Racing the Eastern Kingbird

I knew there would be a sprint to the finish. I just didn’t know where the finish was. It didn’t matter. Since no money was involved, I knew it would be an honest sprint.
My opponent was an Eastern Kingbird. He had wings; I had my fancy red Raleigh racing bike. I was out doing my daily 20-mile training ride, coasting along about 14 miles per hour when he lifted off the top of a low bush, about three feet from the right side of the bike trail.
The Eastern Kingbird is a fine example of how, dressing in only black and white, one can look especially fashionable. If you untwist its Latin name, "Tyrannus tyrannus", it comes out something like King of the Tyrants. Cool name.
Typically, the bird’s body is about 8.5 inches long with a wingspan of about 14 inches. It puts on an amazing aerial display while catching bugs from a perch. Its flight is usually in a straight line with stiff-wing fluttering making up most of the action. How this neotropical migrant ever makes it to South America is amazing, as is all bird migration, actually.
This morning’s bird did not seem to have bugs on its mind when it launched into the sprint against its 160-pound opponent. Had my arm been a bit longer I could have reached out and given him a high-five, or the avian equivalent, at the end. For about 30 yards we raced, 15, 16, 17 miles per hour, head-to-head toward the next vertical twig. That was apparently the finish line and he knew it. With a choppy surge, and the thrust of his beak, he beat me! He gave me a high-pitched "dzeet", sound as I sped past.
In return I thanked him for the wind sprint. I needed that.