“On your left!”
A few minutes before this announcement from a fellow adventurer, I exited the Sugar Hill Greenway onto Whitehead Road for the return trip to E.E. Robinson Park. Upon exiting, I noticed a gentleman leaning against a sign on the sidewalk. Assuming he was a fellow runner planning to enter the Greenway in the coming moments, I quickly discovered his route mirrored mine. I shifted on the concrete jungle to provide additional space as his words filled the air.
“On your left!”
He rode by on a unicycle. Not two wheels. Not two feet. One wheel.
Learning to ride a bicycle is difficult, but learning to ride a unicycle seems futile at first glance. Of course, practice precedes progress. For instance, I’m a good runner. I’m not fast enough to secure a podium finish in Boston, New York City, or the other World Marathon Majors. But I have run for twenty years. I’ve finished fourteen marathons, including Boston, and multiple race distances up to 26.2 miles. I’ve made ample mistakes and ample gains as an endurance athlete. I’m an amateur through and through.
Phillip, the guy I met riding a unicycle, has practiced his unique craft for six years. I would surmise that he’s fallen off his bike hundreds of times over that span, but those falls have enhanced and sharpened his balance, sense of space, and ability to navigate uneven surfaces. He’s learned from others and himself. He’s practicing and progressing with every ride.
After Phillip rode by me, I continued my run, though I never lost sight of him. At the city roundabout, he stopped for a quick breather. “Thanks for pacing me,” I said as I reached the roundabout sixty seconds later. After chatting for a few moments, I discovered that he planned to ride past E.E. Robinson Park en route to another park. With a wide sidewalk, we set forth on a parallel course.
Honestly, I felt cool running with an unicyclist, though I recognize that all the attention from motorists was for Phillip. Running is cool, no doubt, but it’s not often that you see somebody riding a bike with one wheel around town for miles. Speaking of which, I ran 6.5 miles, so Phillip likely biked 7 to 7.5 that day. I didn’t think to ask whether that’s a high or low figure, but I’m amazed at the effort. He navigated cracks and lips in the sidewalk, stacked logs that caused him to momentarily ride in the road, and thick grass that tested his proprioception.
After reaching Robinson Park, I said goodbye to Phillip and reminded him to ride safely. He doesn’t need the reminder, but I think runners and walkers and cyclists and unicyclists all need the reminder. Every makeshift memorial I see on a road from time to time is a visual cue to be mindful of the surrounding hazards.
Like Chazz Michael Michaels in Blades of Glory (2007), I’m a lone wolf on the roads. There’s me, myself, and I. While many runners prefer the company of others for the miles ahead, I’m content going solo time and again. In hindsight, I don’t know if I felt lonely last week or the chance to have a conversation with an unicyclist stirred my usual silence towards gab, but I’m glad I exited the zone to talk with Phillip and discuss life for twenty minutes.
One wheel and all.