Soul Cycle

Soul Cycle.  I’ve heard about the place for years and have passed by their shiny, white studio on M street a few hundreds times on my way into Georgetown to buy something I probably have no need for.

I’ve occasionally tossed around the idea of going to a class, but in my near three years of living in DC (God that’s scary to write) it never happened – until a couple of weekends ago.  Two of my friends are die-hard members of the Soul Cycle Cult and somehow convinced me to haul myself out of my (very comfortable) bed on a Saturday morning at 7:30am to go to one of the classes.  They (as well as myself) knew I would hate it and in typical Dean fashion, I didn’t want to let them down…

Soul Cycle involves two things that I loathe: physical exercise and clubs.  And so when I entered into their Apple-esq building – and begrudgingly handed over my credit card to be swiped a whopping $40 bucks – I knew that my sweat wasn’t going to be the only salty thing about me that morning.

I changed into the world’s ugliest shoes, was handed a bottle of Voss (or some other kind of overpriced bottled tap water), and walked into the pitch-black exercise room.  One of the instructors graciously “fitted me” for my bicycle because I couldn’t see a damn thing in the little corner that I was crammed into.

As I sat wondering why I was paying to exercise in a dance club, this wild woman appeared in front of the room on a stage with a spotlight on her bike.  Before I had the chance to turn and curse my friends, she started the class and the room began to fill with the sound of rolling wheels.

At first – I didn’t think it was so bad.  I mean I had gone mountain biking for God’s sake over the July 4th weekend…how bad could it be.  Right?  Yea, not quite…

Before I knew it, the woman at the front of the room looked as if she was possessed by a demon dancing around her bicycle as she played with the lighting as if we were in some weird SOHO club that I would probably never get into on my own.  I can’t quite remember because a solid portion of the class involved me reaching down into the dark abyss to try and figure out how to decrease the resistance on my bike, but I’m pretty sure she screamed a few times…or maybe that was me? Ehh…who knows.

The 45 minute class went by pretty quick and while I definitely didn’t love every moment of it, I have to say that the music was pretty solid.  I (guiltily) like just about anything that has an EDM vibe to it and while I typically listen to such music while walking to work/class/Chipotle, it was nice – almost encouraging – to work out to.

So how am I describing my first “Soul” experience?”  Not too bad, but probably something I won’t be doing in the future.  I mean come on here people…$40 to sit on a bike in a dark room with loud dance music playing?  For fourty bucks I could Uber (in a black car) to El Centro for bottomless food and booze…or buy like four burrito bowls WITH guac…do you see what I’m getting at here?

In all seriousness, it was cool – I guess – to finally try the place out.  While it’s not my cup of tea, it was a good workout and an…interesting…experience to look back on.



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