Rowing Five Kilometres

Christmas slothenlyness is becoming an annual tradition for me.  The autumn invigorates me into physical fitness, and I usually do a bang-up job of getting my body into shape.  And I swear to myself that I’ll be good over Christmas; no overconsumption, regular exercise, etc.

And for two years in a row now, I’ve trampled that promise to myself.

Last year I bought myself a rowing machine.  A sleek Concept2 Model B that came to me used from a local corporate gym.  It’s a no-nonsense machine, and the fact that it was used meant a considerably lower purchase cost, and slightly less guilt if I didn’t end up using it (at least it would look used).

I hate exercise activities that don’t stimulate my senses; ergo, my love of hiking, climbing, etc.  But the rowing machine seemed like a perfect all-in-one exercise, and I can usually find enough music on iTunes to amuse me for the half-hour I try to spend on it every night.

I really dreaded getting on it last night.  The slothenly habits I learned over my two holiday weeks were tempting me, and I almost gave in.  At 9:45 PM last night I mentally kicked myself in the ass, queued up Michael Jackson’s “Off The Wall” album on my iPod, and strapped myself in for a gruelling session.

Last autumn I learned how to properly use a heartrate monitor.  After a quick warm-up I brought my heart rate up to about 165 (near the high end of my target workout heart rate range) and rowed vigorously for exactly twenty-three minutes.

It was record time for me – 5000 metres in exactly 23:00.  And I know that twenty-three minutes isn’t exactly olympic performance, but it’s a hell of a step up for a guy who could barely squeek past 2000 metres last summer.

So yay for me!