I take off my shirt to start getting ready for bed and, like most nights, I stand in front of the mirror, looking at my body. I've lost some weight working out over the past few months, and I like looking at myself.
I run my hands over my belly, where that stubborn spare tire sits (more a bike tire now, but still), grab it and shake it a little. I imagine myself on a beach some months hence, shirtless and ripped, admired by people who probably won't actually be looking at me at all, and I unconsciously flex.
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