Soul THE Cycle MYSTIQUE
Shedding some light on a workout that takes place entirely in the dark
Kelly Ripa, Lady Gaga and Chelsea Clinton are said to worship at its altar. Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise went together until they broke up, but paparazzi shots of the ex-Mrs. Cruise emerging from a session, looking tousled but glamorous, show she’s still devoted.
I’m talking about Soul Cycle, the boutique fitness obsession that’s gained fans on both coasts by offering a new, uh, spin on indoor cycling. The 10-year-old Manhattan-based program has gained a foothold in the Bay Area, with six studios opening up in the past three years in Palo Alto, Marin County, San Francisco and, most recently, in Walnut Creek’s Broadway Plaza.
Enthusiasts rave about how it brings a mind-body sensibility to what’s touted as an intense full-body workout. With pumped-up music, the classes are taught by candlelight and by instructors who inspire riders with messages that are designed to push them to the heights of exercise ecstasy.
“Every time I come out of class, I feel stronger both physically and mentally,” says Laura Potter of Los Altos, whose family teases her about her three- to four-time-a-week “addiction” to Soul Cycle in Palo Alto. “There is something about being in the dark, with candles, loud music and a supportive instructor that lets everybody let go and just be who they are at that very moment.
Indoor cycling purists, however, are less enthusiastic. Marjorie Maggenti, a longtime instructor at the Berkeley YMCA, says Soul Cycle is probably more successful at marketing itself than in actually giving people a good workout. She notes it’s notoriously pricey, charging $30 for a 45minute class.
In its efforts to distinguish itself from other indoor cycling programs, Soul Cycle also encourages strength and dance moves that Maggenti says aren’t meant to be done while cycling, haven’t been proven effective and could lead to injury. “I don’t go to a step class and try to cycle,” she says.
But Gabby Cohen, Soul Cycle’s senior vice president for public relations, insists that an in-house doctor helps create programs that are “incredibly safe and effective.”
With this debate in mind, I decided to give Soul Cycle a try. Certainly, I was curious about the mystique, but I also had gotten into an exercise rut and wondered if Soul Cycle might be a way out.
“There is something about being in the dark, with candles, loud music and a supportive instructor that lets everybody let go and just be who they are at that very moment.” — Laura Potter, Los Altos
As I approached the doors of the Walnut Creek studio for my midday Friday session, I confess, I was intimidated. For one thing, I wasn’t just new to Soul Cycle, I was new to indoor cycling. In fact, I hadn’t been on so much as a regular bicycle in years. I knew I was in for some pain, certainly in my “sit bones” from not being accustomed to being in the saddle.
Just as unnerving was the prospect of Soul Cycle’s possible dark side. Vanity Fair and other publications, as well as a hilarious spoof in the Netflix comedy “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” depict a culture of exclusivity with hard-bodied trophy wives battling for bikes in the front row, all the better to bask in the attention of gurulike instructors spouting New Age platitudes.
But any concerns I had about encountering a group of Real Housewives dissipated when I walked through the doors of the gleaming white studio. I was quickly greeted by friendly staff in lemon-yellow tanks and T-shirts and the others arriving looked like regular women on their lunch break.
Two friendly staffers greeted me: instructor Bea Del Rosario, a former dancer who began teaching Soul Cycle in New York four years ago, and Tatum Getty, a senior manager for “influencer marketing.”
Getty was to join me for my first ride. But first, she supplied me with ear plugs — because “the music gets pretty loud” — and helped me learn to clip my shoes into the pedals. “That’s probably the hardest part of Soul Cycle!”
The gossipy accounts had it right on one matter: getting the right bike in the right place can be a big issue, Getty explained. Like Adele fans rushing online to nab concert tickets, Soul Cycle riders rush to the company’s app every Monday at noon to book their bikes for the coming week. Some like to be near the exit; others prefer a perch in back. But, yes, desirable front row spots go fast.
During my ride, one of those spots was occupied by Shaady Alavi, a UC Berkeley sophomore who comes to Soul Cycle with her Alpha Phi sisters every couple weeks as part of a regular sorority outing. “At first I wasn’t down to sit in the front row, but then you want to be. That’s where the best riders go, and you want to try and match their pace.”
The midday class was only about half full. Getty says early morning and evening classes get packed, with more men coming in, and riders who range from indoor cycling newbies like me to experienced cyclists training for long outdoor rides.
The room was almost pitch-black, except for the flames that flickered up from four large candles arranged in front of Del Rosario’s bike. We started out with a “slow jog,” but soon the pace picked up as the music thumped louder and faster to the beats of Rihanna and Kanye West.
By 10 minutes in, I was already thinking, “When is this going to end?” My quadriceps and sit bones were hurting, and sweat was flying off me.
But then it got better. As Del Rosario encouraged us to “just try,” or “be the best version of yourself,” I found myself crossing some threshold where the discomfort ebbed, the energy rose, and I began to enjoy pumping my legs and swaying to the music.
Next up came the strength intervals, and things got tricky, in ways YMCA instructor Maggenti had suggested. During the pushups, I had trouble coordinating dipping my elbows while simultaneously pedaling. Even when I got the hang of them, I didn’t think they offered the same challenge as doing them on the floor.
Still, when the class was done, I felt like I had done some work. And afterwards, as we piled out of the studio and into the locker room, I witnessed the other marquee benefit of Soul Cycle. There Alavi and her friends clustered with Del Rosario and other riders for some post-class chatter.
While I’ve been around plenty of exercises classes where students bond, Soul Cycle enthusiasts speak as if something especially profound is taking place within this fitness community and within themselves.
Del Rosario say she’s met all her best friends through Soul Cycle, while Potter describes walking into the studio as “walking into family.” She added, “It is a community that I feel will help me out in good times and in bad.”
And while Potter agrees that classes don’t come cheap, she jokes that her husband tells her it’s less expensive than a personal trainer — or therapy. For her, it’s totally worth it.
“Soul Cycle is the hardest workout I’ve ever done, but also the most rewarding,” she said. “It’s changed my life.”