Brian’s fitness journal after a brain stroke
I woke up a few minutes early this morning, which already put me in a suspiciously good mood. Mondays usually require negotiation. Today did not. Today was pull-up day.
That meant I had a decision to make.
I’d originally set my goal at 20 pull-ups—a nice, round, respectable number. I hit that last week. So the question was simple:
Do I maintain… or do I get greedy?
Before my brain stroke, I used to follow a program called P90X. I had one of those doorway pull-up bars—the kind that makes you question both engineering and your doorframe. A year before my stroke, my wife upgraded me to a proper exercise bar. Then the stroke happened. The bar sat unused. Later, it was dismantled when we moved to Nashville.
For a long time, upper-body strength wasn’t even on the agenda.
First came walking—with a walker.
Then walking with my wife’s support.
Then a stick.
Then jogging.
And now… 10K runs.
A few years ago, I pulled the equipment back out and reassembled it. At first, pull-ups were brutal. Awkward. Humbling. But slowly—quietly—they came back.
Here’s the strange part:
I can now do more pull-ups than I could before my stroke.
That still surprises me.
So this morning, being appropriately greedy, I went for 21.
I completed the first 10 without dropping from the bar and immediately felt victorious enough to justify the decision. When you push just beyond what you think you can handle—not recklessly, but deliberately—your body often agrees to the negotiation.
The remaining 11 came in two bursts:
6 pull-ups, a few seconds of existential bargaining, then 5 more.
Done.
I’m still careful. I have to be. My kidneys mean I can’t overwork muscle tissue or recover like a typical athlete. Cardio and resistance training are good for me—but excess is not. Everything lives in the margins of balance.
Still, this kind of pushing works for me.
For now, I think I’ll keep increasing the count each week—at least until I can comfortably complete two clean sets of 10 with only a short break between them.
After that?
We’ll renegotiate again.
That’s how progress works—not in straight lines, but in small, stubborn decisions made on ordinary Monday mornings.