The workout at the gym went well. Burpees, Kettlebell Swings, Wall Balls and Double Unders. Felt good to get the heart pumping and blood flowing, and if I’m honest, felt good to have a defined focus of just pushing through a workout as opposed to the million emotions that have kicked in my head in the last 48 hours. KRS-One, Nirvana and Underoath blared on the loudspeakers. Encouragement from the other athletes was known. Felt so good.
The crew was small at the CrossFit Gym in the South Bronx, pretty typical for a Monday morning I can imagine [And no, I took Subway and didn't drive, not making that mistake again.] Roberto, Michelangelo and Eric, felt a bit like the vanilla wallflower but that was my own fault. Everyone was welcoming and accommodating, and it was good to suffer together.
After the WOD, while we foam rolled, talked about The Open, and cleaned up our sweat spots on the gym floor. The owner begin telling me more about the gym, vision, branding, future, ethos.
Then the bomb dropped.
“We also hold a gay man night, if you ever want to come.”
I froze, blushed, smiled awkwardly, and picked my jaw up off the floor. Did he just say what I think he said? Didn’t I mention that I was married… to a woman? Why did I take my wedding band off to workout?
OK, Eric, have an open mind. Don’t be rude, it’s probably just some confusion, no reason to get annoyed. Maybe you should be flattered, as weird as that sounds.
“Yeah, I thought we’d play some poker, chess, board games. Just give a chance for people to relax on a Friday night. People can bring their own snacks to share. Families are invited too! I think it could be fun.”
Then it hit me, “GAME NIGHT”
“Of course, I’d love to come.” I responded, “My wife would too.”