Dear Airdyne, I Hate You

Dear Airdyne,

With your wheels of hell

And power to crush souls,

I fear I can’t last much longer.

My lungs burn, my legs are giving up.

My heart rate is through the roof.

You were supposed to be my friend,

To improve my fitness,

To make me a better athlete.

Yet here I am,

Questioning how bad I want this.

What a sorry friend you are.


What do you do

Besides shred my legs,

Blacken my vision,

Negate my ability to walk?

The possibilities are endless.

Coaches delight in such things.

Room for creativity, they say.

New ways to torture the athletes.

Makes me want to hide the bike.

Oops, it broke.

No, I don’t have money to replace,

Sorry. No really.


Maybe one day I will conquer you.

I made it through double-unders,

Grew accustomed to long rowing sessions,

But this is worse.

This will take much more.

More heart, soul, grit.

It’s sucking me dry!

I’ve no more heart left.

My soul has shriveled and died.

To hell with grit. You win, I give.

I am doomed to suffer.

All of my pain belongs to you.