Treadmill Goals/Tracking
- 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. I’m officially modifying my original rule of not reading the book-of-the-week off-treadmill. I’m usually going to look at length and try to divide it up somewhat evenly per day, even if that means either closing that book early (if it’s short) or continuing after (if it’s long).
Week 155: November 10, 2019 – November 16, 2019
| DAY | PACE | TIME | DISTANCE |
| Sunday | 30 min/mile | 34:22 min:sec | 1.1 miles |
| Monday | 30 min/mile | 30:46 min:sec | 1 mile |
| Tuesday | 30 min/mile | 30:47 min:sec | 1 mile |
| Wednesday | 30 min/mile | 30:21 min:sec | 1 mile |
| Thursday | 30 min/mile | 32:44 min:sec | 1 mile |
| Friday | 30 min/mile | 30:49 min:sec | 1 mile |
| Saturday | Blew Leaves & Mulch-Mowed | 1-1/2 hrs | Front & Back Yards |
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: Counter Culture by JL Merrow
Customer service has never been this personal.
Robin Christopher, beleaguered retail worker, isn’t having an easy November. His boss is raising stress levels planning a Black Friday to end all Black Fridays, his family doesn’t understand him, and his best friend thinks his new crush is a hallucination brought on by watching too many episodes of Doctor Who.
Archie Levine dresses in Victorian style and divides his time between caring for his young son and creating weird and wacky steampunk gadgets from bits of old junk—when he’s not looking after his mum and trying to keep on good terms with his ex. The last thing he’s got time for is a relationship, but the flustered young man he met while disembowelling a fridge is proving very tempting.
When his mum’s social conscience is roused by a local store with a cavalier attitude to the homeless, former rough sleeper Archie shares her anger. Little does he know that Robin works for that same store. When Archie finds out he’s sleeping with the enemy, things could cut up very rough indeed.
My favorite lines this week…
✿✿ SUNDAY ✿✿ Robin’s POV
“The…Tell you what, don’t explain it. Leave it part of Mystery Bloke’s essential mysteriosity.”
“You mean ‘mystique?”
“You know, I always wondered why you spent three years at uni. It was so you could flounce around being all superior and correcting people’s grammar, wasn’t it?”
“Uh, I think you mean vocabulary.”
“I think I mean fuck you. So what did he look like, your mystery man?”
✿✿ MONDAY ✿✿ Robin’s POV
Azrah gave a sly smile. “Was it Doctor Who again? Robin met him last night,” she added to Heath.
“Maybe. I didn’t get the chance to have a good look, did I? Thanks to you two.” Robin glared at her. “Anyway, I said he reminded me of Doctor Who. Not that he was Doctor Who. Who doesn’t exist, by the way. And is also a woman right now.”
Heath stared dreamily into the middle distance. “Ah, she’s another strong woman, that one. Knows what she’s doing with a welding torch.”
“Okay, I’m going to have nightmares about your sex life tonight.” Robin took a thoughtful sip of his rum and Coke.
✿✿ TUESDAY ✿✿ Robin’s POV
The morning’s coffee churned in Robin’s stomach like an alien parasite about to make an explosive exit through his abdomen. Robin half wished it would. At least it’d put that godawful sweater out of his misery. Apart from it’s unfortunate looks, Robin was way too hot in it and the label appeared to have been made out of barbed wire. He rubbed his neck trying to soothe it.
✿✿ WEDNESDAY ✿✿ Archie’s POV
Bridge laughed. “Right, next time they need cakes for the toddler group I’ll get you and him on the job. S’pose I’d better get him back home now.” Despite her words, she dropped onto the sofa with an Oof and did a spot-on impersonation of someone who wasn’t planning on moving for a good long while.
“Cup of tea first?” Archie offered.
✿✿ THURSDAY ✿✿ Robin’s POV
When he got home, skull miraculously intact, Robin glanced in the mirror. Huh. Mum’s sweater did make him look a lot like an earnest sixth-former. He pulled it off. Yep, back to midtwenties Robin, although with a suspicion of backwards passage through hedges. He put the sweater on again, and was immediately troubled with a sense of maths homework not satisfactorily completed.
Uncanny.
✿✿ FRIDAY ✿✿ Archie’s POV
“Thank you! Ooh, don’t get that one, love,” Lyddie added to a middle-aged man waiting in line with a box of top-brand perfume whose name Archie vaguely recognized. “My grannie used to wear it. Made her smell like a horse’s arse. After it’d been eating flowers, mind, but still. Horse’s arse. Try the one in the shocking pink wrap, that’s much nicer.”
✿✿ SATURDAY ✿✿ Robin’s POV
“That’s a wig?” If Azrah’s eyebrows flew any higher, they could have a nifty sideline delivering Amazon packages.