What’s up, sufferers?!

Big ups to any first-timers joining us online or IRL. Newbies, don’t be concerned with performance. What matters is that you showed up for yourself—that you have mounted the bike and agreed to pedal in a world that offers no justification for pedaling. Already, this is heroic. Let’s slay today’s thirty-minute ride, babes.

One must imagine Sisyphus nice, warm, ready to sizzle like a fajita. Let’s get loose. Let’s turn resistance up to 35. Let’s make our revolt visible. We’re getting out of the saddle in 3,2,1…

Cadence should be 60-70. Breathe. Be worthy of your suffering. Breathe. Suffer.

The most important decision you made today was not destroying yourself. The second most important decision was destroying your PR. Shoutout @MariaInTexas for hitting 85 cadence during that interval. That’s not a workout. That’s a cry for help—a bad bitch rebelling against the void. Respect, fam!

YEAH. That burn in your thighs isn’t pain, hunnies. It’s evidence that you exist. It’s a middle finger to this godless reality indifferent to calf definition. Remember when you woke up this morning in a room that did not feel like yours? In a life that seemed borrowed? Strife was your companion then as it is now. Resistance back to 15, you beautiful rebels. More suffering is around the corner, as it is around all corners.

Hips back. Progress isn’t real, but struggle is. Say it with me. Breathe.

Y’all might be carbon-based miracles, but that does not excuse floppy elbows. @BootyIsMyDuty, despair seems to be rising in you. Are you resigning to your fate? I’m gonna need you to pick your pace up off the floor! Rest is not your right. Rest is an accidental gift from the indifferent cosmos you’ll have to wait fifteen more seconds to receive. Oh, my thighs are feeling spicy. Back in the saddle, my trembling champions. Soon, we will be reacquainted with our old training partner, anguish.

Many claim tragedy is the cyclical labor of life. But real tragedy would be if Sisyphus reached the summit to find it empty of challenge. Or if we were to somehow reach the end of our cross-training machines. Life and Peloton spare us that disappointment—high five (if you must)! Resistance 40.

Alright, you temporal specks of dust, time to accept your cool down. But do not become attached to it. Future struggle awaits. Thanks for being here. Same time tomorrow. And the next day. And the next after that. And the day after that. The absurd is eternal, and so are we for thirty minutes at a time.

I’m sure some of y’all are interested in today’s playlist. It’s public on my Spotify under “Wailing into the void + the best of Wham!” And remember the discount code ANGST20 gets you 10% off hoodies.