An Open Letter To The Person Who Completed Their 9,000th Ride In My Peloton Class
Do you have a family? Do they miss you?
My existence eludes you, but I think of you often. Some Thursdays ago, I was awaiting my third live Peloton class when I heard you get called out and congratulated on your landmark achievement. As dumbfounded as I was upon hearing that you were about to complete your 9,000th ride, the instructor seemed just as amazed.
Though he was able to move past his dismay as he mounted up singing along with Ariana Grande, I could not come to grips with how a human could perform that many revolutions without actually going anywhere. I attempted to do the math in my head, but 9,000 divided by 365 was more than my feeble brain could make out as I struggled to complete the warm-up. I tried to concentrate and focus, but even during tap backs and mountain climbs, your triumph invaded my thoughts. At times of recovery, I would search for you out in a #boocrew of 20,000 cyclists for a high-five, but your screen name escaped me. Your accomplishment did not. You had reached a pinnacle of cycling success that I never dreamed existed. I continued to wonder what kind of a person could do what you have done.
At night, I lay awake, justifying the number of classes per day you must have completed to reach your cycling zenith. Even if you cycle every day of the year, that would mean that you would have done so for over twenty-four years. Yet Peloton started six years ago, so the only explanation is that you are adjusting your cadence and pushing your feet to the beat five or six times a day — maybe more. Do you have a family? Do they miss you? Their eyes must well up when they speak of you at dinners, wondering if you are getting the nourishment needed to complete such a feat.
If, like me, you’re doing this for your health, then it must take a village to feed you. Perhaps that was my answer! Your legs are pillars of strength that bring you closer and closer to digital milestones in the app — but you do this for a higher purpose. Your glutes and hamstrings are beasts that help you to pump water into a struggling Guatemalan village, or rather villages, and you only use Peloton to help pass the time. The villagers must tirelessly sew shorts to fit your ever-expanding quads. Or you simply live in Lycra until you allow yourself a few hours for sustenance and bathing before returning to your mission. Alas, I am stereotyping. The Three Amigos has always been a guilty pleasure of mine despite its white savior tropes and my imagination led me down a tunnel of cheap clichés. And still, I am no closer to understanding who you are.
I must confess that at one point my desperation to understand you allowed the thought to cross my mind that you had purposefully left your touchscreen on autoplay. My jealousy and cynicism can be cruel and cut deep from spite. I was feeling lazy and sore and was projecting. I did not want to get back on the bike the week following that Thursday when our paths first crossed, and my resentment towards your achievement made me doubt it. But I knew you would not, could not, lie to your Tribe.
Unable to eject you from my consciousness, I thought of you and all that you had done. So, I pushed myself and completed my very first milestone. As I stared down at the “5-Day Streak” marker on my iPad at the end of my 30-minute XOXO, Cody ride, the answer to the mystery that had been plaguing me for days began to unfold. I, at last, knew the identity of my cycling Keyser Söze. At 9,000 Peloton rides, you are no mortal, but rather an ancient god who has transcended from the heavens above and blessed upon us the motivation and inspiration that even I, with my makeshift DIY Peloton system, need during these turbulent times. I imagine that your bike must be chained down as it floats with the velocity of your lower limbs and in the presence of a deity. Are you why they invented the new model?
I know that I will never have confirmation of my suspicions and that you and I will never meet. We’ll probably never again be in the same virtual room once my 30-day trial runs out — but know this — you have changed me. And you will forever live in my mind pedaling towards a better tomorrow.
Sincerely,
thick_rides_save_thighs_2
