New York Minute 43 - Arrogant Cyclists

I run on city streets in the small space between the parked cars and the moving vehicles. 

Admittedly, this is a bit dangerous. I have to pay close attention to the traffic. Sometimes that gap closes and I have to take refuge on the sidewalk or between parked cars. 

I also need to be mindful of an array of potential hazards - buses pulling into and out of their stops, taxicabs pulling over to drop of their passengers, the doors on those cabs swinging open, double parked cars and delivery trucks, drivings looking for parking spaces instead of watching the traffic (or me), garbage trucks, construction sites, dumpsters on the side of the street which block any escape lane. 

The list goes on. Running in the streets is as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one. But I am careful, and I have been doing this for five years now without incident. Knock on blacktop.

Luckily, except for the parking space hawks and the guys in the garbage trucks, most motor vehicle operators are aware and respectful and help keep me free from bodily harm. I appreciate that.

I do, however, get some friction from people on bicycles from time to time. It's not the people who ride for exercise - they just care about their workout. And it's not the Asian and Latin American delivery bike guys. They're just trying to make a living and keep out of trouble.

But there are some young, male, joyriding American jerks out there who think that a) they own the street, b) runners are trespassing on their territory, and c) it is their civic responsibility to "tell off" any runner who crosses their path.

I encountered one of these lovely people this evening. He was looking down when I first saw him, i.e. not watching where he was going. When he looked up and saw me in front of him, he reacted.

"Really? REALLY?"

"Yeah," I said. What's the big deal? The guy had plenty of space.

"REALLY?" he said with elevated aggression.

"YEAH!"

"F%^& YOU!" he shouted (without the special characters).

I threw a few choice curse words back in his direction. He didn't stop. He didn't come after me. Just kept peddling back to mommy's house.

Why do I have to put up with this crap?

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