I don't remember trying to do a pull-up being so traumatic as much as confusing. The gym teacher really would say encouraging things, but she had such unrealistic expectations. She thought my arms had some sort of muscle between the skin and bone that could not only support the rest of my body up but raise it feet in the air, simply by bending at the elbow. She didn't realize that my arms only consisted of skin and bone, used to holding a pen or the 1st 2nd or 3rd positions used in ballet. They were only expected to perform such amazing feats once at year during the dreaded Presidential Fitness Test.
That was the day that I learned conspiracy theory exists. The idea that middle school children should be graded on their ability to do 4,000 sit-ups in 2 minutes, run a mile in a fraction of a second, or use only their hands to pull them off the floor and up higher than some arbitrary bar 60 feet high, was not only enforced by my gym teacher, but went all the way up to President Clinton himself. My recollection of the requirements may be exaggerated over the years, but only to enforce how much of an impossibility the task of a pull up was to my wiry 5th grade self. The only task that I remember fondly was the "sit and reach". I think they made this category for the kids like me, to make us feel like at least we could pass one thing. While sitting on the floor, they put a yard stick out, and measured how far you could reach. 7 years in ballet had given me enough flexibility to reach further than any kid in my class, but not to perform a single other task to the President's satisfaction.
Miracle of all miracles, my body followed. Then it even went so high as for me to see over the bar I was holding onto! What! Is something I considered an impossibility truly achievable after all these years? I held there for a second stunned, sure I must be dreaming and waiting to look down to see the ground disappear and a giant marshmallow emerge in its place. Nope, I was still holding myself there. I slowly lowered to the ground and tried it again, sure I couldn't do two. That must have been a fluke. But I did. Even though I was much taller and had much more weight than my 10 year-old self, my arm muscles have finally arrived at a ratio to compensate! At 28, I can finally achieve President Clinton's goal for a physically fit 10 year old!
Take that all the gym teachers of my past, or as I fondly remember them, my early archenemeses (yes I have later archenemies). I encourage all of you to go try that thing that just seemed too impossible, but remember not to push it. I did a few more pull ups and by the third one, felt that familiar feeling of really needing to pee while your arms start to fatigue and your chin reaches higher and higher. I should have stopped at 2.
