The Class Where Everything Clicked: Finding My Instructor Voice

The Day I Stopped Faking It

Look, if I'm being blunt, I spent my first few years on the podium pretending to be someone else. I would take a class with an incredibly charismatic, dance-heavy instructor and think that was the only way to fill a room. So I tried to be that guy.

I would script these deep, emotional monologues for the warm-up. I tried to add complex choreography that I frankly hated doing myself. I was a finance nerd who loved heavy intervals, but I was up there trying to act like a spiritual guru.

The breaking point was a Tuesday night class in San Francisco. I was exhausted from my day job, I lost my place in my own complicated notes, and I just stopped the music. I literally giggled on the mic, told the room I was completely lost, and said we were just going to do a heavy climb instead.

What It Felt Like to Be Me

That was the class where everything clicked. I stopped trying to be a therapist on a bike and just became the push coach I actually am. I told them exactly what the work was, asked for a max sprint, and let the music do the heavy lifting.

The energy in the room completely shifted. When you stop faking your vibe, riders instantly trust you more. I am loud, I am tough on form, and I am not especially nurturing. Owning that was a massive relief.

It is also why I eventually built On the Beat. When you are spending hours manually finding beat drops and staring at a sweaty note card to survive your own class, your brain is entirely on the math. Once I had an app mapping the drills to the music for me, I got my mental space back. I could finally look up, connect with the room, and just be present.

The Mistakes I Made Along the Way

Finding my actual voice took a lot of trial and error. Here is what I got wrong before I got it right:

• Mimicking the pelotonization of cycling. I tried to be a choreography guy. Girl, I am an endurance athlete who likes basic out-of-saddle jumps and heavy hills, and forcing the dance stuff just made me look insecure.
• Scripting the inspiration. I used to plan exact motivational quotes for my cool-down. It always sounded rehearsed because it was.
• Staring at the timer. I was so stressed about hitting the exact second of a moderate pace interval that I never looked at my riders. You cannot build a community if you are looking at your phone.
• Forgetting names. I still fight this one. I teach so many classes that I forget to ask, and it quietly costs rapport. I have to actively remind myself that for some people, just showing up is a huge deal.

Stop trying to teach like the most popular instructor on your schedule. Teach the class you would actually want to take, and trust that the right people will show up for it.