Yes, I see you. Dangling, swaying in front of me like a ripe carrot. So light and easy that a breeze can push you. So simple that kids grab hold and swing every day, casually mixing a kip into a skinned cat like flipping a coin.
You see me, too. You see me as that one – the one with the chalky hands, who always loses their wrist position when they try to transfer. The one who can pull their damn navel up to the bar…but can't haul their shoulders through.
False grip, hip drive, swing-your-torso-through… sounds as easy as a game of double dutch. I've learned, though, that muscle-ups are not a circus trick. You fooled me, and I practiced…and now, I know, it takes strength and guts and rips and reps.
Strength and guts are MY game. Grip, they tell me, is a choice. I've made mine.
I'm not going to let go. Don't make it easy for me.