* Warning: While this may sound anti-runner, it is not meant to be. It’s merely a commentary on recreational warfare. I run. I run races. Many of my close friends are, you guessed it, runners!
Saturday morning Chris and I bundled up and biked our way down to Lake of the Isles for the Penn Ice-Cycle Loppet. I’ll give a brief, albeit belated, race report and photos tonight, but I need to get this little rant off my chest first.
My third time out (ever) riding in snow went pretty darn well. I maneuvered the roadways with confidence, but since we weren’t breaking any land-speed records yet, we politely pulled off for a couple of cars on the narrower side streets. All in all, our experiences with cars were friendly. Surprisingly, the runners made for our toughest encounter. They really seemed to resent sharing the trails around the lakes with us, even thought we were chugging along at a relatively slow speed, giving them their space and riding single file most of the way. A self-righteous group running three abreast around Lake Calhoun confirmed the animosity I sensed. When we announced that we were “on your left” and tried to pass single file—nearly having to ride in the snow bank—one of the women sneered to her cohorts that she was “not moving over” and went blabbing on about why as we trucked by.
It took all my strength not to turn around and explain a few things to her, but I tried to leave it behind with her and her shoddy stride. Boy was that painful. It incited me because I think people out recreating should be a little more cordial—especially in the winter months when that population is sparser. We’re all fueling up our endorphins, breathing in the fresh air and making our lives a little better. Why hate on those we encounter? Why not smile and say enjoy your ride/run/ski/etc.?
I try to be positive, but sometimes I feel that cyclists can’t win. I know it’s not a new gripe. I just make the mistake of assuming that being considerate (to a fault) and following the rules of the roadways and pathways will make my recreational experiences pleasant. I falsely assume everyone will love me if I’m “good”—okay, this is a deep-rooted psychological thing that probably stems back to childhood. (Note to self: therapy, therapy, therapy; it’s the only cure.) Cars don’t want us on the roads, but runners and walkers don’t want us on their paths. I may as well be one of those riders who throws caution to the wind, blowing stop signs and running women jogging with double-wide baby strollers and multiple dogs off the trails. ::heavy, heavy sigh::
There. I’ve publicly vented my frustration. Now to put this well behind me and remember I can only control my own cycling behavior. Next time I encounter such a crusty soul, I’ll turn around, smile and tell her to have a nice run. Then, I’ll suggest that if running makes her so miserable and bitter, then maybe she should take up biking instead!
