One of my favourite fit feminist humans recently suggested I try the two-week trial membership for Lost Cycle, a Toronto-based woman-owned fitness company that expanded to my city in 2019. She thought I would like it because, as she said, it was “cycling in the dark to really loud rap music.”
I am already a fan of doing stuff to music in the dark, as I did with (Remote) Dark Dancing during the COVID pandemic. Also, the timing seemed good to counter any winter break inactivity. So, in spite of reduced holiday hours and some poor weather outside, I made it to four classes, two at each location.
The Lost Cycle gym ambiance is what might be described as “boutique warehouse,” with minimal windows and the company logo spraypainted on walls but also gratis cold towels and individual shower rooms with complimentary products. The fitness areas have quality equipment: ON the bike classes include clip-in shoes and earplugs, while OFF the bike rooms have infrared heat panels and Lululemon yoga mats. The class leaders were all chatty and friendly on their mics, many showing plenty of body tattoos.
And, as mentioned, the classes are held in the dark, with just enough artificial and real candle light to see the mirrors and other people.
In class I tried my best to keep up, but made modifications when my knees ached a little. The low lighting and loud music worked to lessen my self-consciousness (being new and only an occasional group fitnesser), though I needed to place myself close to the front to be able to follow instructions. On the mic, leaders were genuinely supportive, reflecting the vibe of the post-it notes on the walls outside: you are enough, you showed up today, you can do this. Other people I have discussed spin with describe being called out during classes. Here, there was none of that.
Near the end of both ON and OFF the bike classes, there is time to really get “lost”: the lights go off and the music goes up and you just have about 3 to 4 minutes to yourself.
And, during the “lost” times while cycling away or lying on my mat, I found myself in tears or near tears. Now, I am in a particularly vulnerable place right now, due to my recent job loss. While I didn’t check if other participants had felt the same thing, in every class I experienced in the dark a kind of emotional release I didn’t know I needed.
Lost Cycle seems to have have tapped into different elements of cycle/gym ambiance that makes it feel like fun, luxury, and intensity, all the ingredients for something slightly cultish. Though I was on my way to becoming an initiate, I’m not in a $$ position to keep the membership. At least I am taking the lesson home from Lost Cycle: turn off the lights, pump my mid-life music, and make time for both strength and vulnerability.
