Ten Counts on the Timber Rung

I stepped beneath the dining chair and reached up for the low cross-rung. My gloved fingers wrapped firmly around the smooth, rounded timber. Letting my center drop, my bare feet lifted clear of the floorboards until I hung fully suspended. I pulled my chest upward in one continuous motion until my chin cleared the bar, holding the top position through three long exhales. The chair frame held rigid without a tremor. Ten slow repetitions followed, each one identical in rhythm and form. When I dropped down, my soles met the timber floorboards soundlessly.