TREADMILL Week 192 & What I #AmReading – Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

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 192: July 26, 2020 – August 1, 2020

Sunday 30 min/mile 30:30 min:sec 1 mile
Monday 30 min/mile 32:06 min:sec 1 mile
Tuesday 30 min/mile 30:30 min:sec 1 mile
Wednesday 30 min/mile 30:11 min:sec 1 mile
Thursday 30 min/mile 30:05 min:sec 1 mile
Friday 30 min/mile 30:17 min:sec 1 mile
Saturday 30 min/mile 30:30 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: Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall

Luc O’Donnell is tangentially—and reluctantly—famous. His rock star parents split when he was young, and the father he’s never met spent the next twenty years cruising in and out of rehab. Now that his dad’s making a comeback, Luc’s back in the public eye, and one compromising photo is enough to ruin everything.

To clean up his image, Luc has to find a nice, normal relationship…and Oliver Blackwood is as nice and normal as they come. He’s a barrister, an ethical vegetarian, and he’s never inspired a moment of scandal in his life. In other words: perfect boyfriend material. Unfortunately apart from being gay, single, and really, really in need of a date for a big event, Luc and Oliver have nothing in common. So they strike a deal to be publicity-friendly (fake) boyfriends until the dust has settled. Then they can go their separate ways and pretend it never happened.

But the thing about fake-dating is that it can feel a lot like real-dating. And that’s when you get used to someone. Start falling for them. Don’t ever want to let them go.

My favorite lines this week…

✿✿ SUNDAY ✿✿

“Someone else’s actions may affect you. But what other people choose to do is about them.”

We were both quiet for a moment.. “Will it…will it ever stop hurting?”

“Non.” Mum shook her head. “But it will stop mattering.”

✿✿ MONDAY ✿✿

“He’s not hopeless. He’s an uptight git. Um, like in general. Not because he was bothered by me nonconsensually kissing him. Okay, let me rephrase: he’s an uptight git who, independent of his uptightness and gititude, isn’t into me.”


Out of nowhere, I was laughing. “I can’t believe I’m pretending to date someone who just used the phrase ‘precisely what half-arsing entails.'”

“Would you believe me if I said I did it deliberately for your amusement?”


I celebrated and/or consoled myself with a terrifyingly good chocolate caramel brownie. Like, seriously. Better than a real—I mean nonvegan—chocolate caramel brownie. My working theory as that getting a dessert from a vegan restaurant was like having sex with someone less attractive than you—they knew it was a tough sell, so they tried harder.


He kissed me. And it was the most Oliver kiss, his hands cupping my face gently to draw me to him, and his lips covering mine with a deliberate care that was its own kind of passion. The way you’d eat a really expensive chocolate, savouring it because you knew you might never get another. He smelled of familiarity, of homecoming, and of the night I’d spent wrapped in his arms. And he made me feel so fucking precious I wasn’t sure I could bear it.

✿✿ FRIDAY ✿✿

In an effort to balance the scales, I returned the favour and realised I’d made a tremendous strategic error. Because while I got by on genetics, height, and walking to work, Oliver bothered to take care of himself. It was the sexual equivalent of someone getting you a really thoughtful secret Santa gift when you knew you’d bought them a bath bomb.


Surprisingly, my flat was still in pretty good nick. Obviously, not “cleaned all the things” level pristine, but also not a “what the hell is wrong with you” cesspit. It helped that Oliver had stayed over a couple of times and seemed to tidy as he went like some kind of human Roomba. Although I suppose thinking about it, a human Roomba is just a person with a vacuum cleaner.

Once again, so many highlights, so difficult to choose which to feature each day.

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