<!– Field notes for becoming Fitter Happier –>

Same workout as the other day, though this time I bump the difficulty up to Level 9.

I notice the difference right away. Fifteen minutes in, my crotch becomes numb, and I recall that the cyborg is a post-gendered creature, reproducing itself via cybernetic information flows from my body through the bike and back again.

With five seconds left in the final hill, my pedaling wearies to the point that I am no longer providing sufficient electricity to the bike, and it briefly blinks off. Desperately, I pump my RPMs back up and my program returns from its brief sleep mode. I am the weak half of this relationship, I think.

So what is it that I bring to the cyborgian coupling?

I have mentioned my pain already.

Another element is my creativity. The computer cannot replicate that.

However, I can bring no creativity to the relationship between myself and the stationary bike. Foucault's docility robs me of my ability to act as a creative being, as it does for all of the rest of the hamsters at the fitness club.


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