Adventures of an Ambivalent Gym Queen, Dispatch #111708

Gym Queen's Log, Workout Date 111708: Methinks Friday's back-in-the-pool party was behind Saturday morning's soreness. I'm wondering if the reaching over the head during the breaststroke might be the culprit: my spinal surgery took place in my cervical spine, so it stands to reason that my neck would be vulnerable to strain--especially without the discs that used to cushion the bones.

These and many other concerns followed me into the weight room, where I carefully monitored my neck during the arm, shoulder, and back work. The breaks between reps paid off: I made it through without any physical ajada. Only tomorrow will tell for sure, though.

The quietude of my steam room meditation was violated by two fellow black dudes, who played the roles of Chitty & Chatty in the Y's unwitting production of Can't Seem to Shut the Fuck Up. I can't say whether it was a black thing or a bad case of buddy love, but the duo's roles were later reprised by two other black guys who went at yakking as if they'd spent their lives in a fucking monastery.

Fair being fair, I have to take my share of the passive-aggressive blame for not having asked them to shut the hell up. Wonder what I was afraid of: a two-on-one physical confrontation? Making permanent enemies at the club? The realities of steam-room ownership (as in I don't)? Being called a Tom? Or fighting in front of the white members? Obama's election doesn't wipe all the default behaviors away--in this case, the don't-fight-in-front-of-white people rule. Finally--in the interest of the aforementioned fairness, I wonder further: would I have said something to them had they not been black?

I have no idea--at all.

Progress, yes, but there's still further to go.