Since I started running last year, I've gradually lost some weight.
Oddly enough, it was never my target.
My target was to finish the runs.
Also, more importantly, I desperately needed the endorphins in my system.
Whenever I exercise, it's 100% guaranteed that the 'dark monsters' don't follow me.
They're very lazy in that sense.

Of course, the weight loss effect was very flattering.
People around me kept enquiring 'how I did it'.
They were more keen to know if I had swallowed any pills or formulas.
Their interest immediately disappear when I mention the word 'exercise'.
The expression 'like I hadn't heard that before' was clearly on their face.

There is one issue bothering me.
My clothes.
I need to replace them.
And it saddens me because strangely, I have affections for them.
Read this -my-big-clothes-my-good-friends
And this

I really can't give them away.
They have served me so well, when I needed them most.
I'll store them nicely.
After all, statistically speaking, a relapse is very very likely. ( my medication will increase)
The weight gain will return.
And these 'good friends' of mine shall be with me again, through it all.