"I came out for exercise, gentle exercise, and to notice the scenery and to botanise. And no sooner do I get on that accursed machine than I go hammer and tongs; I never look to right or left, never notice a flower, never see a view—get hot, juicy, red—like grilled chop. Get me on that machine and I have to go. I go scorching along the road, and cursing aloud at myself for doing it."

H.G. Wells, The Wheels of Chance