5,000 metres is not much in a car, fine on a bike, relatively comfortable for a run, a good walk, but seemingly for me at this stage of THE ROW, a strenuous and challenging row. Particularly for someone that has rarely been in the gym for the previous 12 months and, when I have, the squat rack has been my destination, not the rower. To be frank, as a starting point, it’s fucking difficult. There I said it.
It’s two-and-a-half times the Olympic rowing distance of 2,000 metres. Interestingly this distance was chosen by rounding down the 2,112 metres distance of the Henley Royal Regatta – the sports oldest, running since 1885. However, it’s short of the ‘Boat Race’ (6,800m), competed between Cambridge and Oxford universities annually between Putney and Mortlake on the River Thames. I’m no Olympian, nor am I intelligent enough to have been accepted by an Oxbridge university, but my rowing machine collecting dust under the stairs in my house located in the city of the lighter blue side of that coin, can provide me the challenge of those 5,000m as and when I need it. For the record, Cambridge University have been pulling a fast one for centuries by calling that colour ‘blue’. Not as intelligent as they seem, perhaps? You must be thick to think that can be described as such. Cambridge Blue my arse.
I won’t go in to the details of why I chose 5,000m as my session distance as that was well covered in last week’s blog, but I did think I could shed some light on how I’m currently experiencing each session at this stage of the challenge. Naturally as the challenge progresses, my fitness levels and tolerance of the distance will too. That’s why this is the first post of what will be a series of how the anatomy of a 5km row will differ after milestone distances rowed.
As it stands, the distance is a mind game. Me vs the machine. Or, more accurately, Me vs Me. The easiest and the worst match-up. At this stage of the challenge, it’s foolish for me to try and post PBs and going all out, bollocks-to-the-floor stuff. No, the way I win is in the completion. Focus on getting it done. With that being said, like walking on a run to make distance, if I need to ‘slow row’, I absolutely will. The following should give you an insight into how my brain tries to trick me in to giving up but with perseverance, I get there.
First of all, for a distance this long you will need a few things to make it bearable. Naturally a rowing machine, gym-wear, and trainers is a good start. It’s also a good idea to wear a cap if you’re as follically challenged as I am – as gross as it sounds, you will sweat, so it acts as a barrier for your forehead/eyes. But the real heroes are 1. headphones, and 2. a gel seat mat. I have to keep my mind occupied and hopefully not think of the row as much as I can. Podcasts are my saviour. With the headphones I can follow stories and conversations that can help my mind (try to) ignore the growing balance of lactic acid in my muscles and the complementary fire in my lungs. Due to my current weight and fitness level, sitting on a rowing machine for just under 30 minutes, doesn’t half give you a sore arse. The gel mat does a lot of heavy lifting here. Hopefully with improved fitness and some weight loss as a result of the volume of rows, the pressure on it will ease, but as it stands it’s invaluable. One for the New Year’s honours list, for me.
A 5 minute routine of stretches to open up the lower back, warm up the hamstrings and quads, and some awkward arm movements to ease the forearm muscles, is a non-negotiable. It also delays the row a little bit. The first mind game. If I’m particularly knotted or tense (I’m looking at you glutes), the appearance of a hockey ball may occur to work it all out. It is a little bastard. Painful stuff in the short term, but needed to complete the preparation of the body. I know as I get older it will only get worse!
0 - 500m
Once on the rower, the first stroke sets the tone. Every time you suddenly realise, ‘Hey, this is easy! I’m not sure what all the worry is about!’ A focus on technique and you seem to fly through the metres. Piss easy. A false sense of security sets in.
500 – 2,500m
The first hit of discomfort comes in roughly around the 500m mark. You think to yourself that you’re one-tenth into the row. That’s both reassuring and daunting in equal measure. There’s not much else to do but get your head down and get through the strokes. Try not to look at the distance on the display. That is not your friend at this stage. You need to build up your body of work here. Established technique and pace eats up the metres.
2,500 – 3,000m
Halfway! This is a big checkpoint. Everything is downhill from here. I try to visualise rowing downhill at this point. It’s easy again! This second wind is joyous. What’s the problem, again?!
3,000 - 3,750m
This is the window. The dreaded window. I’ve given it the moniker, ‘The Imp Window’. That downward slope has not only plateaued, but you are seemingly now rowing uphill and a little-horned devil creature is placing obstacles in your way that would be more at home in Mario Kart. This is the real mental struggle in the row in my opinion. I can only hope this window shrinks as time goes on. Do not give in. Tell the sprite to ‘get fucked’, and kick it in the river. Keep pushing.
3,750 – 4,750m
We’re back in the game. Technique and pace similar to the 500 - 2,500m stage. Eat up the meters. We get to under a kilometre left. That’s four-fifths of the row done. Bring it on. There’s more in the tank here. Where was this when I needed it earlier? I can probably push the pace here. Finish quicker! What a great idea!
4,750 – 4,900m
It was not a great idea. Pain. You’re so close to finishing but why not finish now? 250m doesn’t need to count. It’s nothing. A simple round down. Stop the pain. Keep pushing through.
4,900 – 4,950m
Less than 100m left! End is in sight! Push a bit harder!
4,950 – 5,000m
50m left. All out, get it done. Sprint finish. Watch it hit 5,000m on the display. Done. Thank God.
Once I stop, I suck in as much oxygen as I can. Take those deep breaths. Recover. As quick as I can, I take note of my time. After a minute or so, I naturally go straight to social media to post the session. We all know it doesn’t count if I don’t do so! Instagram, Strava, done. Get some water down your throat.
That’s my current anatomy of a 5km. I’m not sure at what point I will revisit the series but I hope this is an entertaining account of the daily battle with the rowing machine that forms part of my daily routine. My one tip mentally for anyone tempted to try a rowing machine for the first time is to think in units of 250m. You can break down your overall row progress in fractions and easily push through the current 250m unit. Then do the next one. Keep going till done. It’s all in the head. Keep proving to yourself that you can do it and then you have no reason not to. Back to the rower seat in the morning.
Tom.
Comments