SoulCycle’s Founding Story Just Got a Very Un-Soulful Plot Twist
Ruth Zukerman says she helped build the boutique-fitness empire, introduced its other founders and then got pushed out of the partnership — a story she is finally telling in the documentary “Spin Wars.”
For years, SoulCycle sold more than a workout. It sold a mood: candlelight, loud music, emotional breakthroughs and the seductive idea that your 6:15 a.m. class was somehow a glamorous group therapy session. Celebrities rode. Editors rode. Socialites rode. The rest of us tried to understand why everyone was talking about their instructors as if they were rock stars.
Now the company’s origin story has its own dramatic third act — and it is less “find your inner strength” than “read the partnership agreement before you build a fitness empire.”
Ruth Zukerman, the cycling instructor who helped create SoulCycle and later founded rival Flywheel, says she was forced out of the company by business partners Elizabeth Cutler and Julie Rice roughly a year and a half after SoulCycle launched in 2006. In the new documentary “Spin Wars,” Zukerman describes being blindsided when she was told in a meeting that she was no longer a partner.
That is a particularly brutal twist in a business story built around intimacy. Zukerman says she brought her loyal following from a Reebok Club cycling class to SoulCycle, taught as many as 21 classes a week and helped develop the workout method that would turn the brand into a boutique-fitness phenomenon. She also says she had introduced Cutler and Rice to each other.
And, according to the Page Six report on the documentary, she had never signed any paperwork.
The founder who says she disappeared from her own origin story
The awkwardness did not end with the meeting. Zukerman says Cutler allegedly offered her the option to stay on as an instructor after telling her she was no longer part of the partnership. The company’s public version of events was considerably tidier.
In 2010, The New York Times reported that Zukerman had left SoulCycle under circumstances she said she was legally restricted from discussing. The paper also noted that the company’s website did not mention her, even as Cutler and Rice became the public faces of the brand’s founding story.
“Ruth worked with us for a time. We decided to part ways. We wish her the best,” Cutler and Rice told the Times at the time.
That line has the polished chill of a corporate email sent five minutes after someone changes the locks. Zukerman, meanwhile, went on to launch Flywheel, creating a full-scale rivalry among the fast-growing indoor cycling brands. “Spin Wars,” which also features Peloton co-founder Marion Roaman, explores the competition between SoulCycle, Flywheel and Peloton — three companies that helped turn stationary bikes into status symbols, confession booths and, for a while, the hottest seats in town.
By SoulCycle’s peak, the company had roughly 99 studios and had attracted a celebrity clientele that included Madonna, Oprah Winfrey, Ashley Olsen, Harry Styles, Kelly Ripa, Jake Gyllenhaal and Charlize Theron. David Beckham was photographed leaving a Los Angeles studio, while Ripa appeared at a charity ride. The brand’s most famous classes became appointment viewing for people who did not necessarily need the exercise but absolutely needed to know who was in the room.
A source previously joked to Page Six that getting a spot in one of the buzzy early-morning classes was like needing Michelle Obama’s cellphone number. That was SoulCycle at its most powerful: It made access to a workout feel like access to a social universe.
Why Zukerman is talking now
Zukerman has discussed the split before, including in her book “Riding High: How I Kissed SoulCycle Goodbye, Co-Founded Flywheel, and Built the Life I Always Wanted.” But she says “Spin Wars” gave her a reason to finally tell the story in greater detail.
At a screening of the documentary during the Hamptons International Film Festival, Zukerman said she had kept the experience private for years. “I’m 68. I literally had a thought at one point two years ago . . . ‘Why am I not talking about this?’” she said.
She also said she had signed an agreement after her departure, though she described the language as “a bit loose.” Her decision to speak now, she explained, came from not wanting to regret keeping the story secret. “It’s been very cathartic, obviously, to finally tell the story,” she said.
The timing gives the documentary an extra layer of cultural archaeology. SoulCycle is no longer the unstoppable lifestyle machine it once appeared to be. After the COVID-19 pandemic, the company closed roughly 20 studios in 2022 as part of a broader restructuring effort, and more locations closed this summer. Instructor pay was also reduced.
