dear cyclist on asbury street,

you whizzed around the corner with your lady friend, both of you painted in your sleek spandex outfits--black and shiny with patches of florescence. your sunglasses protected your eyes from the sun on that beautiful afternoon, and from the wind that was probably hitting your face at that high speed.

you and the bike seemed to be one unit--your hands seamlessly fit the handlebars, gripping the gear shifts and breaks, and your feet melded into the pedals like they were an organic extension of your limbs. you're a natural, cyclist on asbusy street. your lady friend too. the closeness with which you two rode gave the appearance that you were on a tandem bike. like you two and your bikes were all one unit. only after you turned the corner did i realize that there were four wheels instead of two, two bikes instead of one. i thought you might crash into each other, but you didn't.

actually, when you turned the corner was when i really noticed you. (there are lots of bikers all over the roads that i run, and to be honest, i don't pay a lot of attention to your type most of the time. you look quite similar painted in spandex and hidden behind sunglasses and helmets.) you noticed me too at that point. you saw me running toward you on the side stretch of the shoulder just outside of the white line on the road. to warn your lady friend/pseudo-tandem-bike-partner about me, you shouted back to her, "walker up."  which actually sounded like, "wokrRUP." (whatever that means...wait...walker? is he serious?) cyclist, i can tell you that from that point on, i was very clearly not walking. your little shout-out to your friend gave me that surge of motivation to pick up the pace. truthfully, i wanted to kick your butt for interpreting my run as a walk, but i kicked my own instead on the second half of that asbury street loop. 

who was your friend that rode a few hundred feet behind you? he wore a funny helmet that had holes in it, like a white beehive sitting on top of his head. i wished that your friend had another cyclist riding close to him like you and your lady friend, because by the time i crossed paths with him, he would have certainly yelled "runrRUP." (yes, runner, not walker, that's me.)