Some of you may have no idea what SoulCycle is, most likely because it is a fairly new company and currently only resides in affluent communities, justifying its hefty price tag of approx. $30 a class. While that is certainly out of my desired price range for a fitness experience, I was able to justify the purchase when it was specifically for a fundraiser organized by Jacqui Saldana of BabyBoyBakery.com. If you haven’t heard her story, I highly recommend going to her site. She is an amazingly raw, inspirational and openhearted woman who is living through her darkest hours with her husband as they grieve the loss of their 3-year-old son, Ryan Cruz.

As I entered the cheerfully bright lobby of SoulCycle, I immediately noticed the crowd of athletically attired people, each equipped with fitted cycling pants, sweat bands and cycling shoes. I didn’t quite stick out like a sore thumb, as there was a handful of others who were clearly there for the first time, with shared characteristics of yoga pants and loose fitting gym tops. Fortunately, SoulCycle offers shoe rentals and the attendants at the front desk were excited to prepare us for our first ride. To be clear, I have attended numerous spin classes, both in college and at 24 Hour Fitness, but what I was about to experience is in a completely different realm in both intensity and significance.

Once in the cycling room, it’s uniqueness from any other fitness class is instantly apparent. The lights are dimmed, almost completely off, and flickering LED candles are interspersed throughout the compact room filled with dozens of cycles. I was about to embark on 45 minutes that would test my endurance, both physical and mental, and would bring out a part of myself that I am not yet well acquainted with. Led by an energetic and sincere instructor, who demanded of us that we give it our all, the class was asked to support each other, to motivate our cycling neighbors by pushing through and sending them compassion and acceptance. We were asked to acknowledge that each and every person in that room is going through something, whether good or bad, and that for those 45 minutes we would let everything else fall away and be present in that room with those people.

At the peak of our pain, our instructor refused to let up, declaring that this pain is temporary, similar to whatever pain and trials we experience during our lives, it is temporary, so long as we keep moving. Perhaps the most unexpected, was the segment in which we all cycled standing up, with our eyes closed and our heads bowed, reflecting on whatever struggle is at the forefront of our life right now. Those couple of minutes, sweat poring down my face, arms, back and legs, dripping in between my finger-tips, were laden with self-realization.

I was in an environment in which I felt safe to acknowledge my fears that are frequently on my mind: being helpless to protect my loved-ones, letting my dreams and goals slip through my grasp, and a fairly recently acquired fear of losing touch with my essential self, the part of me that has been a constant throughout my life, that has influenced who I am and who I want to be, as well as how I connect with those around me. In those moments I struggled to breathe through the tears choking me, fighting to get out. Tears that were born from pain over the trials of every person in that room but were transformative in their release. Somehow, after such an emotionally and physically exhausting set, I was flooded with an electric energy that shot out from my spirit and stayed with me long after the class was over.

SoulCycle, while financially draining, is without-a-doubt worth it. Even if you only go a couple times a year, when you most need it for a physical and spiritual renewal, you will walk away feeling empowered and centered. This experience has left me feeling ready to take on whatever may be coming my way, with the knowledge that it is okay to have moments of despair. For once we trudge through the doubt, grief, etc., we become that much closer to actualizing our full potential and strength.

Until next time,

Candace