I used to schlep from my office to a 6:30 p.m. Soul Survivor class, shower, and make dinner by 8 p.m. Every week. The waiting lists were insane. The bike you got mattered. Thirty-four dollars for a cycling class and nobody blinked. That wasn’t about fitness. SoulCycle was always about selling a version of yourself back to you, one you could embody if you worked hard enough. The brand said as much itself. Its tagline was never about the workout: …