By the time you walk out of Ryan Lewis’ SoulCycle class, he hopes to have kicked your ass and put it back together. But the workout is more than physical—it’s mental and emotional.
The 25-year-old Lakeview resident gets on the mic at the helm of the trendy Chicago studios to give riding instructions as well as express empathy. He’s a recovering drug addict. And if he doesn’t tell you outright amid sweating it out, you can tell from his voice that he’s battled something fierce.
SoulCycle, for the uninitiated, is cycling meets choreographed dance class. The recognizable bright yellow stationary bicycles are longer than traditional spin class bikes, which the company says makes them engage your core muscles more efficiently. The instructor selects a playlist of trending music and instructs riders to pedal, perform exercises (such as pushups and crunches) across the three-tiered handlebars and lift weights to the beat of the music—all riders in unison.
Lewis began using cocaine in 2009, during his freshman year at New York University. Although he was a casual drinker in high school, booze and coke were more accessible in college. There he maintained two friend groups: one that heavily used substances and one that just drank the “normal, not-scary amount.”
The abuse became problematic when Lewis began using substances at home alone, ignoring both groups of friends. But he never felt lonely while using alone.
“I felt a deeper connection to the world around me with that feeling than being with the people I was around,” he said.
Lewis abused alcohol and cocaine throughout college. At one point, he even switched majors, hoping the change would signal positive life choices to his father, whom he suspected knew of his addiction.
He attended his first SoulCycle class the weekend he graduated from college in 2013. He had just landed a job in marketing.
With his new full-time salary, SoulCycle became a habit. Committed to staying fit, he would go three times a week despite still abusing cocaine and alcohol.
“Those rides where I was hungover were atrocious, but I went to them,” he said. “And I made it through them somehow.”
SoulCycle is intended to invoke a self-cleansing quality, much like yoga. Instructors encourage riders to leverage sources of stress, large or small, to fuel them during class. Because riders perform the same movements to the beat of music, SoulCycle hopes participants will work off one another’s energy and foster a community around the stress-propelled exercise.
But while other riders seemed to be building relationships with classmates and instructors, Lewis didn’t interact with anyone. Instead, he used his time in the studio to zone out and go “numb”—much like getting high by himself in his apartment.
Yet two months after he took his first class, one of his instructors asked if he had considered becoming an instructor himself.
Following that path is not easy. The process is an audition, not a traditional job application. After landing the gig, the company requires soon-to-be instructors to attend its training program four hours per day, four days per week for six weeks in New York City, according to its website.
Lewis wasn’t ready to leave his marketing job, but the instructor got him thinking about the switch.
“Every day that I went to work I thought about being an instructor at Soul,” he said. “There were some days when I really wanted to submit an application.”
It wasn’t until April 27, 2014, nearly one year after he graduated, that Lewis believes he hit rock bottom—and decided to get clean.
That day, Lewis intentionally picked a fight with a friend so he could leave their Sunday brunch early to get high alone in his apartment. But even before finishing all the cocaine he intended to use, he came to a realization.
“This isn’t me. This isn’t right,” he said. “I’m high right now and I don’t want to be.”
In days that followed, Lewis went “rehab shopping” with his mother, who had flown in from Florida without scheduling a return flight to find him the help he needed. They landed on an outpatient program that would allow Lewis to continue working during the day.
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After eight weeks of rehab and newly clean, he grew “sick and tired” of the hyper-corporate and drinking cultures associated with his marketing job. So in January 2015, he auditioned to be a full-time SoulCycle instructor, and he was accepted in March. The company placed him in Chicago, where he now teaches at the Old Town, Loop and the soon-to-open Southport studios.
Like most fitness instructors, Lewis brings a cheery personality and infectious energy to his classes, but he also opens up about his battle with addiction. If he’s teaching on the 27th day of the month, Lewis will share his struggles just after he and his riders have climbed and ridden down a “mountain”—after peak-level exertion.
But don’t think Lewis’ rides are downers—he definitely will whip you into shape. He just hopes his stories help create a safe place for his students to think about their own stresses while riding together.
“If I’m sharing what other people might see as deep, dark, harrowing secrets, it makes them more comfortable to maybe unload some of their baggage,” he said. “Not out loud, but if they want to it’s great. But just to feel better about what they’re going through.”
In addition to teaching, he still attends several classes per week, soaking up all the endorphins he can. The exercise gives him a high similar to when he was on drugs but without the detrimental effects.
“Just like talking a mile a minute, like so excited and zestful for life in a natural, balanced way,” he said. “Completely organic.”