They weren’t going to wait for me—so I ran. As soon as I spotted them, I sprinted 10, 20, 30 yards just to ask if I could take their portrait. I had to move fast, or they’d vanish in a flash—off to their next delivery. Sometimes I got lucky, catching them just as they were about to lock their bikes to parking meters. These messengers pedaled for a living, zipping through the city’s chaos to deliver all kinds of items for courier companies. In the summer of 1987, I managed to capture a glimpse of the thousands of bicycle messengers who raced through the city on their busy runs.