12 kph. Max.
In Vancouver, one shares the road or sidewalk with a dizzying array of vehicles: cars, moped, bikes, bladers, runners, scooters, and the very odd Segway (he appeared to be using it in lieu of a wheelchair). In general we peacefully co-exist with the usual frustrations between drivers and bikers who look precarious, runners who don’t yield to faster-moving bikers and bladers, and between runners and walkers who walk four-across the sidewalk.
I guess I’ve created in my mind a hierarchy of transportation modes, slotting runners between bladers/bikers and walkers since I’m personally not that fast. Runners are in the midst of getting some exercise but are slow enough to give you plenty of warning that we’ll be crossing your path. I’d like to think that most runners are generally alert enough for their own safety to be aware of peripheral activities and feel the social responsibility to take whatever action is appropriate.
So I was really disappointed when we were out running and a woman in my group felt that we were fast-moving vehicles (we were going 12kph – max.) who screeched first at a youth ahead of us who fumbled with his basketball. Later in the same run, a girl darted from her bench in the open area (i.e., not a path) outside Scienceworld to fetch her hair accessory just as we were arriving and was scolded for her impulse in front of her friends.
Why can’t we all just play nice?