Prison Workout Routine or Comedy Routine?

 It's Sunday afternoon, and after a lunch meal of hotdogs, beans, corn, and cake, it's time for a workout. It's upper back day, so my workout partner, Kevin, and I plan on doing pull-ups, upside down rows, and some core exercises. 

The weight pit and gym have been closed for months due to Covid-19, so our prison workout routines have consisted of callisthenic and body weight exercises. It's not bad, actually. I enjoy the routines. Push-ups, dips, pull-ups, squats, lunges, and quite a few very creative exercises have served quite well to keep me relatively in shape. 

After changing into our workout clothes, including gloves to protect against the cold, we head out to small yard. We walk a couple of laps to warm up, and then we head over to the pull-up bars. There are only two, and the bars are surrounded by a group of eight other guys. Fortunately, Kevin and I are both over six feet tall, and the other guys are only using the shorter of the two bars, so we start our pull-ups on the taller bar. 

On my first set, I make the mistake of facing the group of guys standing off to the side. It feels awkward, them staring at me while I grunt my way through my set. So, I make light of it when I get down.

"Hey guys!" I call out. "Rather than awkwardly watching me do my pull-ups, how about some motivational encouragement!"

"Oh, sorry," one guy responds good naturedly. "I did notice your form. It was pretty good. Inspirational." He picks up on my joke and humorously lobs one back at me, even if it is a stretched truth. 

Kevin and I make a lap between sets. It's too short of a break, but we head for another set. I'm already feeling sore from the last few days' workouts, but I push on. In the background, I hear the other group laughing and joking as they each take a turn on the bars. Occasionally, one of the men needs assistance, so another guy provides a spot for his pull-up. Basically, the second guy assists the first guy to take a little of the weight. It's how I had to start, too, when I first came to prison and couldn't do a single pull-up. 

I remember being embarrassed the first time I tried a pull-up. The guys doing them made it look so easy. I quickly discovered, then, just how out of shape I was in. Grateful to have those days behind me, I settle in for another set. Four sets of pull-ups, two sets of chin-ups, and two sets of parallel pull-ups. There was a time when I'd do more, but my school schedule over the lasts few years has me in maintenance mode. I just want to stay healthy, that's all. 

The good-natured ribbing happening in the other group interrupts my reverie. 

"That's not really a kip," one guy says. "We'll call it a half-kip." 

"Yeah it is!" the target of the criticism responds in a whiney voice. "That was a full kip!" Even though it's not a competition, he wants the validation of having successfully completed the challenge. Then he says something that makes me smile and draws a laugh from Kevin. 

"Wait. What's a kip again?" His timing, though unintentional, was perfect. It couldn't have been funnier in a comedy club. A kip is a swinging motion-assisted pull-up made popular by Ironman competitions. It's apparent that he's been claiming to successfully complete an exercise with which he is unfamiliar. 

Kevin and I glance at each other smiling. We wish everyone on small yard provided a humorous break from prison's drudgery. We move on to our next exercise, upside down rows, and then on to core. The cold doesn't feel so cold anymore, and what could be better than working out with a little comedy to lighten the mood?