Image by Amelia Holowaty Krales via The Verge
If you are a member of the Peloton universe, then milestone rides and their ensuing public shoutouts are part of your regular workout. If not, here's a brief primer: Peloton broadcasts live spin classes from their studio in New York. Every rider taking part comes up on a leader board for all to see. Among the information listed, along with your handle (mine is Mowgli9) and location, is the total number of Peloton rides you have accomplished. Typically, when a rider celebrates a round number like 100 or 250 or even 4,000, the instructor will congratulate them in front of the whole class. And, since these classes are broadcast around the globe, that also means the whole world is on your shining moment. Other riders are encouraged to pass along a virtual high five, which is pretty wild when you think about it..
You don't need to be in the New York studio to get a shout-out. For my 150th I was upstairs in my game room when Emma Lovewell congratulated "Mowgirl" in the last seconds of the ride. I don't like that she mangled my handle, but beggars can't be choosers. I haven't received a shout-out — or a high five — since.
This Sunday marks my 400th ride. I am taking a Jenn Sherman class, hoping to get that elusive congratulations. She likes rock n roll, so I even thought about changing my handle to something like BornToRun to pander for attention, but that seems silly and somehow beneath me — though not so far that I didn't give the thought a great deal of consideration.
But it also got me thinking about the shout-out. I'm a fairly accomplished individual. I've received a few accolades and won a few trophies. So why am I so eager for the approval of a spin instructor in New York whom I've never met in person, announcing my workouts to absolute strangers with whom I have little in common other than owning a stationary bike with a large video streaming screen?
You want to know what's more weird? I only have 383 rides under my belt right now. To make 400 by Sunday I literally need to ride 3-4 classes a day. That's a lot of time pedaling to nowhere. It gets better: I started yesterday at 371 and rode seven times. Today I added five more. This certainly qualifies as obsessive behavior.
But I need the shout-out. If someone out there knows Ms. Sherman, pass it along: Sunday morning, 10 a.m. Pop Ride. I am not lonely or bored or out of touch with humanity (which is very often the case in the middle of writing a book); I just want a global pat on the back.
They say that people live longer when they're in community. We are better for the connection. But who in the world would ever think that a spin bike could be so unifying? It's pretty outrageous, but it's also pretty cool.