Biker Barre keeps its riders in the dark

Even if you have never been to a Spin class before or are insecure about your body or your competitive nature would make it far too shameful if you were unable to keep up or won’t know what to do once you got there, it’s really hard to get embarrassed if nobody can see you!

Biker Barre Spin classes begin, middle, and end in the dark. All your secrets are safe!

I have only ever been Spinning at Biker Barre. So, I thought every Spin class was done in the dark — and I love it!  No, not complete darkness, but with all the lights off and only a smattering of electric candles. I am told by my very own Spin Goddess that other Spin studios have wall-to-wall mirrors, bright lighting, pane glass windows opening to the street, and computerized bikes with computer readouts that share your performance numbers to everyone else in class.

To me, if you’re not already a Spin Goddess (or an exhibitionist), being so exposed under the microscope when you’re just trying something new or suffering from any semblance of self-consciousness at all might just be a little more excluding than welcoming to first timers of those of us trying to get in shape, not quite yet in full #beastmode — don’t worry, no matter what your level of fitness or skill, Biker Barre’s welcoming to all (and I’ll use myself as proof of that). But it’s really pretty amazing.

Why? Well, I have absolutely never felt self-conscious about my form or my performance. And when you’re in a room full of 24-year-old Spin goddesses, it’s very comforting when you’re 46, a man, and over 300-pounds.  It’s also good because I don’t always follow the rules.

When I do my sprints, I don’t hold on to the handlebars, I sit up bolt-upright and really rock out to the tunes, sometimes moving my arms back and forth as though sprinting through really cold water that’s chest-high. It’s a sight to behold, but nobody except owls, aye-ayes, binturongs, macrotises, galagos, bush rats, caracals, eastern woolly lemurs, Iranian jerboas, oncillas, opossums, Panamanian night monkeys, pangolin, slow lorises, or tapetis can see. Oh, and I guess all those young girls who still have their amazing night vision.

Me? Pretty much blind as a bat (and, like a bat, I have exceptional sonar).  I bounce, I trounce, I rock, I whoop and holler, and I was always anonymous — until I started blogging, tweeting, and facebooking about my Spin classes. Now, my favorite ride instructors know me by my whoops and hollers. I guess I am Spinfamous.

(Originally posted on RNNR on April 4, 2016)