phoning it in at the same time’. I can confirm that this was wrong. And arrogant. Very much arrogant. Looking back, that was a misaligned angle to this. If I wanted to be quick at rowing a distance, perhaps I should have aligned the challenge to do just that, not create one for such a long distance and period of time to complete. It’s an endurance challenge after all! So, with that epiphany, I’m all about putting the time in, getting the session done, and ticking it off. With that, my times haven’t improved for quite some time. But that’s ok. There’s a plateau in that respect, but I’m finding it welcoming and with comfort. That’s the real quiz here.

Lesson 4 – Life is life, nah nah nah nah nah

With the context of the last lesson, the struggle is more in when I fit the sessions in to my day. On paper, the time to set up, row, put the machine away, all-in is around half an hour. Seemingly not that much time in the ambition of fitting it into a day. Well, in practice, I’m finding it a very different test. Throw in my day job, being a husband, and, most demanding of all, trying my best at being a dad, it isn’t as simple as that. The other undercurrent in this, is the very nature of being a human, where procrastination is king. Despite enjoying the rows, knowing it’s good for me, it’s part of this bigger important fundraising effort, accountability in donations from other people, and, what I find most important, it helps my mental clarity, I still often put it off. When you don’t carve out a specific time window or get it out the way early in your day (eat the frog, anyone?), more often than not, mental hurdles appear and you begin to try and reason with yourself to put it off for the next day or simply not do it at all. It astounds me that this is the case; how you can be conscious of this happening, not want that to be the case, but nature kicks in and our homo sapien sensibilities arise regardless. Seek comfort. This is what I mean by accountability. Previously to the challenge, when this scenario occurred, I would simply not do that work out. It’s why I have never achieved long term results. Build the habit, the routine will come. It’s about showing up, not perfection. Discipline over motivation. I won’t have conquered that by the challenge completion but I’ll have a hell of a lot more understanding of it and hope I continue some of the positive behaviours in regards to exercise.

Lesson 5 – My wife is the best

I’m a very lucky man. I knew that already but it’s no doubt calcified in my mind over the last-thirteen-and-a-half-months. THE ROW on the surface of things may look like an individual effort but it is anything but that. My wife is also a key part of this challenge. For a lot of better-halves, it’s a huge ask to support someone with a challenge of this length, particularly when the vast majority of the sessions happen in our house. Throw in the fact that I presented this to her with the tone of ‘I’m doing this’, and at the time our child being only six weeks old, it is somewhat of an inherited endeavour. For those of you that know Flick, you’d know how supportive she has been then, throughout , and still is, with all of this. However, that’s not to say that it’s difficult, and I’m conscious of that. Having to fit rowing sessions on the daily around life hasn’t been easy. There have been many days where the dog hasn’t been walked, a chore pushed to the next day, or general frustration from myself, all so that I can prioritise getting on the rowing machine. She has the patience of a communion of saints, not just one. She has been my biggest supporter and cheerleader. Without her, THE ROW would not be what it is. I’m thankful that she knows that I’m a better person for doing it. I need to do it so that I’m balanced and in a better place in the other parts of my life – primarily being the best husband and dad I can be. Thank you Flick. I love you.

Being at the point of THE ROW with hundreds of sessions behind me has led me to a good place. It’s been so much more than just exercise to raise some money. I purposely wanted that to be the case but it’s delivered a rich experience that I’m grateful for, and then some. Above are just five lessons I’ve learnt out of many that I wanted to share. I intentionally wanted to mention teachings that weren’t too deep and even attempt to add a dash of humour (yes, I am aware I need to work on that). As you can imagine, I’ve many more lessons on more deeper sentiment and around grief. I’m still getting to the bottom of all of that but perhaps I may keep those to myself or explore in a separate blog.

For now, I will continue to tick each rowing session off, day-by-day. I’ll still be introspective when I can as it’s helping my mental health but it’s important to state that so is looking at the brighter side of things. It’s a good practice all round to take in the positives I’m grateful for daily. I wholeheartedly recommend you trying that for yourselves. Positivity is important and I strive to keep that notion – even in difficult periods. If I may return to the late Sven Goran Eriksson, for he himself in the aforementioned tale, once surprised a player one morning with a bottle of champagne and two glasses unexpectedly on a training camp. When the player asked what they were toasted, he simply replied, ‘life kaiser. Life’. For he knew then, what I’m starting to learn now. Life is worth living even when it feels like all the shit in the world is being thrown at you. Through hard work, you can love and enjoy yourself again – even if your humour still needs to be worked on.