DENVER - OrbitCycle opened six studios offering "lunar resistance spin" classes where bikes hang from harnesses, playlists include rocket sounds, and instructors shout motivational phrases like YOU ARE ESCAPING ATMOSPHERE. The craze has taken off in a city known for its love of extremes, with memberships sold out despite a waiver mentioning dizziness, nausea, and believing you are an astronaut.
Founder Jess Kline said the workout combines cardio, core, and the fantasy of leaving group chats behind. "It's about more than just exercise," Kline explained during a press demo. "It's about breaking free from mundane routines and experiencing the thrill of the unknown - minus the actual unknowns like space debris or cosmic radiation."
Physicists gently noted that bicycles function poorly without ground, but Kline rebranded this as "innovation discomfort." She added, "The point is to push boundaries, not gravitational ones. Plus, we've got weighted shoes to simulate gravity you paid to ignore and hydration stations with Mission Critical electrolyte drinks for realism."
Participants wear weighted shoes to simulate gravity they paid to ignore. Hydration stations serve electrolyte drinks labeled Mission Critical and one flat seltzer for realism. "It's the perfect blend of fitness and fantasy," said Sarah Johnson, a regular attendee who recently upgraded her membership after a successful corporate presentation.
Orthopedic surgeons reported minor rope burns and one sprained ego, but insurance classified space bikes as "trend equipment" alongside kettlebells and regret. Dr. Emily Chen, an orthopedic surgeon, noted, "While the risk of serious injury is minimal, we do see some cases of overzealous participants who might have a bit too much faith in their ability to defy gravity."
Competition has already arrived with Mars Treadmill Pop-Up and Low Orbit Lagree, which offer similar experiences but with different gimmicks. City noise board received complaints about bass drops synchronized to imaginary launch countdowns, leading to discussions on the appropriate decibel levels for space fantasy.
Urban planners asked whether space bikes reduce traffic. Kline said they reduce traffic emotionally. "People are too busy escaping their lives to sit in gridlock," she explained. "It's a form of mental commuting."
Critics call the craze expensive theater, while enthusiasts call it the first fitness trend that lets you scream in public without a sports context. "It’s like a roller coaster for your soul," said Michael Thompson, who has been attending classes since they opened.
Next month, OrbitCycle adds a corporate package: team building where departments race to escape a fictional debris field before quarterly earnings. Kline closed the press demo by pedaling vigorously while going nowhere, which attendees called metaphor and investors called scalable. "We're not just about fitness; we're about creating memorable experiences that can be leveraged for business," she said.
As the space bike craze continues to spread across Denver, one thing is clear: in a city where innovation is celebrated, there's always room for a little more outlandish fun - provided you have the right waiver and some electrolyte drinks.
