THERE I was, wheezing and gasping for my life, sweat dripping into my eyes, my aching arms unable to let go so I could wipe away the stinging droplets that represent the "things-have-gone-way-too-far-is-this-a-joke-got-out-of-hand?" stage in life (you know, the one that happens when unfit people suddenly do that exercise thing).And behind me was James, smiling absentmindedly like Odie from Garfield. He was practically whistling.You see, we were cycling. Up a monstrous hill. And there were people on the side of the road throwing rocks at us and stuff. Okay, not the last bit. And also, perhaps the hill was rather gentle and rolling. But I was not rolling, I was struggling with life and death.I was, by this stage, too far gone in the process of self-persuasion to care much about the tranquilising scenery around me. But I just had to. Surrounding us were fields with lazily chewing cows, calming seas lapping against white sands and hazy grasses blowing gently on the undulating dunes. And...
Would you like to comment on this article?
Sign up (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.
Subscribe now to unlock this article.
Support BusinessLIVE’s award-winning journalism for R129 per month (digital access only).
There’s never been a more important time to support independent journalism in SA. Our subscription packages now offer an ad-free experience for readers.
Cancel anytime.
Questions? Email helpdesk@businesslive.co.za or call 0860 52 52 00. Got a subscription voucher? Redeem it now.