Meanwhile, the founders’ business story took a very lucrative turn. Cutler and Rice sold their remaining interest to Equinox Fitness in 2016, reportedly making $90 million each. Zukerman’s version asks an uncomfortable question that is bigger than one cycling studio: Who gets remembered as the visionary when a creative idea becomes a corporation?
The vulnerability business
Zukerman believes the quality that made her magnetic on a bike may have left her vulnerable off it. SoulCycle’s signature was emotional openness — instructors shared personal moments, riders were encouraged to push through discomfort, and the dim rooms made sweating in public feel almost cinematic.
“I kept it close to the vest, and as time went on, you know, we get older, and we start to look at life a little differently,” she said during the screening. “Why am I not talking about this?”
She has also said that being vulnerable was central to her success as an instructor but did not serve her well in the business relationship. “It didn’t really serve me well with what happened with Julie and Elizabeth. I mean, look what happened,” she said. “And at the same time, it was a learning lesson for me, but I never gave up who I really was and I remained true to myself.”
That is the most revealing tension in the story. SoulCycle made a fortune by turning sincerity into a product, but Zukerman’s account suggests that sincerity may not have been the language spoken in the boardroom. The classes promised community; the company still had partners, ownership and paperwork — or, in her telling, a conspicuous lack of it.
Documentary director Philip Byron is not being subtle about his view. “What happened to Ruth is completely f–ked up and everyone needs to talk about it,” he said, adding that he hoped the story would resonate with anyone who has felt screwed over.
Whether viewers come away seeing Zukerman as the erased architect of SoulCycle or as one part of a more complicated founding history, “Spin Wars” is reviving a very specific kind of celebrity-adjacent nostalgia: the era when a candlelit cycling class could determine your social calendar, your personality and possibly your entire origin story.
The bike may be stationary. The grudges, apparently, are still doing laps.
Matt Bellamy’s New Romance Is a Bakery Soft Launch With Divorce Papers in the Background
The Muse frontman has gone public with AnneMarie Morin in the most unexpectedly charming way possible: a Chicago cookie shop, a mirror selfie and one very cheeky caption.
Matt Bellamy has entered his bakery era, which is not a sentence anyone had on their celebrity-breakup bingo card.
On Thursday, October 15, the Muse frontman went public with his relationship with AnneMarie Morin by posting a carousel from Cloud Cookie, the Chicago bakery she owns. The photos include Morin taking a mirror selfie, the pair sharing a kiss and Bellamy looking fully committed to the role of supportive boyfriend-slash-part-time bakery employee.
“New part time job, boss is a tough cookie,” Bellamy captioned the post.
It is a small caption with a surprisingly large amount of information packed inside it. There is the relationship announcement, the location tag in spirit, the flirtatious workplace joke and the unmistakable message that Bellamy is not merely being photographed near Morin. He is apparently on the payroll now.
The soft launch has officially become a hard launch
Celebrity couples have perfected the art of the soft launch: a cropped shoulder, a suspiciously familiar hand, two wine glasses placed a little too close together. Bellamy skipped the coyness. A kiss in a mirror selfie is not a cryptic hint. It is a relationship announcement with decent lighting.
Morin, 34, appears throughout the carousel at her own business, while Bellamy, 48, plays along with the bakery branding. The setting makes the debut feel less like a glossy red-carpet reveal and more like a very specific kind of modern celebrity romance: one person has a famous band and a complicated public history; the other has a cookie shop and the power to put him to work.
Neither Bellamy nor Morin has added further details about the relationship. For now, the Instagram post is doing the talking, and it is saying enough. The couple are together, comfortable being seen together and apparently happy to let the public meet them somewhere between the ovens and the mirror.
The timing is doing plenty of talking too
The post arrives while Bellamy is in the middle of divorce proceedings from Elle Evans, his wife of seven years. Bellamy filed for divorce in August 2026, citing irreconcilable differences, and requested sole custody of their two children, Lovella, 6, and George, 2.
