Category Archives: Sports

April brings promise

April finally arrived after a six-month winter slog – I can finally go out without wearing the entire contents of my wardrobe. Morale is up.

My preparations for my row across the Atlantic Ocean in the World’s Toughest Row is well under way.

Physically, I’m more or less back to normal with six training sessions a week. This comes after a few months of injuries and illness (nothing serious, but it still stopped training). I feel quite good – not injury free, but good. I have tennis elbow and this means I can’t do weight training. Well, I can but with caution (probably won’t).

With the weather showing signs of summer, I even managed to get rowing on the water – felt very good. It’s always so nice to be on water. So all good on that front.

As my prep goes on, I am realising why ocean rowers say that getting to the start line is the hardest part.

I am now trying to get all the paperwork done to get the boat I have ordered into the country – it’d be difficult in English, but in German it is pretty tough going. You might think that the Swiss are not very helpful, but they are. Really.

Despite that, getting everything done is like trying to get a baby shark to wear her bib and eat her breakie – difficult, but doable with some patience, a wetsuit and my super cool diving knife (not to harm her, of course, just to wave it around a little).

I’m also planning a trip to the UK to collect my boat, plus a trip to the south of France for sea training – very fun indeed.

Before that, I’ll be speaking to the nice people at Rannoch Adventures to get my boat sorted. More fun. The current biggest problem is to get a number plate for the trailer that carries the boat – it’s actually more complicated than it should be.

Cross Rower is taking on the World’s Toughest Row as a solo in December 2025. The 3,000-mile (4,800km) from La Gomera in Spain to Antigua will see him face adverse weather conditions, loneliness and sore muscles. So far, 44 teams have registered for the race (including nine other fantastic solos). If you want to support Steve, please click here. Every little helps.

Battling injuries and insecurities

This is so frustrating.

Managing to get in a full training schedule is proving hard as I continue battling minor chronic injuries in my right arm, left leg, and lower back.

After the flu and a silly ailment that stopped me from training in the first weeks of the year, I now have to deal with a shoulder pain, niggling elbow and lower back tension.

I can train, and I am training, and quite hard. My most recent indoor row was my record since when I started, meaning I am in good physical shape. I just feel I can do far better. It can be quite tough on the body though.

Now, I’m doing nine trainings a week – three days with one session and another three with two sessions, plus a day off. The increased tempo might explain the injuries, but I really need to step up as it’s now less than 650 days to go. There is no going back.

I’m also somewhat concerned about my capabilities when it comes to the crossing. I have the knowledge, but my confidence is at a bit of a low. It comes in waves – one week I feel great and confident, then next two are low and insecure.

The next few months are going to be crazy with getting the boat and all the red tape around it, doing ‘live’ training sessions in the Med, and getting all the race paperwork done correctly and on time. All this come while managing a (currently) challenging job and also undertaking my family duties.

It’s all so terrifyingly scary and exhilarating at the same time. Can’t wait for the pieces to start falling into place to be honest.

What’s this all about?

In December 2025, I am participating in the World’s Toughest Row as a solo rower. The endurance race will see around 40 teams compete to cross the 3,000 miles from La Gomera (Spain) to Antigua. This is an unsupported row, meaning I will be all alone during the crossing.

A land team back home and the organisers (Atlantic Campaigns) will provide the important backup needed to complete the row.

Tough start to the year

So January has been a tough month to deal with, at least in terms of physical fitness.

I ended the year getting sick twice, which never happened before. This interfered with my schedule. I couldn’t afford to fall back further.

Starting 2024 meant stepping up to nine trainings a week, which included three days a week with two training sessions. In 2023, it was once a day, six days a week.

Thus far, I have only managed two daily trainings once. One week into the year, I developed a physical condition that has really taken a toll on training. This condition has knock on effects, meaning with January at its end, I have done relatively little.

It’s very frustrating as I’m desperate to really start pushing. With less than 700 days left, there isn’t too much time left to get in shape. It may seem like a lot, but there is a ton to do apart from training.

I know it’ll get better, but I’m not really known for my patience. Rant over.

Lots to do

When I decided to go on the World’s Toughest Row solo row across the Atlantic Ocean in October 2022, there was a ton of time to do things. The other day I realised that the row is actually next year.

Admittedly, it’s in December 2025, which means a tad less than two years. It may seem like a lot, but when you consider what I have to do, it’s not.

Doing it virtually alone (bar a friend and my wife) means that a great deal of the work falls on my shoulder. Add in the language barrier here in Switzerland and everything becomes more complicated.

