Muscle-Up!

Today, for the first time in my life, I muscled-up on a bar. I not only performed the muscle-up, I FLEW over the bar. Today was a leg day, but Jordan was about doing an upper body, and as we were chatting during his chin-ups, I said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to get a muscle-up soon." The past few times I've done explosive pulls on the bar, I was getting up pretty high with consistency, so I was becoming more confident with my explosiveness even without a kip. And so I jumped up to the bar, kipped my hips, and saw myself flying over the bar. As soon as I was up, I turned around and gave Jordan the most shocked expression I think I've ever had. I hadn't expected it to be so easy. I was so used to struggling so hard to pull up high, flapping around, and being beaten by the bar.

Maybe the shock came because I hadn't tried even a muscle-up attempt in at least a month. No, I've spent the last long while doing pull-ups with as much power as possible, not even caring about the muscle-up. So when it came time to do it, it came easily, and I was just completely surprised... But really, I think the shock was how it felt. I, like many other frustrated strength enthusiasts here, have always felt like the bar is a barrier, some kind of impassable wall. Once you're under, you're under, and you can't get back over. Sure, you see other people swing over with ease and triumph, but that isn't you. You're too weak. Too slow. Too fat. Any number of things and reasons you can muster up as to why you CAN'T do it. So when I was moving over the bar, there wasn't a thought in my mind, except for one: "What the fuck?"

It felt like flying. I say I flew over the bar, because that's exactly the sensation I had. Moreso than any vault, any drop, any leap ever felt. I had absolute control, but I was floating upward at an alarming rate. The bar, the impassable barrier and a triumphant apostle of Gravity's decree, was descending below me quicker than I could process. And then I was at the top, staring down at the people in the gym, quite rightly feeling like I had climbed atop Mt. Olympus. I was Apollo watching the Greek common men from a lofty perch. And when I descended, there was glory, pride, all wrapped up in the knowledge that the bar was no longer impassable.