I went to Copenhagen to visit the ex, lovely seeing her again but was such a bad timing as my head was an origami to put it extremely mildly, one of those years I get incredibly barren from my own head.

Before I left, I made sure my weight should be about 70kg for her, she doesn’t says it, nor show it but I can just about tell she’s a tad worried, hard to tell sometime.

And now i’m fucking 64.2kg somehow managed by certain foods I’ve ate in Copenhagen, argh.


Worse thing is, I never venture below 77kg in my life.

I just ran 8.3km without stopping.

Shoelace came undone the first kilometre, didn’t mind.

Managed it in 53 minutes, not sure if it’s good or bad, I didn’t feel like I want to slow down, I didn’t feel out of breath, quite the opposite, I was calm, I didn’t want to stop but I was so malnourished that my legs has become jelly, blast that fucking legs.

Think I’m going to try and run as far as possible till my legs give up on me.