During my daily run I'm usually concentrating heavily on very erudite ruminations. Things like who was the actor who played Officer Jim Reed on the old Adam-12 series or, if you tighten the springs on a toaster will an egg bagel or an English muffin achieve a higher trajectory when shot out.

But every now and then, I witness things that cause me to break stride and do a running double take. I recall the marathoner competing in a tuxedo and carrying a waiter's tray, the woman running with her pet pig, as well as a shirtless guy cruising along in sub-freezing weather. But recently I was able to put a complete end to my ongoing log of runner-related craziness. The gold medal of running absurdity can officially be awarded by my recent spotting of a technological exercising marvel.

Now I realize that the solitariness of the long distance runner has given way a little to modern electronic conveniences. There are mechanical gadgets like beeping heart rate monitors, computer integrated pedometers, and MP3 Player/FM hand held stereos. These things have always intimidated me a little bit, as I was never valedictorian of my eighth grade electronics class and, instead, I fall within that inauspicious category of mechanically declined. Nine playback mode, 64 track RMS programming, anti-roll, anti-skip CD players and thumb-nail size 32 station memory Walkmans are items better left for others who can coordinate things on the run and avoid the risk of electrocution. But techno runner has just been carried to a different stratosphere with my newly crowned champion of ridiculousness in running.

On a recent Saturday morning run, I saw him as he came up over the crest in the hill ahead. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. Couldn't be. Wouldn't be. Shouldn't be. Ah, but it was. The techno King of the Ring was approaching.

A man with a cell phone. Running. And not away from somebody he'd just stolen it from or while trying to catch a taxi. He was running as a form of exercise while all the while engaged in telephonic conversation. This guy was bringing new meaning to long-distance communication.

I doubt they had Mr. Fartleck Fiber Optics in mind when they coined the term mobile phone. He must have a heck of a cell phone bill when he's putting in long runs while training for a marathon.

I'd heard about the "talk test," which tells you you're running too fast if you can't carry on a comfortable conversation. Perhaps this guy was a little too literal in testing this theory. I never felt that there was a requirement of having another human being along with which to truly converse.

Putting this sighting of Mr. Telephonic Traveler to song, and with apologies to the Manfred Man singing group, I offer my version of their Do-Wah Diddy-Diddy Dum Diddy-Do:

There he was just a running down the street,
Moving his lips,
And just a shuffling his feet,
Talking yakitee, yakitee, ya-a-kitee-do.

He looked silly (looked silly)
He ran slow (ran slow)
He looked silly (looked silly)
He ran slow (ran slow)
And I couldn't believe my eyes.

Before I knew it
I'd caught up to him.
He's talking yakitee, yakitee, ya-a-kitee-do.
Still chatting on his phone
Just as natural as could be,
I'm hearing yakitee, yakitee, ya-a-kitee-do.

I looked on over at him,
As he was running up the street.
Engossed in conversation
He never missed a beat.
Chatting yakitee, yakitee, ya-a-kitee do.

But just as he moved,
Almost away from where I could see,
He must have got distracted,
As he ran straight into a tree!
No longer chatting yakitee, yakitee, ya-a-kitee-do.

I suppose, on further reflection, that I shouldn't be so hard on my peripatetic phoner. At least he was out running versus perfecting his touch-tone calling abilities in a more sedentary place. Runners are different and perhaps it's more--to each their phone.

But if I ever see someone running with a headset and a hands- free phone while inputting info on a mini computerized fitness planner, well, then I'll know one thing. That person is a heck of a lot more coordinated than I'll ever be.