Yesterday as I did my weekly run with my running partner at work, I mentioned my plan to do a pullup this summer.

“I hate pullups,” he said. To which I replied, “I hate not being able to do pullups.”

That’s a bit of an exaggeration, at least for me. It isn’t really hate that drives me. I just passionately want to be able to do pullups. I want to prove to myself that I can do them.

And, after giving myself excuse after excuse – oh, I don’t have a plan, oh I don’t have time, oh I’ll never be strong enough. I’m finally putting in some effort. I have a plan. I’m making the time. And the strength… it will come with hard work. And I hope to work hard enough to make it enough to be able to lift the weight of my body.

After the first week and a day of my pullup program, I’m feeling as sore in my upper body as starting to run felt for my lower body. Aches and strains and having to scale back the workout just to finish it. I’m going to accept that and keep pushing.

Even though I do kind of hate scaling back…

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