The Day I Thought I Died

Like most athletes, I enjoy working out. I like to push myself to the limit. I have found the fun in weight-lifting and I enjoy a good 7 mile run. Despite all this, I have come to discover that there is one thing that I absolutely hate. 

Pull ups. 

I hate pull ups with a fire in my being. I have wimpy flabby arms and to be able to pull the solid mass that exists beneath my flabby stubs all the way up from a full extension to my head being up over the bar. I hate pull ups, not because they hard (which for me they are) but because I suck at them. 

My brothers used to have pull up competitions, to see who could do the most pull ups, to see who could do the most with one arm, to see who could do the most with their legs out at 90 degrees. They would have all these competitions while I'm over here trying desperately to get my elbows at 90 degrees (and failing). 

When we train, I use the wimpy band for my pull ups. I figure doing a few with a band is better than doing none at all. The last time I actually tried to do a regular pull up was in August. So it's been a while, and I have gotten a lot stronger. I wanted to try again. I wanted to see my progression with my new found strength. 

In our family room, we have a pull up bar that leads into the hallway next to our bedrooms. It sits on a ledge and is easily movable. 

That is the place where my near-death experience occurred.

I step up to the entry way and put my hands on the bar. I could already feel the strength in my arms, and I wanted to show my brothers that I could finally do a pull up. 

I start to pull myself already noticing the difference. I'm going further than I ever have before. And then it happens. Something shifted and I felt my body go weightless. But only for a moment.

The next thing I knew, my body was going down. My momentum was going backwards and my back slammed into the floor. I thought I was dead. 

I knew I wasn't dead because the next thing I saw was my younger brother laughing until he peed himself.

It knocked the wind out of me. And I thought I was dead. 

I stood up. I made sure all of my body parts were still attached and I shamefully left the room. 

That was the day I thought I died. 

And I still hate pull ups.