Spin classes have begun to take over society as the go-to workout for those who want that extra push of intensity. One of the most well-known franchises in the business has become SoulCycle.

Elizabeth Cutler and Julie Rice co-founded the institution in 2006 on the Upper West Side of Manhattan with the purpose of making fitness inspiring. According to their website, “SoulCycle trains world-class instructors to teach the SoulCycle method which engages and empowers riders in a way that leaves them mentally and physically stronger than when they arrived.”

The whole concept is worked around the “Soul experience” being just as much of a mental exercise as it is a physical one. There are plenty of people who are addicted to the class, so I decided to go try it out for myself.

I signed up not knowing anything about the instructor or the playlist that would be blasted through the room. I got to the studio and was immediately overwhelmed with the amount of people who were there buying clothes and accessories with “Soul” or a skull on them. I signed the waivers and got fitted with the special biking spikes you need in order to ride ($3 to rent). I went with my friends into the locker room, changed into the spikes and we slid our way into the studio — the spikes are hard to walk in when you’ve never done it before.

The room is dark and they tell you to stand by your assigned bike with your hand raised if you need help. I waited for someone to come over and he had me hold my arms in several different positions so he could make sure the seat was in the right spot for my size. He clipped my feet in to the pedals and that’s when I knew they meant business; there was no way I was going anywhere, even if I wanted to.

The music started and the instructor stood by her bike on a platform with candles lit on the floor. She spoke loudly into a Britney Spears-style headpiece microphone circa 2000 VMA's.

Everyone got into the rhythm on their bikes and all of a sudden, it seemed like the entire class was on a single puppet string, moving up and down in tandem to the beat of the rap style music. I couldn’t get the hang of it.

What struck me the most about the whole thing was the spirituality of it. I felt like I was in temple. The instructor would say things like “Anything you want, you can have it; just reach down and put it on the knob.” The knob is between your legs on the bike and that is how you control the tension that the wheels give your legs — the tighter the knob, the harder the workout. When you close your eyes and listen and let your body feel the natural rhythm, that is when you feel the most connected to the part of your mind they’re engaging. It’s a crazy phenomenon that you can’t explain, you can only experience it.

By the end of the 45 minutes, I was dripping sweat. But, I also understood the craze. Now, that’s not to say I thought it was the workout method for me, but I used to not understand why people were so obsessed with it. It’s a cultish mentality that I believe some people really do live by. It truly is a pack, tribe, crew, posse, cult, gang, community. They’ve done well so far, opening 47 locations nationwide, with plans to open 50 to 60 studios worldwide by 2016 — they must be doing something right.