This morning I saw a dark- haired man in lycra bike shorts on a slick tired bike looking back quickly, chin up, smiling, for his partner who is far behind on a fat-tired cruiser. She is dressed in relaxed-fit khaki pedal pushers, her lips pressed into a thin line. He wants her to be next to him I think, but he does not realize that requiring them to go his pace means she cannot.
This pattern was repeated among many couples. A few men were wise enough to trail behind their beloved, on rollerblades, on a bike, running beside, at her pace so they could be together, a concession made in love with apparently ample reward.