Summer Of Broken Hearts.

chapter 8

I've been hitting the gym for about two months now. While I'm still a ways off from my fitness goals, I've managed to shed around three and a half kilos, or roughly two pounds, if my memory serves me right.

As summer approached, the days stretched longer, and there was an infectious desire among people to linger outdoors well into the evening. I couldn't blame them; I, too, found solace in strolling through the park near my house until the sun dipped below the horizon. There's something serene about that time of day, perfect for lounging on the grass with a good book. Plus, I've been relishing the opportunity to rack up extra steps on my watch and delay dinner till much later.

But as the clock inches toward eleven, I know it's time to draw the curtains if I want a decent night's sleep.

It was Friday, and this time Sara wasn't up for drinks. Not in the mood myself, I opted for a spontaneous trip to Abbey's theater, hopping on the H2 bus bound for Malahide beach. I didn't pack a change of clothes or a towel, but that didn't deter me. I stripped down to my underwear and waded into the water.

It was beyond chilly; it was downright freezing. I'm pretty sure my chest could cut glass, it was that cold. After a shivery wait, I positioned myself where the sun's rays warmed me, ensuring I wouldn't catch a chill.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged, drying off as best I could before getting dressed and heading home. En route, I marveled at the sunset, the fiery hues of red, orange, and yellow blending seamlessly with the encroaching darkness. I've always found this time of day magical; I call it the "golden hour."

Back home, I took a quick shower and pondered how to spend my Sara-less weekend. I settled on ordering pizza and indulging in a Netflix marathon.

Saturday

I woke up earlier than usual, feeling oddly well-rested for a non-working day. Following my usual routine of coffee and social media, I geared up for a forty-minute tempo run. Since incorporating suggested running workouts, I've noticed my endurance and pace improving—a promising sign, even though I'm still a ways off from my fitness peak.

In the city center, I anticipated the weekend buzz on Grafton Street, where there's always some sort of entertainment. But first, a stop at my favorite café for a latte and a browse through a book from their shelf.

Feeling adventurous, I decided on a hike in Bray. The cliff walk promises three to four hours of scenic trekking—perfect for adding more steps to my watch and shedding some extra pounds.

Sunday

I woke up feeling heavier than usual, likely from yesterday's exertions. Nevertheless, I slept like a log, a rare treat for me. Despite the fatigue, I wasn't about to skip my long run.

Post-run, I decided to take it easy, perhaps tackling some house chores that I've been neglecting during the busy week. A bit of shopping might be in order, and then I'll reassess my progress.