While doomscrolling Facebook Marketplace recently, a posting for a Saratoga Cycle caught my eye.  

Years ago, way back when I was in rehab, the Saratoga Cycle was the cool stationary handcycle. Therapists hyped it, and we lined up for our brief time in the cardio spotlight. With its C-shaped base and table, the Saratoga Cycle was easy to roll under, and its padded headrest and adjustable tension made it ideal for exercising your upper body and getting your heart rate up in the confines of rehab. 

But all the bells and whistles couldn’t change the fact that A) it was a stationary handcycle and B) stationary handcycles are boring. I know people who have relied on stationary handcycles to stay fit for years, but I’ve never heard them rave about an “awesome session” or a “great ride.” They do it because they care about their health and because finding convenient, effective ways to exercise as wheelchair users is difficult.  

That thinking is how I ended up with my own Saratoga Cycle. After I finished rehab, my parents located a used model that another quad was selling, and it found a home square in the middle of my living room. I was fully aware of its intrinsic boringness, but the Saratoga Cycle offered a way to potentially rebuild the strength and stamina I’d lost during my months in the hospital. A boring workout seemed better than no workout at all. 

I tried everything to make the sessions more enjoyable — watching TV, listening to books and music, and even moving the cycle outside. Nothing I did could change the fact stationary cycling left me unfulfilled. A part of me knew the cycle and I were never going to last, but another part of me couldn’t quit the idea of a satisfying workout and the hope the Saratoga Cycle offered. 

Thus began my decade-plus on-off relationship with the device. It spent most of that time collecting dust in my attic, but every few years I’d convince myself something had changed. I’d get my caregiver to dust it off and lug it down, only to inevitably ask them to drag it back into storage soon after. 

I tried to move on by donating the Saratoga Cycle to a local gym, but when I saw a newer, flashier model on sale online I couldn’t help myself. Maybe this will be the one?!  

It wasn’t. Two months later, I negotiated a deal with the gym to swap my new model for my old one. I missed the way it sounded and felt. Soon after, it was back in the attic. 

Somewhere in there, I started working with a physical trainer, finally discovering the workout I’d craved. I still missed the satisfying feeling of exhaustion I remembered from good workouts before my injury, but the focused sessions came closer than anything I had tried post-injury. 

With that need filled, the Saratoga Cycle slipped into the recesses of my mind. I rediscovered it during a deep clean last year and posted it for free on Facebook Marketplace. The mom of a new quad claimed it. She was searching for a satisfying way for her son to exercise. 

Apparently, her son came to the same conclusion I had, because less than a year later I came across her post on Marketplace: “We were gifted this on this site, but it does not fit my son’s needs. Would love to pass it on to someone else who can use it.” 

I smiled, momentarily dreaming about bringing the Saratoga Cycle back for one more run, and wished her son luck finding a way to exercise that works for him. They’re out there, I swear.