How hard can it be?
It was the 9th of May, 2023, and I had just conquered the McLaren Vale Half Marathon. My ego, now the size of a small planet, needed a new challenge to feed its insatiable hunger. Lucky for me, the Concept2 gods just dropped a bombshell: the ultimate rowing showdown — a half or full marathon on the rowing machine. Challenge accepted.
Being the cocky overachiever I am, I went around boasting I’d conquer the full marathon. However in a rare moment of humility, I decided to test the waters with a half marathon first — 21,097 metres of pure, unadulterated rowing madness.
A masterclass in how not to fuel
You’d think that after nearly 30 years as a personal trainer, I’d have this whole fuelling thing figured out. Apparently, experience has its limits.
My grand nutritional strategy for the day consisted of overnight oats, lasagna, a few coffees and about half a litre of water. A flawless plan, provided I was preparing for an afternoon nap.
Instead, I was about to row 21.1 kilometres, pull through 2,217 strokes, and burn somewhere around 1,000 calories. In other words, I’d brought a sandwich to a bushfire.
The rowing began, and it was not fun
I started strong, maintaining a steady 1:52 pace per 500 metres. But as dehydration set in, I was forced to run to my studio’s hydration station for salvation.
This is because proper hydration is critical for maintaining blood flow, regulating body temperature, as well as providing the muscles with the nutrients and oxygen they need so they can perform at their best.
I needed those water breaks but it came at a price: the forced break brought my average on the 500m down to 1:59. Terrible, I know.
But the real battle began with my bony butt. My mid-forties white male’s deflated bunions are simply not built for a rower seat. (Nor are they built to hold up a pair of jeans, but that is another story altogether.)
My gladiator buttocks, better known as the Gluteus Maximus, cramped and rebelled, demanding rest.
With 5 km to go, the cramps intensified, and I was forced to take strategic breaks every 200 metres to appease my rebelling rear end.
Summoning the courage of a thousand rowers, I performed hops and squats to resuscitate my aching muscles, then tackled the final stretch like a rowing warrior.
In the end, I emerged victorious: 1 hour, 28 minutes and 25 seconds.
An average pace of 2:05 per 500 metres, across 21,097 metres.
So, how hard is it really?
So, dear reader, you may ask, “How hard is it to row a half marathon?”
So, to all you adventurous souls who dare to embark on this side-splitting, buttock-clenching rowing expedition I say: buckle up, buttercup! Because you are in for a ride.
It’s a wild ride, but one you’ll never forget. Prepare for a journey like no other! Fuel up, hydrate, and brace yourself for the pain, the sweat, and the unforgettable adventure that awaits you.
- rowing
- challenge
- endurance