There is also the matter of training, which, happily, is back on course. I wasn’t injured or anything – just has no electricity in the basement where my home gym is. That meant no HIIT nor weights training.

It did mean a lot of time on my rowing machine, so much so that my had calluses feel like I have little pebbles permanently attached to my hands.

On a very positive note, I think I’ve cracked the navigation thing and now have set a 100 nautical mile corridor that I will (should) stay in for my crossing. That’s around 200km – it may seem like a lot, and it is. Keep in mind that the weather and sea currents play an important part in all this and will more or less determine where I go. Having such a corridor allows me a great deal of flexibility.

The important thing is I know how to get to the other side.

My most pressing job now is to get the boat. There is a ton of paperwork required to get it in, and with the help from a Swiss rowing mate and my wife working the phones, I hope to manage to get her here without huge headaches.

Finding a name is also proving hard – not for lack of choice but because I have too many ideas. Will figure it out, but here as some options I’m considering:

  • Wingster
  • Wings
  • Sea Fox
  • Emma
  • Sophie
  • Wanderer (or Wanderoar)

I’ll figure it out. Feel free to send suggestions.

Training: Ramp up phase coming to an end

In December 2025, I will be rowing the Atlantic Ocean as a solo in the World’s Toughest Row.

I started training for the row in October 2022, getting back onto my indoor rower in what was a somewhat haphazard pattern that was aimed at getting my muscles, hands, bum and everything else used to rowing again.

It was around the same time that I also started training for a marathon in Zürich, a long time wish I had. This meant dividing my time between rowing an running, with running taking the lino’s share of my training time.

With the marathon done and dusted towards the end of April, my focus sharpened and rowing – mainly indoors – became my priority.

The period between October 2022 and December 2023 was designated as my ramp up phase, where I get back into shape. My litmus test for this was being able to do 45 minutes on the rowing machine without any big effort.

To do this, 45 minutes on the erg also became my minimum time. In comparison, when I did my 2021 row, 30 minutes was my minimum time.

I also wanted to do so in a decent time for a 53-year-old. In my books, that’s 2 mins 30 secs or less per 500 metres on a regular (rather than just once or twice). To put this in perspective, my earlier times were more like 2 mins 50 seconds per 500 metres.

This has been achieved with a month to spare, so now the ramp up time can successfully come to an end.

The next stages begin in January. Here the focus will be on technique, muscle building, and endurance.

Injuries
Inevitably, injuries are starting to creep back in. My right leg hamstring has been an issue for years, and still is. I feel pain, but can continue working out normally. It’s uncomfortable, but I can handle it.

I also have a left side lower back pain that seems to come and go. That is more concerning as it makes training quite hard.

The worst is my right shoulder. I hurt it in a biking accident seven years ago and it is now flaring up again. I believe it’s because of my increased weight training and more intense rowing. The pain is extending down the arm to the elbow and the other way to my neck.

In the end stages of the ramp up training period, I started training two times a day on certain days. This has also exacerbated the injury. The issue us that the intensity is now increasing.

I’ve taken a couple of days off training with the hope that everything calms down and I can kick off the next phase.

Routine on a rowing boat

In just under 800 days’ time, I’ll be rowing across the Atlantic Ocean solo in a 7.3m rowing boat. The race, organised by Atlantic Campaigns and known at the World’s Toughest Row, is expected to take me 55 days but could take as much as double.

Probably one of the most important elements is establishing – and sticking to – a routine on board. I am a creature of habit, so this is even more important.

Everything rotates around rowing. In non-solo crossings, most crews follow a two-hours rowing, two-hours off schedule. As a solo, you do whatever you want, based on your strengths and likes (or dislikes).

This is what my plan looks like.

12am to 2am: This is my last (or first, whichever way you look at it) row of the day. I’m not overly keen on rowing at night, but lower temperatures will make for a more comfortable ride. At the end of this row, I will take my longer rest.

2am to 6am: At the end of my row, I plan to have a hearty meal and then sleep (or rest) for four hours (more like 3.5 hours as I’ll need to prepare food and make sure the boat is fine). Sleep depends on how rough the sea is and any alerts – the AIS warning for ships that are close by, or the navigation aids warning me that I’m going too far off my set course.

Because of the latter, I may choose to deploy my sea anchor (like a parachute but underwater) to keep the boat stable and also avoid going backwards. Just a side note – being able to sleep for more than an hour would be really amazing, so fingers crossed for this.

