The Return of Black Fitness....

Last night, my wife and I were talking about our current circumstance- jeep in the shop, a small house with a large family, van overheating, etc. – and we talked about our reactions to stress. Her’s is to worry and then get in the car and drive somewhere– anywhere. My reaction? I lift weights. She was perplexed. “How do you manage the energy to go to the gym after spending all day with the kids, worry about our finances and then go to work at night?”, she asked. To me, though, working out is the easiest thing to do in response to stress.
Nevermind the health benefits to fitness against negative stress; I lift because the weight against which I’m pushing is a controllable entity. It’s an obstacle to my immediate physical circumstance that I can move for improvement of said circumstance. I can’t push away having 5 kids in a small house, my wife still working after 10 years of marriage, the car notes, the list is near incessant. That list is one of short to long-term occurrences, physically intangible entities that figuratively surrounds me. My attempts to push these away with my arms only results in my family questioning my sanity and the police knocking on my door- with no expectation of beer with said officer and Mr. Obama.
In the gym , racism morphs into a heavy bench press against which I press and elevate my pride. The weight of filial responsibilties becomes  a heavy squat of which my body acknowledges the load at the descent; then, my legs drive me to press up and forward as of no consequence. And my goals congeal into the nearly immovable deadlift that I get off the ground with my entire body, mind, and soul engaged in order to succeed completion of the movement.
The circumstances imposed on our lives can be managed with productivity, faith, and time. And the proof of this, as found in other aspects of life, is that I enter the gym, I subjugate the weight imposed upon me and I grow.