The first time I rode a stationary bike was during my last year of middle school. I remember asking my parents for a sleek, tall Peloton for Christmas. As a girl prone to having phases, my parents were a bit hesitant. But, they admired my new exercise initiative. So, on the morning of December 25, I was met with a beautiful new bike topped with a bright red bow by the tree. My 8th grade self was over-the-moon excited.
Before I knew it, I was using my bike almost every day. I would look forward to adjusting the settings or trying new workout circuits after school. During my free time, I’d build new cycling workout playlists or shop online for cute workout clothes. Contrary to popular belief from my family, biking was not just a phase for me. It became a lifestyle. I continued cycling throughout high school and discovered that it was a way to relieve my stress. Cycling was a form of self-care that challenged me to become the best version of myself. Ultimately, my bike became my safe space.
But, then I came to college. It may sound a bit dramatic, but the separation between me and my bike was almost as painful as the goodbyes I said to my family when they dropped me off at VCU. It was hard to part with a bike that witnessed me during all my moments: the endorphin highs and stressful lows. My bike pushed me even when I wanted to give up. It kept me calm even when I would drive my shoes into the pedals and grip the handlebars tight. Most days, I would give my bike all the energy I had left in me. Its soft whir never died out.
I appreciated my bike – she had grown alongside me. We had history. Using a different bike when I went to the gym at VCU felt so strange. Almost as if I were betraying my bike at home. But, soon things changed. It was as if my middle school self was reliving Christmas Day all over again. I discovered a cycling class at VCU and it was amazing. Going to cycling class tethered me to my younger self. It reminded me of home and it helped me rekindle my love for cycling.
I soon discovered that biking in a class format also provided me with something that I didn’t have on my own: a community. Seeing others share the same passion for cycling as me was incredible. I was motivated to keep attending sessions with like-minded women and continue stepping outside my comfort zone. Pedaling while Post Malone songs played from the overhead speakers and working out underneath the fairy lights strung across the ceiling brought me a new kind of joy. It was reassuring to hear the instructor’s positive encouragement, especially when my quads were on the verge of their final moments. The droplets of sweat collecting on my forehead, my racing heartbeat, and my long exhales were universal codes for a good workout. My favorite part was the collective claps and cheers that marked the end of a successful cycling class. Although I am in the process of venturing into a new cycling era (Soul Cycle is next!), at the core, I will always be grateful for my original bike for sparking my love of cycling. I can’t wait to see what my next cycling chapter has in store.