Slow and unsteady


In a world so impressed by going fast, I am definitely a tortoise in hare’s clothing. Even though I weigh more than most of the All Blacks, without the substantial muscle mass, I think that I should be able to muster the speed of someone sized more like an Olympic track cyclist. Instead of realising that when I heft myself up hill, that I’m doing the equivalent of hiking with two fully laden suit cases. Continue reading “Slow and unsteady”