14 April 2012
The man pushed on, pumping each leg down with as much force as he could muster.
How many miles was this now? When will this hill end?
No end in sight, must be round this next bend. With thighs burning and lungs bursting the crest of the hill came into view and with it came a beautiful vista of fields, trees and uninterrupted rural idyll. A smile crossed his face, partly of achievement and partly in anticipation of the descent to follow.
Cycling • Opuss № I