The plan was to read one page a day and I had been 10 pages behind schedule
(260 pages). For the past two months, work had been intense and I had also ramped
up running, each taking a big chunk of time. Interestingly, I felt neither the urgency
for keeping up nor the frustration for lacking progress on the dictionary front. I still
read and enjoyed everyday what I could.

Another problem started to bother me, however, as the words I read I quickly forgot.
The word "bong," for example, rang no bell when Tim quizzed me when we were on
a hike. Maybe too many new words had simply exceeded the capacity of my brain.
On the other hand, I found myself not even working hard on holding onto them.

For example, on page 249, I came to the definition of the word burn. As a noun,
its first two senses are
        1. An injury produced by fire, heat, radiation, electricity, or a
        caustic agent. 2. A burned place or area: a cigarette burn in the
        tablecloth.

As I was writing them down, I was not actively reminding myself that these were
the meanings of burn. Instead, my attention turned away from the word and
focused exclusively on the definition of the moment. For the above, these were
some of the things that went through my mind, one after another,

        1. "produced" could be changed into "created" or "made" but the last one
           might not be formal enough for a dictionary entry.
        2. "caustic agent" could be some strong acid, one of those I learnt about
           so well in chemistry classes but never used outside of them.
        3. I made a mistake. I skipped the 'a' in the front of "caustic agent."
           'a' here means "any," necessary for a non-specific reference.
        4. "cigarette" was "cigar" appended with "-ette" to mean a small cigar.
        
And on the second definition of the phrasal verb "burn up," "To travel over or
through at high speed," I was wondering "Why 'speed' instead 'speeds' or 'a
speed'?" and "Is this a mistake?"

As a result of this interactive process, before finishing an entry, I often forgot
what it was about. Depending on the day, some words did make a lasting
impression, especially those I could relate to in daily life: Buganville, boxwood,
and thistle, e.g. But the majority seemed to slip away.
        
I have to ask, then, what is the benefit of all the work, if I cannot retain
most of what I have learnt? I do not know.
           
As I scan a sentence on the dictionary page, turn to the sheet of paper in front
of me, try to write down what I remember, and glance again to verify, the
dictionary silently but firmly validates or rejects even the tiniest mistakes
down to spelling and punctuation marks. This input-and-feedback loop itself
might be valuable, as over many cycles, correct expressions and usage can become
a habit, just like training strength and endurance. 

Would it be worth it? I don't know the answer either.

If it is vain to want to speak good English and it is unattainable through
reading a dictionary, at least the practice has been enjoyable as it satisfies
my curiosity as an explorer. If that is all I will get out of this experience,
it is good enough.