EDG Cycle

Nestled in Highland Park's core is the Lifetime fortress. Once, it might've buzzed with typewriters and phones. Now? It hums with the rhythm of jogging feet and steady breathing. The world outside seems bathed in a nostalgic yellow, reminiscent of vintage family photos. While not as majestic as its downtown counterpart, the place offers a nostalgic escape, with beige hallways and mirrors capturing the ongoing dance of life. And in a quiet nook, a dim, intimate cycling studio stands, contrasting the facility's warm glow.

Stepping in, I discovered EDG cycle. The leader, a woman on the edge of time's vast expanse. Age had touched her, but her spirit? Still fiery. Around her hung an air of parting, echoing tales and teachings from numerous spin sessions. Today's session was different, though. It felt like cycling fused with yoga.

Pedals pushed against resistance, arms stretched skyward. The rhythm of exertion pulsed, yet distant. The fire was present, but not as scorching as the AMP's. She moved with grace, every push and pull a tribute to her time on this journey. But for me, still charting the waters of my late twenties, it lacked the electric rush I craved.

The attendees? A mosaic of seasoned souls, their expressions narrating stories. The workout, while not entirely fulfilling, was made memorable by this shared bond.

In the vast universe of fitness, EDG cycle shone like a soft, distant star in Highland Park. It had a unique allure, drawing a faithful audience. And anchoring it all was our guide, who, through every cycle, spun tales of commitment and zeal.

All the best,

Fred