Did no one see the prequel ad that Peloton ran over Thanksgiving that gave the backstory?
They were at Thanksgiving dinner with the extended family when he found her sitting by herself in the corner, looking sad and picking at the tiny portion of salad on her plate. He knelt down next to her and told her how many things he had to be thankful for this year. He was thankful every day for having her in his life, and he was thankful she had taken her doctor’s advice to start taking her health seriously, and that after losing those 80 pounds she was no longer pre-diabetic. He told her he was so proud of her and how far she had come.
Sensing she was upset about something, because he’s an in-tune kind of guy, he gently encouraged her to open up to him. She admitted she was starting to struggle to maintain the weight loss now that the weather had turned cold and it was getting harder for her to find ways to be active. He offered to buy her a gym membership but she said she didn’t have time to get to the gym, what between work and volunteering at the children’s hospital. He offered her some positive affirmations and told her he would do whatever it took to support her in this new fitness journey she was on that was strictly her decision, in collaboration with her doctor, that had absolutely nothing to do with him. Because he loves her no matter what she weighs — he fell in love with who she is on the inside, not on the outside. But her outside is beautiful, too. At any weight. Just want to be clear about that. (He said all that.)
Her eyes filled with tears, her chin quivered, and she blurted out “I want a Peloton!” He was quiet for a moment, then said “What the hell is a Peloton?” She explained it was a stupidly overpriced exercise bike that they couldn’t afford and didn’t have space for. He brushed her cheek with his hand and told her he would try to figure something out because he just wants her to be happy.
Then the scene cut to a montage of him working overtime, rubbing his chin while pouring over his finances, and watching the dates on the calendar slip away as Christmas fast approaches. Finally, the lightbulb moment. His eyes fall upon his beloved baseball cards that he had begun collecting with his grandpappy when he was just a wee thing, knee-high to a grasshopper. He closes the leather-bound case one last time and carries it to the door.
The next time we see them is on Christmas Eve. She says she’s heading to bed. He kisses her and says he’ll be up in a minute after he finishes the family-friendly holiday movie he’s watching. As soon as she’s out of sight, he jumps off the couch and runs to the back door to sneak in his friend and brother-in-law who had been waiting outside, because he responsibly planned the details of this Christmas surprise well in advance. Together, the three of them struggle to haul away his pool table, freeing up the space in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
With everything in place for the next morning, he retreats to the bedroom where the commercial ends with him smiling and gazing upon her as she sleeps. But, like, in a loving way, not a creepy stalker kind of way.
The commercial was 47 minutes long.