An electric bike is not a cheat sheet for an exam, nor is it an escalator to the top of a mountain. An e-bike is a tool that redefines the boundaries of what’s possible.
Yes, I own an electric bike. An e-bike.
I already know exactly what you’re thinking. I know because you’ve told me. In person. Wearing that specific facial expression people usually reserve for announcing they’ve ordered a gluten-free pizza or taken up meditation.
“But you’re just coasting. It’s basically a moped.”
Let me set the record straight.
Your Butt Hurts Just the Same
This isn’t a metaphor or poetic license. It is a biomechanical fact, proven by personal experience over hundreds of kilometers of cobblestones where the electric assist quietly cuts out and the terrain deals with you on its own terms—no matter how sophisticated your drive system is. The bike helps. Your butt suffers. The relationship between these two facts is way more complicated than it looks from the sidewalk.
But let’s get back to you and your expert knowledge on electric bikes.
The Electric Assist
Do you actually know what happens once you cross 25 kilometers per hour? The motor shuts off. Automatically. By law. Whatever you don’t peddle yourself, you don’t get. It sounds like a cheesy quote from a motivational calendar, but in this case, it’s a literal description of physics. You want to go faster? Peddle. The bike isn’t going to applaud you, it won’t praise you, and it won’t send you a notification with a fire emoji. It will just wait to see if you can handle it on your own.
I Have to Peddle for It to Help
Just so we are absolutely clear, let me repeat that: I have to peddle for it to help. Electric assist is not an autopilot. It’s a co-rider that pushes only when you push. If you stop, it stops. Honestly, it’s a better friend than most people in my life—it never leaves me to do everything alone, but it won’t do all the heavy lifting for me either.
And just in case it wasn’t obvious: I am exhausted.
The Armchair Cyclist
Then there is another phenomenon that I haven’t been able to scientifically classify yet: the person who doesn’t even ride a bike, but knows absolutely everything about e-bikes. A rare creature. They mostly operate in comment sections and at café tables, watching cyclists pass by with the look of someone who could do it too, if they only wanted to. And their theories are flawless.
“You’re just coasting. That’s not a sport. You’re just cheating yourself. A real cyclist peddles without assistance. A real cyclist suffers. Suffering is the ultimate validation.”
I would love to spend two hours with this person along Berlin’s Teltowkanal. Not as a challenge. Just as a kindness.
Because not everyone rides a bike as a competitive sport. Some people ride because it’s fun. Some because being outside makes them feel good. Some because the electric assist allows them to cover thirty kilometers where, without it, they’d manage ten—and still make it back home without needing an ambulance. Some because their knees aren’t twenty anymore, yet they still have every right to move. And some simply because it’s a beautiful day, the canal is flat, and the water is glistening.
These are not failures of athletic character. These are reasons.
I can always turn the motor off and peddle normally. And I do. There are days when I want to. There are days when I don’t—and that, with all due respect, is solely and exclusively my business.
The E-Bike Guide
An electric bike is not a cheat sheet for an exam. It’s not an escalator to the top of a mountain. It is a tool that redefines the boundaries of what is possible—and those boundaries belong to the person sitting in the saddle, not the one standing on the sidewalk passing judgment.
So: yes, I have an electric bike. My butt hurts. And I’m exhausted.
And both of those things, ladies and gentlemen, are completely fine.
The author wrote this text after returning from a thirty-kilometer ride, having switched the bike to zero-assist mode for the final quarter of the trip out of pure spite. She notes that spite is expensive, but occasionally, it’s worth every penny.
