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 178: April 19, 2020 – April 25, 2020
| DAY | PACE | TIME | DISTANCE |
| Sunday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:43 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Monday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:38 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Tuesday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:45 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Wednesday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:14 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Thursday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:16 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Friday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:09 min:sec | Â 1 mile |
| Saturday | Â 30 min/mile | Â 30:11 min:sec | Â 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: Job Hunt by Jackie Keswick
When Jack Horwood visits Nancarrow Mining to discuss a network security job, he doesn’t expect to run into his former CO or for Gareth Flynn to tag along when Jack goes after a pimp.
Because Jack doesn’t hunt pimps because he enjoys it. And Gareth has never been told of Jack’s past.
Jack has carried a torch for Gareth Flynn since he was seventeen, never expecting the man to notice. Can he deal with suddenly having Gareth in his life, while secrets, lies, and the consequences of a daring rescue test their forming bond?
Jack fights best alone, but this time he can’t walk away. Not from his new job. Not from the boys they’ve rescued. And not from Gareth Flynn.
Jack has wanted a second chance like people in hell want ice cream. But is it real? Will it work? And most of all… does someone like Jack even deserve to be happy?
My favorite lines this week…
âśżâśż SUNDAY âśżâśż
“What he means to say is that we both want to get the rats off the street, so we keep sweeping,” Jack explained.
“Don’t mix your metaphors. To catch rats you need a piper not a sweep.
“Not if they’re dead rats.” Jack paused on his way back upstairs to watch the detective stare at the clock for the umpteenth time. “Clive, stop fidgeting.”
âśżâśż MONDAY âśżâśż
Jack slipped into the thick pedestrian traffic, walking just a bit faster than most of the people heading to work. He had never quite understood the buzz of working a crowd, but right then, dodging and weaving around human-shaped obstacles, aware that Gareth was trying to catch up without creating an obvious scene, Jack suddenly felt insanely happy.
âśżâśż TUESDAY âśżâśż
In Gareth’s opinion, watching Jack fidget was the best Saturday night entertainment ever devised. Jack had a mind like a shunting yard and being asked to do just one thing at a time clearly confused him. Nor was he used to sitting in front of a computer he wasn’t supposed to touch.
âśżâśż WEDNESDAY âśżâśż
“Have you never wondered why there are no school reports in tha’? Rio pointed at the thick blue folder in Marston’s lap. “Jack’s a street kid.”
“He has two degrees!”
“Didn’ say he wasn’ smart. Or that he was lazy. When he was thirteen, he ordered a daily pizza delivery for the homeless shelter two streets over. Hacked a pimp’s account to pay for it. He ran that for two years, and the arse never noticed.”
âśżâśż THURSDAY âśżâśż
Gareth closed his eyes against a sudden burn and swallowed hard to dislodge the lump in his throat. He’d learned more about Jack in the last ten days than he had in the ten years before, and it scared the shit out of him.
âśżâśż FRIDAY âśżâśż
It was a measure of how screwed up his life had become that Jack was spending more time in Range Rovers these days than on his bike. Raf’s Ranger was forest green on the outside, the paint clean and the chrome polished to a high shine. The interior, by comparison, was a total mess. Notebooks and maps vied for space with camera equipment, crumpled sandwich and chocolate bar wrappers, and empty Starbucks mugs.
âśżâśż SATURDAY âśżâśż
“That’s just it. I’ve never been… needed… things. People. Especially not people. There was a time I would have killed anyone who touched my computer. Now I’d just get a new one. I travel light. Always have. I don’t need… stuff. But you…”
“That’s a bad thing?” The look in the green eyes made Gareth’s chest hurt. Made him wish for something he’d never considered before. Something longer than a few weeks. The thought didn’t even feel scary. “Is it a bad thing?”
“It’s a new thing. I… don’t know what to do with it.”