Regular readers of my blog will know that I avoid non-fiction at all costs. I’m not sure why. I can’t recall any incidents of childhood trauma which could have resulted in my aversion. It’s possibly as simple as the fact that I read to ‘escape’ which means there’s no place for reality on my bookshelves. Perhaps therapy would help.
I wrote a post while away at Christmas about the fact that I was pleasantly surprised to discover I’d ‘changed’ without really realising it was happening. It seemed I’d become more zen, despite the lack of lightbulb moment signifying the transformation.
As planned I had my first session with a local personal trainer last week. Dave knows I can’t afford to buy stacks of PT sessions, but we’ve worked out a plan that (for a month or two anyway), will see me having a one-on-one session each week and attending two of the small group circuit classes he runs.
When Jeff Cowan’s body is found in his bankrupt family’s former mansion, the police rule his death a homicide. His ex-wife Riley, however believes Jeff was murdered because he was attempting to track down missing money his imprisoned father swindled out of thousands of innocent people and looking into the suspicious deaths of several associates.
Not realising her own life will be at risk, Riley removes evidence to ensure the safety of Jeff’s mother and sister. These actions result in her crossing paths with Finn Bradley – seconded to the FBI to help recover the Cowan family’s missing fortune.
I was supposed to return to my exercise classes today.
Regular readers may recall I’d finally started doing some exercise a month or two ago – just a couple of circuit classes a week – but it was better than nothing. And after just a half a dozen classes they almost felt as if they’d become part of my routine – a good thing in my book, if one is to sustain any sort of exercise regime. And when I had a couple of sessions off because of other commitments, I didn’t find it too hard to get back into it.