At 22 years old, I was ready to retire. Most college graduates toss their cap in the air, pop a bottle of champagne and set out to pursue aspirational careers, but after my time at Cornell University, I was ready to slow down—literally.
I had played four years of Division I Lacrosse with a grueling training schedule, unpredictable weather conditions and a challenging emotional landscape. I’d taught myself to be comfortable with discomfort and I was impatiently awaiting a routine that didn’t require pain or resilience. So, by the time my final game rolled around, I was ready to move on—or so I thought.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t long before I began to struggle. After taking a month off from all exercise and transitioning to a corporate job in New York City, I began questioning my self-worth on an hourly basis. How could I reintroduce competition into my life? I’d never thought I would miss all the 6 a.m. workouts, the weight training sessions or the wind sprints at the end of a long practice. (Okay, maybe I didn’t miss the sprints!) But I did long for that feeling of being part of a team that suffered, strived and succeeded together. I missed the pure athleticism and fitness on display at every practice and every game. My corporate desk job just didn’t give me the same high as slamming down a weight or sprinting through the line. I craved that post-workout euphoria.
So I tried yoga. I went for slow jogs in Central Park. I even challenged myself to a pushup competition—which of course I won—but my passion for fitness still felt suppressed.
But everything was about to change.
One afternoon, when I was living with my aunt and uncle, I came home to find a beautiful Peloton Bike sitting in the living room. My aunt had always loved cycling and finally pulled the trigger on ordering one, much to my delight. A solid 10 minutes later I was clipped in, a bottle of water in each holder, tapping my finger aggressively on the screen as I sifted through the endless classes and instructors.
I took a 45-minute Emma Lovewell class that day and was immediately hooked. That euphoric feeling I craved was back.
Over two years later, I’m still Peloton-obsessed. I’ve never felt more immersed in a community of athletes, especially during an extremely isolated time in this country. I buy into the programming, check in on my friends’ successes and try to convert others. And I even frequently find myself babbling about the company or instructors like most people discuss celebrity gossip.
I now take at least five classes a week, focusing on outdoor running, cycling, strength and HIIT. Sometimes I challenge myself to retake a class and beat my previous metrics, as if I were returning to the weight room at Cornell to beat my record on a fitness test. Thanks to Peloton, we can all be athletes at any age, any level of fitness, any time of the day. We can compete against ourselves and our teammates and we can find comfort in the discomfort it takes to get stronger and ride farther.
I’m so happy to be out of retirement.
If you’re feeling burned out, read on about how meditation can also ease stress and anxiety.
