At the end of 2019, social media users let out a collective groan uniting people of all political stripes. A 30-second ad for a $2500 exercise bike (with an additional $40/month subscription fee) created a universal disdain for the overpriced machine and the fictional characters endorsing it –seemingly a catatonic wife held captive to the weight-loss machine gifted by her husband.
Parodies and hot takes ensued over this inordinately expensive toy and the insufferable people enslaved to it.
So, naturally, in the final days of this decade, I decided to finance a Peloton which I would pay off in monthly installments until the day they find my corpse splayed out before a hyped-up hard-bodied virtual instructor congratulating me for my 10,000th ride.
If you have followed my blog and social media in recent years, you know that CrossFit completely changed my life back in 2011, when I went from a sentient new mom to a hard-bodied obstacle-course-racing, rope-climbing, Broad-Street-running badass babe.
Almost a decade later, I remain a badass babe, but also one of the millions of middle-aged women living with chronic illness – in my case, CVID and ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.
I’ve had no choice but to temper my workout regimen, with slower and shorter runs and mostly DIY gym workouts where I was essentially paying $125 per month for the occasional use of a medicine ball. I desperately missed the camaraderie and competition of taking the regular classes, which had been such a big part of my lifestyle. But, ultimately, I knew that something had to give.
While visiting my parents over winter break in the basic-bitch-utopia that is the state of Florida, I discovered a Peloton in the fancy gym in the development where my parents were renting. For eight straight days of unseasonably grim weather, this machine became an inexplicable bright spot.
I had never taken a cycling class before, as the idea of someone yelling at me to pedal faster on a stationary bike makes me want to die. But for some reason, this was…fun? As a naturally competitive person, I enjoyed challenging myself on the leaderboard. And I could get the buzz of “competing” with others without exposing myself to the gnarly public germs that probably sent me into Septic Shock in 2016.
With a maximum weight of 3lbs. per weight, I scoffed at the arm workouts, knowing I could once deadlift 205 pounds. But 4-straight-minutes of shadow boxing with the woman leading my virtual class left me putting my arms down in exhaustion more than once.
I want a f&*king Peloton.
I’m not. I’m not poor either though. I make enough to pay my bills and live comfortably, but don’t have the disposable income for, say, a $2500 exercise bike with a $40/month subscription fee.
My Crossfit gym fees were actually really low for what they offered, grandfathered in with a family discount back in the day. And with a nice $250 annual insurance company kick-back and probable money saved on the health issues I may have if I remained lethargic, $125 per month was a bill I didn’t mind paying.
But, as I said, I wasn’t making proper use of the gym anymore. Plus, the really hot summer days made it extremely hard to work out in a sweltering garage – something I genuinely didn’t mind before my health got weird.
So, I canceled my gym membership. Which stung. But it had to be done.
Since I have decent credit, it took me about five seconds to get approved for the 0% APR finance plan over 39 months. That’s $60 per month plus the $40 membership fee, so $100 per month. Less than my Crossfit membership. And if my husband quits the gym for the Peloton, that’s even more money saved. (You can put as many family members as you want on your membership)
Another nice thing is that it really doesn’t take up much space. It’s about the length and width of a yoga mat and has wheels if you need to move it. It’s fine with my low basement ceiling, and probably will work in most smaller spaces.
You can save $100 on your purchase by using my Referral Code: B4SXMJ
If your insurance company has a fitness reimbursement program – most of the big names do – your Peloton membership may get you a couple hundred bucks back.
Follow me at @BrassInPocket, where my standings are currently the actual worst!
I have absolutely no relationship with Peloton. I paid full price for my bike and they didn’t give me so much as a hat to write this review.