Peloton tried to kill me — and taught me something about business in the meantime.
Weekly email archives and occasional extra words that don't have a home anywhere else on my site.
Fun fact about me: I used to be a Spinning instructor.
After years of waking up at 5:30 a.m. for classes at the gym — I was a front-row woo girl no matter what time it was — my favorite instructor finally convinced me to take the teaching plunge.
In 2013, I paid my $325, attended a two-day training led by master instructors, and was officially credentialed to teach a room full of sweaty people on bikes that went nowhere.
(It was my first of many certifications, including my StoryBrand Guide cert, which officially renewed for a fifth year in September 2023 🥳)
My playlists slaaaaapped, and I’d like to think my rides were fun and accessible…yet appropriately challenging.
Also, I got to wear a battery-powered mic pack. And yell (encouragingly!) at a captive audience. Power trip! 💪
Not-so-fun fact: A decade later, I could not be further from a Spinning instructor.
I’ve been growing a new leg since my surgery, and for months before that, I was in too much pain to do much of anything athletic.
Lately, though — nearly 4 months post-op — I’ve felt strong enough to climb back on my bike that goes nowhere and ease back into workouts.
And? It’s just like riding a bike.
After feeling great on Saturday’s oontz-oontz EDM ride, I got a wild hair yesterday and decided to take the cycling fitness test called FTP: functional threshold performance. (Suggested alternate name: f*ck these pedals!!!)
FTP measures your fitness at a point in time and gives you starting-point metrics to build on, if the test doesn’t kill you first. (And we pay $49/month for the pleasure of taking these classes with obviously murderous intent?!)
It’s 20 minutes of pure hell with a rager of a playlist, starting from “wow this is already uncomfortable” (to the tune of “Lose Yourself” by Eminem) and ending at “I wish the lord would take me” (to “Sound of Madness” by Shinedown, which I don’t even remember because I’d entered a fugue state).
But it’s done. I have my number and a foundation to build on. The fun can begin — more EDM and Disney and boy-band rides!
And in another 6 months, or however long it takes me to forget that near-death experience, I may take the test again.
Your FTP score is meant to change as you evolve as an athlete. (Sometimes it even goes down, and that’s okay too, because few things in life are linear.)
And it occurs to me — as it so often does — that this process is a bit like creating a foundational narrative that guides the marketing for your business.
Not physically excruciating, thank god, but it can be a lot of work that doesn’t feel like it’s movin’ Ye Olde Needle.
It’s tempting just to keep throwing marketing spaghetti at the wall because at least that feels like forward progress.
But everything goes so much more smoothly when you’ve got a reliable starting point.
When you’ve already done the work to ✔️ understand where your dream customer is ✔️ where they want to go ✔️ what’s in their way and ✔️ how you can help them.
Because you have direction.
By the way, your brand’s story is going to change, too. That biz of yours ain’t static.
The stuff you need to do the FTP test is basically the same as what you need to create your foundational story:
🚲 An understanding that this is super important to your fitness/business
🚲 The courage (or wild hair) to get started
🚲 The sticktoitiveness to see it through
🚲 A cheerleader in a head-worn mic yelling at you (with love!) over an Eminem masterpiece to keep going
Oh, and a readiness to get right back to work when you’ve finished — with that foundation as your baseline: You’re more badass by a mile with it.
F-S: Reserved for rest