6am to 8am: After getting up around 5.45am and checking the boat, it’s immediately back on the oars at 6am. I’m not really a breakfast person. Better get to work at once. This is also sunrise time when nature puts on a show for me.

8am to 9am: With four hours rowing under my belt, I now need to get ready for the day. This time is, foremostly, coffee time. I didn’t take coffee on my last row as I didn’t like the powder milk. It’ll be creamer this time. After coffee, I have to clean the solar panels, boil water for the whole day, check the boat, see exactly where I am and make sure I’m still heading in the right direction, and clean and clear the boat. Maybe an hour isn’t enough. Oh, and I also need to eat something.

9am to midday: This is the first of my three three-hour rows of the day.

Midday to 2pm: Lunch time. With the water already boiled, this won’t take long to prepare, and even less to eat. At this time every day, I’ll note my position and the miles travelled. My BGAN, a piece of equipment that gives me internet on the ocean, will be turned on so I can check what’s happening in the world and get in touch with my family and shore team to discuss the weather and routing. My sat phone will also be on, waiting for a call from the race organisers who check in regularly to see that participants are fine and provide help as needed.

2pm to 5pm: My second three-hour row. Later on in the row, this becomes the worst part as temperatures hit 40 Celsius and beyond – heat exhaustion was an issue last time. Solar panels also get another clean.

5pm to 7pm: Eat and rest.

7pm to 10pm: Another three-hour slog, with the benefit of enjoying the sunset.

10pm to midnight: Sleep.

There are other things to factor in – hull cleaning, bad weather, injuries, fatigue, repairs, and the dreaded storms, which means being locked in the cabin for hours on end. Can’t wait.

Watch my last rowing adventure across the Atlantic here.
If you are interested in supporting or sponsoring my row, you can contact me on steve@chetcuti.ch

Solo and unsupported, but not alone

The biggest misconception about rowing an ocean – solo or not – is that a boat with an engine (or sail) follows you around.

Rowers are thought to wake up bright and early, row for 12 hours and then get back on the support vessel for a nice warm shower, dinner, glass of wine, followed by a comfortable sleep in a normal bed before repeating everything the next day.

That’s not exactly what happens. It’s actually very far removed from reality.

In keeping with the spirit of the first ocean rowers, the row must be unsupported, meaning there is no support ship, and we cannot accept any assistance from outside, not even a cold can of beer.

From when I leave land on 12 December 2025 until I get to land – presumably around mid-February 2026 – I will be on my own. I will be rowing a minimum of 12 hours a day, up to 14 hours if possible.

The remaining time will be used to maintain the boat, contact race organizers and family plus my support team, taking footage, checking internet (yes, I’ll have internet this time), cleaning, cooking and sleeping in a small cabin.

I will be taking part in a race – the World’s Toughest Row – so I will be racing. It’ll be difficult to beat the teams of five or four, but I may be able to catch some duos and trios if I push hard enough and am lucky with the weather.

The race organizers have a sailing boat visiting rowing boats, but they won’t stay around for long for me to get on board to shower and have dinner and take a nap.

For most part, I will be rowing. Solo and unsupported maybe, but not alone in many ways.

Watch my last rowing adventure across the Atlantic here or see below.

If you are interested in supporting or sponsoring my row, you can contact me on maltarower@gmail.com  

This time I’m going solo

When I took on my Atlantic Ocean row in 2021, it was the biggest challenge I had ever done. Nothing else came remotely close.

Saying it was tough is an understatement. I had even sworn never to do anything like that again. I obviously lied, or maybe my memory of the extremely hard times I went through quickly left my mind and were replaced by the good parts.

You can see a 30-odd minute video of my trip here, from prep in the months before to the actual crossing.

After 2021, I struggled with post-row blues for quite some time. I can’t explain it, really, but something was amiss and I didn’t know what. I still don’t know what.

After giving it some thought, I decided to implement my original plan conceived back in 2019 – I’m going to row the Atlantic as a solo rower in December 2025. I’ll be taking part in Atlantic Campaign’s World’s Toughest Row (formerly TWAC),

My initial challenge to find sponsors failed miserably, so I’m going to have to figure out how to finance the row on my own.

Now, I’m working on getting a boat, a Rannoch R25, and doing the required courses to qualify for the race. This includes training sessions on open water (as opposed to lakes in Switzerland), so holidays for the next years are already planned. Not sure the kids will be overly happy, but who knows.