That context gives the bakery photos their unavoidable extra layer. This is not a new romance appearing in a vacuum; it is arriving during a very public transition in Bellamy’s family life. Neither Bellamy nor Morin has said when their relationship began, and the post does not explain the timeline. It simply places Morin in the frame now, smiling, kissing him and presiding over the cookie counter like a boss who has already assigned him the closing shift.
Bellamy had already spoken publicly about the split from Evans earlier this year. In an interview with The i Paper in June, after confirming their separation, he described it as a situation involving “really unexpected circumstances” and said he had been focused on looking after the children and creating stability at home.
That comment now sits beside a very different image: Bellamy in a new relationship, joking about a new job and appearing in a decidedly domestic setting. The contrast is striking without requiring anyone to manufacture a storyline around it. One moment in the public narrative is about family upheaval; the next is about cookies, kisses and a caption that knows exactly what it is doing.
Matt Bellamy’s dating history is already a small Hollywood timeline
This is not Bellamy’s first time becoming part of a celebrity relationship storyline. Before Evans, he dated Kate Hudson from 2010 to 2014. The pair were previously engaged and share a son, Bingham, who is now 15.
That relationship placed Bellamy in the center of a very recognizable Hollywood constellation: an internationally successful musician, one of the film world’s most famous actors and a child whose family tree includes several A-list branches. His marriage to Evans was a quieter chapter by comparison, though the divorce has now brought his personal life back into the headlines.
The AnneMarie Morin debut feels different from a standard celebrity-couple photo op because it is so pointedly personal. There is no red carpet, no coordinated fashion moment and no magazine-cover polish. Instead, there is a local business, a mirror and a joke that turns Morin’s professional authority into a flirtation. It gives the relationship a little texture before either of them has offered a formal introduction.
And honestly, “my girlfriend owns a bakery” is an extremely strong public debut. It has built-in charm, a setting and a clear supporting character: the tough-cookie boss.
Welcome to the bakery boyfriend industrial complex
There is something deliciously familiar about the celebrity partner who suddenly appears to have taken on an unpaid job at the other person’s business. It is the relationship equivalent of being handed an apron and told to start learning the register. The gesture says affection, but it also says access. Bellamy is not just posing with Morin; he is stepping into her world, or at least letting followers see him there.
That distinction matters. A glamorous couple’s dinner can be staged anywhere. A bakery carousel has a little more personality. It tells us where Morin spends her time and gives Bellamy a role that is playful rather than grandiose. He is not arriving as a rock star. He is arriving as the guy whose boss is a tough cookie.
The post also neatly avoids the overproduced language that often surrounds celebrity relationship announcements. There is no lengthy declaration, no dramatic caption and no attempt to narrate the entire romance. Just a few snapshots, one kiss and a joke. The result is casual enough to feel spontaneous while still being clear enough to close the door on ambiguity.
For Bellamy, the next chapter is now unfolding in public on two tracks: divorce proceedings involving his former marriage and a new relationship that has made its first appearance in a Chicago bakery. For Morin, the introduction comes with a very memorable title: girlfriend, business owner and apparently the person in charge of Bellamy’s part-time employment.
Whether he can actually handle the job remains unknown. But the launch itself? Perfectly baked.
Scooter Braun Just Pulled the Most Boyfriend Move Possible: He Visited Sydney Sweeney on Set
Sydney Sweeney was filming in Hoboken when Braun stopped by for lunch, watched from behind the cameras and turned a regular workday into a very public little relationship tableau.
There are grand romantic gestures, and then there is the quietly devastating power move of showing up at your girlfriend’s movie set in a baseball cap, eating lunch nearby and watching her work from behind the cameras. Scooter Braun appears to have chosen the second option.
On Thursday, October 15, Sydney Sweeney was filming The Housemaid’s Secret in Hoboken, New Jersey, when the 45-year-old businessman and investor stopped by to visit. The 29-year-old actress, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, was seen spending part of her break with Braun at a local restaurant before returning to the production. Braun, in a red baseball hat and brown jacket, was then spotted watching her film.
