I found the Best new exercise class!
I found the absolute best new fitness class over the past weekend, and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s like a mix between cycling, sitting at a bar, and picking different Spotify songs while strangers take cell phone photos of you.
It’s called Pedal Wagoning.

The premise behind Pedal Wagoning is that you get your ass on there, you use the force of your own pistoning thighs to propel not only this giant bus thing, but also the older, cigarette-smoking relatives who happened to get on with you who simply refuse to pedal.
It’s great cardio!
You also get an ear drum workout, as your female cousins who are slowly getting boozy and energized are shouting over the passing traffic and each other as they vie for control of the ever-meandering, nearly-nonsensical conversation. You couldn’t ask for a more well rounded physical exercise experience from 12:30–2:30 on a sunny Saturday afternoon in downtown Cincinnati.
Cost benefit analysis
As a Pedal Wagon only costs about 450 bucks (+ tip for the driver, who literally does nothing but brake and turn and add weight that you, alone, need to pedal) you’re basically LOSING money if you do any other fitness class. Divide that up between the 15 of you that are on the Pedal Wagon at any give time, and maybe it’s 35 or 40 bucks. That’s cheaper than paddleboard yoga or liposuction any day of the week.
Sure, it may not feel worth it, particularly if you don’t drink and literally everyone is chugging Bud Lights and yelling at the top of their lungs, while you are hunched over the lacquered mobile bar top, sweat dripping into running puddles on the sticky surface, calf muscles quivering with unending exertion. But, at the end of it, as you walk stiffly to the third bar of your trip, pains shooting electric shocks from your achilles to your ass muscles, your shirt soaked through, you realize you did it for all the right reasons.

Recommendations
If you want to be a big old baby, you could get a group of likeminded individuals together who really want to pedal their asses off, and it wouldn’t be so hard. You’d perspire a bit, but everyone would pull their own weight. What I think you should do is find everyone you know who smokes and get them together and promise that you’ll bicycle each of them individually to three bars in a 2 hour span.
When you inevitably drop from the precarious barstool/bicycle seat directly onto your back in the middle of a busy thoroughfare, you can look up and see the content smiles of your unstrained fellow passengers, as they wonder idly why the wagon is now just sitting in the intersection at the corner of 12th and Vine, unmoving.
