Bicycle: A True Story

As a member of the United States Coast Guard on active duty, I’d say my sister spends significantly more time working out than the average American. She religiously wakes up at 4:30a during the workweek to exercise, won’t shut up to everyone and anyone she meets about how much she loves CrossFit, and has on multiple occasions brusquely ended phone calls with us to go to the gym. Which I guess makes sense. I mean, if you’re going to be part of a team offloading $19 million worth of cocaine, I suppose you’d need a muscle or two.

If there’s any form of physical activity my sister does not enjoy, it’d be running or anything like it and in fact shares these sentiments openly.

“I would lose a lot of weight running the hills in San Francisco if I lived here because I’d run faster since everyone is always looking at you. Oh, so do people in Charleston [South Carolina]! I like it there, it’s a beach town. But not like Newport Beach [California] where it costs $1 million just to take a shit.”

Not long after my sister moved for a new assignment, she announced her intentions to bike to her base from her home. Naturally at this point, my mother curiously interrogated her about this plan, therefore negating the need for any of the rest of us to ask any questions.

My mom: Wait. So you’re going to BIKE to work?
My sister: Yes.
My mom: How are you going to BIKE to work?
My sister: I’m going to ride to the rapid transit station by my house, take the rail to the closest station by my base, and then ride from there.
My mom: I see. How far is it if you BIKE to work?
My sister: Around 30 miles or so.
My mom: Do a lot of people on your ship BIKE to work?
My sister: Yeah, because parking on the base is really crowded.

Bike ho, bike ho, it's off to work she goes

Bike ho, bike ho, it’s off to work she goes

My dad: Do you even have a bike?
My sister: No, that is the only thing missing from this equation.