It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Real men don’t ride Pelotons.  

I can’t believe I’m thinking this.

I can’t really even believe I’m sharing it.  Maybe it will be cathartic.

You know, as in, maybe it will help. Make me feel better. But here it goes.

I’ve been riding my wife’s Peloton.

And I love it.

There.  It’s out.  Now you know.

You see, I’m an outdoor guy.   I fish.  I hike. Drive a real four-wheel drive.  No sissy crossovers for me. Back in the day, I hunted and trained retrievers.

Either it’s who I am or who I want to be.  At any rate, it’s how I want to think I am.  How I want others to see me. 

None of this aligns with riding my wife’s Peloton. 

I felt bad enough riding my bike on the trainer during cold weather.   At one point in my life I thought that if I could ski when it was 10 degrees outside or 10 below like it was many times in Vermont, that I could ride my bike outside when it was 30 or 40.  Alas, I found it easier to ride the trainer indoors.

Yeah, I was giving in, but at least I was on my bike.  The next closest thing.  Not braving the elements, getting muddy on the trail, but still giving those distinctions a nod.  It felt ok.

And it sure was warmer.

The Peloton game changer

Then, our sons gave Mary a Peloton for Christmas.

The men came and set it up for her – like they do every Peloton that’s purchased.

I hung around, acting like I could be helpful.  But all I really did was hold the door so they could wheel it in.

There wasn’t much to it.  Mostly they attached the video screen, and plugged the bike into the wall socket. 

I mean, what kind of a bike is it, if you have to plug it in?

My trusty Waterford was on the trainer next to the Peloton.  You know, my real bike.

So Mary came home, pressed some buttons on the touch screen and signed up for a class. 

I mounted up on my bike and thought I would take the class with her.  She would be on the Peloton and I would ride the trainer.

The class started and so did we.

When the instructor told the class to increase the resistance – I shifted to a harder gear.  When they stood, I stood.   When they spun, I spun.  You get the idea.

But Mary was getting all of these awesome metrics on her screen.  Where she placed in the class.  How many watts she produced.  High fives from other riders. 

I pretended not to care.

But within a week I asked, “Um, do you mind if I try the Peloton when you’re not riding it?”

She gave me a look like, “I thought you would give in before now,” and told me to have at it.

Please don’t judge.

Since then, I’ve done several live classes and few recorded classes. 

When I’m not in the mood to see some instructor who is ten times fitter than me telling me to “dig deep,” “find my inner strength,” or – and I am not making this up – asking me “what wig I want to wear to be my best,”  (WTF?) I click on the scenic ride option and just pedal for an hour while scenery from around the world passes by on the video screen.

I hate to say it, but the wig question notwithstanding, it’s better than spinning on my trainer.  It’s smoother, more comfortable and the stats on the screen motivate me to try harder.

On a recent ride, there were 11,000 or so other people in the class.  I was fighting to stay in the top 50 percent.  There’s something to be said for placing 5,165.

Spring will come soon, and I’ll be back out on the trail, the road, the gravel.  Maybe I’ll get my man-card back.

In the meantime, I need to go.  Class starts in 10 minutes.

If you want to follow me on Peloton search SarcFighter.