It is not exactly a red-carpet hard launch, but it has the same effect. A boyfriend appearing at work, sitting close enough to the action to watch the day unfold, has a particular kind of rom-com intimacy — especially when the workplace is a movie set and the person doing the working is Sydney Sweeney.
The set visit is the relationship content
Celebrity couples can spend months communicating through curated vacation photos, cryptic captions and suspiciously well-lit glimpses of a shared life. This was much less polished and, somehow, more revealing. Sweeney was between scenes. Braun was nearby. They grabbed a quick bite. Then she went back to work while he stayed to watch.
That small sequence creates an entire mood without requiring a kiss, a coordinated outfit or a caption designed to detonate online. It is the relationship equivalent of being added to the family group chat: not flashy, but unmistakably integrated into the day-to-day.
There is also something deliciously unglamorous about the setting. This was not a yacht in the Mediterranean or a velvet-rope dinner in Los Angeles. It was Hoboken, a local restaurant and a movie set where the glamour comes with call sheets, costume changes and long stretches of waiting around. Braun’s visit makes the romance feel less like an event and more like a routine — the kind of routine celebrities usually work hard to keep out of frame.
Of course, the frame is doing plenty here. Sweeney is one of the most recognizable young actors working today, and The Housemaid’s Secret is not a casual afternoon project. The sequel follows Millie, returning to take a job in a house where she is not allowed to see the woman who employs her, only to uncover a locked-door secret darker than her own. That is a fairly intense workday. Having your boyfriend appear with lunch and then quietly observe from the sidelines is almost comically supportive by comparison.
Sydney’s thriller era gets a spectator
Sweeney was also filming scenes that day with new co-star Stephen Kalyn, who arrived on set with a brand-new hair color. The production is expanding the cast around Sweeney and Michele Morrone, with Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Snow and Paul Anthony Kelly also joining the sequel.
That detail matters because the visit happened in the middle of a real production day, not during a promotional appearance. Sweeney was moving between the practical machinery of making the film and the much more personal business of spending time with Braun. One minute: scenes, cameras and a new co-star. The next: lunch with the boyfriend. Then back to the locked-door thriller.
It gives the whole thing a pleasingly cinematic contrast. On screen, Sweeney’s Millie is heading toward secrets hidden inside someone else’s house. Off screen, the most visible mystery is considerably more straightforward: Braun is there, he is watching, and the relationship is apparently comfortable enough to exist in the middle of her workday.
That is why the sighting lands harder than a posed couple photo might. A posed photo announces a relationship. A set visit suggests a life around one. The distinction is small, but celebrity culture is built on small distinctions: who gets invited, who appears in the background, who is waiting when the cameras stop rolling.
Not a performance, just a very public little routine
The appeal is partly the lack of ceremony. Braun did not arrive as a red-carpet accessory, and Sweeney did not have to pause production for a relationship photo op. He showed up during a break, they went for food, and he watched her return to the job. It is an ordinary gesture made notable by the people involved and the fact that somebody happened to be looking.
That is the sweet spot for modern celebrity gossip: intimate enough to feel like a clue, public enough to become a conversation. Fans do not need a dramatic declaration when the visual already supplies the caption. A man in a brown jacket standing behind the cameras while his famous girlfriend works is practically a complete sentence.
It also resists the usual binary of celebrity romance coverage. This is neither a theatrical hard launch nor a secretive non-event. It is a soft, practical kind of visibility — the relationship showing up where relationships actually show up, in the gaps between obligations. Sweeney has a film to make. Braun has time to visit. They eat, he watches, and the day continues.
For now, that is the entire scene: Sweeney filming The Housemaid’s Secret, Braun dropping in, a quick restaurant stop and a front-row seat behind the cameras. No matching leather, no staged staircase kiss, no suspiciously poetic Instagram caption required. Just the most textable image of the week: Sydney Sweeney working through a thriller while her boyfriend hangs around like the world’s most glamorous production assistant.