What I do know is that the countdown has started – I’m just under 900 days away.

Row diaries: Departure Day (and how to follow me)

As you read this, I am on my way to the airport to begin my journey to Portugal from where I will start my Atlantic rowing adventure.

I’ve been working on this for so long that I can barely remember what it was like without having this project in my head.

Today, I’ll meet my team for the first time. Over the next two months, we will be together every single moment, confirmed to a very small space, and working towards the same goal – rowing 6,000km across the Atlantic Ocean.

For two long years, I trained very hard. Now, all that I’ve learnt will be used to help me overcome this huge mental and physical challenge.

Here is how you can follow me:

  • Website www.crossrower.ch (or de.crossrower.ch in German) There will be regular visual and text updates on the site
  • Track me allows you to see where I am. You can find the tracker on the front page on my website. At the moment, it still has the track form the last row. Ours will be reset shortly
  • We’ll also have regular Facebook updates (usually a teaser that re-directs to my site)
  • Same for Instagram and to a lesser extent on Twitter, too

Donations can also be done from my website – there are three organizations: Hospice (Malta), the Swiss Cancer League, and Terre des hommes. I’m at around one-third of my goal. All the money sent goes to these organizations. The donations will help me, too, in terms of motivation to row faster.

Determination to succeed

My aim on the row is to follow in my brother’s footsteps. When he found out he had a brain tumor and that it was terminal, he said he would remain positive and fight it all the way. He did so. I hope I have his courage.

This entire adventure is dedicate to him for a good reason – he was a good altruistic person, a fighter with a heart of gold.

I will now face a big challenge, physically and mentally. It’s a big deal, but it is also one which I chose to do. Cancer patients and their families don’t have this choice.

That’s the whole point of this challenge – help the people who are doing their best to make things as comfortable as possible for cancer patients and their families. That’s what my brother would have done.

In two months and a bit, I’ll be back home. I can then return to my normal life. Many cancer patients and their families don’t have this option.

I am also collecting money for Terre des hommes. My chosen project is helping Syrian refugee children in Jordan. I chose to help this organization as I strongly believe children should have the right to enjoy their childhood. Any help you can give them is greatly appreciated.

Row diaries: Covid challenges with a week to go

I really can’t believe it, but there’s just one week to go before I leave home for my Atlantic row.

Two and a half years ago, I started this journey with a mixture of curiosity and determination. Nothing has changed. Well, nearly nothing.

I’ve trained hard, very hard, completing eight million metres on my indoor rower, around 400km of on-water rowing, hundreds of kilometres of running, countless HIIT exercises, and a few more kilometres of cycling. And weight training – my favourite (sic).

Now, I’m in the taper phase, so I’m not doing more than an hour a day, maybe two. It’s a lot, but far less than the average of three hours I was doing every day, six days a week throughout 2020.

My body now needs a small break so I can get on our boat Rose fully fit and ready to go.

Covid has keep me very busy over the past weeks.

First, I had to cancel plans to fly to Malta as I would have had to quarantine for 10 days on my return to Switzerland.

Plans to fly to Portugal were also changed because of pandemic restrictions. We looked for options all round – Seville, Barcelona, Madrid, Porto – but none offered the certainty of getting there on time.

Now, the team will meet up in the Netherlands on Friday 19 February (four out of five of us, the other is sailing in to Portimao – how cool is that!). We will then leave on Saturday evening on a 2,500km road trip through five countries to Portugal.

That’s a lot to do before a 6,000km row, but it’s also fun and a great opportunity to get to know the others.

Our week-long prep week in Portugal will also be impossible to complete because of the restrictions. This means that after prepping the boat, we’ll probably leave immediately, weather permitting.

This means that we can leave as early as Wednesday 24 February. It also depends on the weather.

Probably the worst impact of Covid is that family can’t come down to see us off, and probably neither to welcome us on the other side. It’s unfortunate, but we’ll manage anyway.

Organizing and preparing for a row across the Atlantic is complicated in itself – doing it in the middle of a pandemic is something else.
 

Ever little bit helps

So far, we’ve managed to collect just under €3,000 for my Swiss charities (Swiss Cancer League and Terre des hommes), and around €2,500 for Hospice Malta.

I’m extremely grateful for the contributions people have made. For all three organizations, I’m still miles away from my target, so please donate or share my website address (www.crossrower.ch or de.crossrower.ch in German) with people. Every single cent goes directly to the organizations.

You don’t need to donate huge amounts – smoke less for a few days and donate €10.