- Get on the treadmill (or equivalent exercise) daily
- Pace is fine at 30 min/mile, although I may up it on occasion
- Time range between 30 minutes and 1 hour per day
- Distance 1-2 miles per day
- Read the chosen book, which I won’t allow myself to read outside of my treadmill time, hopefully motivating me to reach or exceed the above goals (exception…at the end of the week where a book is highlighted, I will finish it off-treadmill so I can feature something new the next week)
Week 125: April 14, 2019 – April 20, 2019
|Sunday||30 min/mile||30:12 min:sec||1 mile|
|Monday||30 min/mile||31:09 min:sec||1 mile|
|Tuesday||Yard Work||2 hours||Dunno|
|Wednesday||30 min/mile||32:41 min:sec||1 mile|
|Thursday||30 min/mile||31:26 min:sec||1 mile|
|Saturday||30 min/mile||30:07 min:sec||1 mile|
What I’m Reading
Note: Although I will try to avoid them, my weekly reading snippets may or may not contain spoilers, so read at your own risk.
What I #amreading: Darkness Dawns by Zakarrie Clarke ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
Darkness Dawns is a love story. It also tells the tale of one man’s war with himself, brought onto the battlefield of his blindness. Leo Ferrar suffers from diabetic retinopathy and lost his sight two years ago. Unable to bear the scrutiny of strangers or the impact of his blindness on those he loves, Leo has determined on shutting the world out ever since. This is the man Ben meets on his first day at work as Mr Ferrar’s care assistant.
A former heroin addict, Ben was sentenced to six months community service as punishment for his crimes by a judge entitled to condemn him to a seven-year stretch. Far too charming for his own welfare, Ben soon proves unaccountably brilliant at ‘bulldozing the blind’.
When fate sees fit to dispatch Ben to the home of the man he has internally dubbed Mr Ferrarcious; it is with the words of the last five unfortunates who’d dared darken Leo’s doorway ringing in his ears.
A door that is opened by a man who might be Lord Byron himself. Drop dead gorgeous and as hot as hell, Leo Ferrar has the most beautiful eyes Ben has ever seen.
Never has an irony seemed so cruel. Nor fate so fortuitous.
My favorite lines this week…
✿✿ SUNDAY ✿✿
Life was now an endless loop of nothingness and numbers in a relentless onslaught of darkness. Its soundtrack issued instructions or imparted information in benumbing monotones, even the bloody clock. It was uncannily akin to being addressed by a Dalek; Leo couldn’t help but hope that it might, one day, declare that it was time to exterminate him.
✿✿ MONDAY ✿✿
“Have you lifted the back of hand to your brow, by any chance?” Leo found himself grinning, despite th fact he ws about to catch salmonella.
“Damn cheek. Are you implying that I’m a drama queen, Mr Ferrar? When you’ve quite finished besmirching my am-dram attempts, will you walk forwards a couple of steps and turn to your right?”
“Was a ‘yes’ implicit in there, somewhere?” Leo smirked while doing as he was bid.
✿✿ TUESDAY ✿✿ (Yard work day, but I read anyway 😁)
“I always wish that about my favourite DJs and talk show presenters. I become absolutely convinced I know what they look like. I doubt I’ve ever been right though. Not once. Sometimes they turn out sooo not the image in my head, I can never hear them quite the same again. It’s like smelling chocolate but getting a mouthful of cheese.”
✿✿ WEDNESDAY ✿✿
Ben. For the first time in tow years, Leo didn’t know what the hell was going to happen on the next page, or even in the next paragraph. Sentence. A fact so exhilarating it felt as if fortune had favoured him with a bottle of very fine cognac. Except Leo couldn’t begin to convince himself that even its fiery warmth could account for the plot twist in his pants.
✿✿ THURSDAY ✿✿
I would have been an excellent turn of events when Leo found himself flat on his back on the sofa, if it were not for the fact he must look a fright; ratty hair and tatty old sweats…with bean juice undoubtedly dribbled down his front. Irresistible.
✿✿ FRIDAY ✿✿ (Mowed, but I read anyway 😁)
Tomorrow…he murmurred like a mantra on his solitary stroll home. A word that inevitably segued into a bit of a singalong that soon saw him warbling ‘…is only a day away…’ with nary a care about caterwauling in the street. Not a jot like a drunk staggering home from the pub, as Ben retraced their footsteps from a few hours and forever ago…
✿✿ SATURDAY ✿✿
Ben didn’t want to shatter the silence, but more than that, he wanted Leo to speak first; it felt important somehow. A part of Ben feared they might well be lying like lemons, for quite some time, while the rest of him argued that this wouldn’t exactly be the most tragic turn of events, on the whole.