Being five weeks into the challenge, I felt comfortable in having established a routine to complete the daily rows. The body is feeling pretty good for it too, despite some muscle soreness in my legs, around the shoulder blades, and, well, to be frank, my arse. No real level of concern though – more a sign of progress and the work that’s been put in to date. Alongside the stretching routine prior to each session, the row itself has helped ease each muscle group for the rest of the day. I’m over the initial establishing period and the rows are now firmly something I do. Get it done. Tick the session off and forget about it till tomorrow.
Sunday’s row was no different. I don’t wake up as early on the weekends, as I do during the week. The couple of extra hours in bed are a little treat for myself. I can do this as I don’t have to be at work, which is an even bigger treat in itself. No doubt every reader of this knows that truth. Weekends are great. The row itself was much like any other session. I certainly got a sweat on and saw the metres clock up on the display, no doubt thinking about what to have for breakfast and having a coffee. It dawned on me that my morning rows are technically ‘fasted cardio’. Is that still a thing, fitness people? It certainly had its moment in the sun a few years back. Either way, my stomach grumbled over the last kilometre.
I dug in for the last 500m and when I saw the display get to the point of 100m left, I started my sprint finish. A rush of joy as I realise only a few more seconds of pain are left until I can dispatch the machine for 24 hours. Last 15 metres to go and I’m feeling strong! This really will help me win the day, I feel good! The seconds and metres expire at a decent rate to the point I’m on the last stroke and then disaster hit! The cable between the machines handle and its flywheel snapped, almost propelling me backwards off the end of the seat. Arse-over-tit stuff. Then it hit me. The expletives followed. Quite loudly in fact. My poor wife probably thought that I’d either accidently killed the dog or was going for the world record in how many times I can say ‘fuck’ in a minute, at the rate I was reeling off obscenities. No doubt Fred Durst sits comfortably at the top of that mountain despite my best efforts.
I eventually calmed down. My initial reaction of anger soon dissolved into frustration and worry. For whilst I may be jovial in describing this, in all seriousness, it hit me that this is not just a spanner in the works for the challenge, it was an almighty wrench not only in the guts, but in the planning, success, and momentum of THE ROW. A rowing challenge without a rowing machine is quite a sticking point. So, as I sat there with the row bar in my hands, a fabric ribbon frayed at one end hanging off it, my wife, child, and dog, trying to console me, I had to think about my options.
Considering the journey I’ve had to this point, I’ve not been able to react to unexpected bumps in the road that well. Even the smaller things have taken me down a path to low mood, spiralling thoughts, and frustration. This was no different, particularly in the context of this being a major blocker in something that’s designed to make me feel better in myself. Something that’s good for me. The smallest thing in the way of my progress is a tough pill to swallow. Whilst now writing this down it seems small fry, at the time experiencing it, it felt like the world was throwing something in my way to block that. To change the trajectory of my map to happiness or at least a place of contentment.
I’m not naïve enough to think that a challenge lasting a year and a half wouldn’t all be plain sailing, but I did think that my rowing machine would last longer than 6 weeks! That’s what made it unexpected. One thing I’ve learnt is that a lot of clichés are true in their purest form: ‘shit happens’, ‘there’s a lot in life you can’t control’, ‘it’s how you react to situations, not the situation itself’, etc. Whilst I’m not necessarily a big fan of stoicism (arguably a heartless bunch), I do see benefits in its teaching in certain situations. Ultimately, this is one. So, I did what I think most Stoics would do, and went straight on the eBay app to search for rowing machines. I’m sure Aurelius would have loved eBay. No? Yeah, maybe not.
I made this into a positive. It was a chance to get a better machine. Mine was originally purchased roughly five years ago. The main feature that swayed me in choosing it was that it folded up and I could store it under the stairs. In hindsight I wish I looked more at the other features, particularly the display views (my frustrations with this mentioned in previous blogs), and the fact that it did not simulate being on water in terms of the metre count (only counting metres on the pull of the oar, not any with momentum). With this considered there was only one option really, and those who are familiar with rowing machines at their gym will understand, I went on the hunt for a Concept 2. They are the bollocks and the machine of choice for actual, proper, rowers.
I was fortunate to have a little new year bonus at work (otherwise the challenge would have been in major jeopardy), but I was still not in a place to buy a Concept 2 brand new. Spenny. It had to be second hand to be affordable. I’m fine with that but it did mean I had to take care in analysing the listings as I commenced my search on eBay. Now it seems that all rowers are either in London or Yorkshire if the listings are anything to go by. London is understandable but surely not all other rowers in the country reside in the county of the white rose? Well, it turned out that there is a company just outside Bradford that specialises in refurbing them. Bradford is a long drive and, I’m sure you’ve already thought this yourselves reader and I’m in safe company, a bit of a shithole. I was not favouring that half of the coin. London? I love London but it’s a bit of a shit to drive through. I do not need that additional stress.
So, there I was, manically scrolling on my phone in hope, then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a listing caught my eye. A well-maintained Concept 2 with an auction ending that night. Its location? Newmarket. YES MATE. I-fucking-deal. No ‘Buy It Now’. Not ideal. I messaged straight away to see if I could offer a price for them to take it off auction and to secure it. We shared a few messages, naturally me explaining what I’m doing in the hope that it may help with my negotiations. Not wanting to play the charity card as such but more… well yes, that was exactly what I was doing. We eventually agreed a price. I exhaled in relief. Thank God for that. Sorted.
Flick, Zander, and I proceeded to have a nice afternoon visiting some friends, me regaling in the story of the day. Wonderful. But then I saw an eBay notification on my phone. A message. It was matey. As the auction was within 12 hours of finishing, he couldn’t delist it. I had to try my hand at bidding after all. Great. I hadn’t auctioned on eBay for quite some time. Rusty. Then I remembered that it was easy. I just had to figure out my max bid and monitor its closing. So that’s what I did. Entered my bid, set an alarm, and eventually saw the closing time counter hit zero. I’d won! And guess what… I got it cheaper than the original agreed price. What a result. I was delighted. In truth, I feel that I got it at extremely good value considering the price that other listings were going for. Sunday rejoices!
Payment done. Agreed time and place for pick up. I crucially was able to pick it up the next day, meaning the schedule of the challenge would not be affected. I drove to Newmarket during my lunch hour on the Monday, navigating its contrasting affluence of horse training fields and stables, with its high street of vape shops, kebab places, and affordable pubs, to a gated residence that the auctioneer lived in. A classic equine town in its juxtaposition. As I sat idling in my car outside the gate, a teenage lad came to my window asking if I was Tom. I am indeed! Great, he was too. He let me in. Turns out he was selling the rower on behalf of his dad. This was his residence. I had a brief chat to both, who took a keen interest in what happened to my old rowing machine. Naturally I hammed up the story – it was a good ice breaker. Sometimes collecting things purchased online from strangers can be a strange experience, but thankfully Tom and Neil proved to be the opposite.
So that was that. I picked up the goods, drove home, and was able to complete that day’s row that evening. A palaver but a least I got an upgrade on a machine and a good anecdote for a blog out of it. The new rower is great, and I was flying on it from the off with decent times. Tom and Neil confirmed their statuses of ‘Top Blokes’ that evening by donating to the challenge. A lovely touch. They’ve helped with the success of this challenge (even with completion pending) and are an important part of its story. Confirmation that I am not able to complete this on my own and the kindness of others helping will get me there. Back to the rower seat in the morning.
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