Amusing bit in the Sunday Times about “sightjogging,” or running around Rome with a super-hot
guidefox who can race your ass off while talking at length in an unhurried way about the sights and
history of the city. Author Matt Rudd falls into the macho trap of overextending himself despite his
foreknowledge that he might feel forced to go that way, but even so, he’s nearly killed both by his
escalating pulse (visible to the guidefox on his wrist monitor) and by homicidal Roman drivers. All
good fun, and Rudd makes it back to his hotel collapsing or soiling himself. Beats a Segway, I
suppose.
Amusing bit in the Sunday Times about “sightjogging,” or running around Rome with a super-hot
guidefox who can race your ass off while talking at length in an unhurried way about the sights and
history of the city. Author Matt Rudd falls into the macho trap of overextending himself despite his
foreknowledge that he might feel forced to go that way, but even so, he’s nearly killed both by his
escalating pulse (visible to the guidefox on his wrist monitor) and by homicidal Roman drivers. All
good fun, and Rudd makes it back to his hotel collapsing or soiling himself. Beats a Segway, I
suppose.