Diary Entry by: Erin Zingré | Illustrations by: Alisa Harvey
I'm an indoor cat, so biking in Seattle in the rain and cold in the winter is not my cup of tea. Craving going for a bike ride, I finally succumbed to the Sirens call that haunts so many 20-something white women: I began taking spin classes.
A SoulCycle studio opened just a few blocks from my work, and I decided to give it a try. What was I in for...
The bikes were uncomfortably close to each other, compared to the other studios I had visited. Due to the close proximity, there was not an easy egress to slide through the narrow aisle of bikes, once a rider was seated. Getting situated on my bike in the back row, I began feeling a bit uneasy without the ability to quickly tap out, if I hated this ride.
The theater decor of many other studios I tried featured soothing blue or clubby multicolor lighting. Not this studio... The lighting was completely dark, save for the bright red Exit sign, draping an unsettling red glow on the riders. The other lighting source? A line of candles in front of the spin instructor.
Halfway through the workout, and the club bangers and empowering platitudes were booming through the studio. This particular workout featured a lot of "push-ups," where you lean over your handle bars and push yourself up for many reps. My discomfort and anxiety was in full form, as I sweat in the back of the studio. I stopped briefly doing push-ups to catch my breath. Reflecting on my life decisions, I took stock of the situation. Basking in the red light, gazing upon my candle-ensconced spin instructor, as 50 other riders did push-ups in unison, I could not divorce from the idea that we were bowing down to our almighty Spin Lord.
- Erin, 32
