Harry stared at his belly in the gym locker room mirror. God, I'm fat, he thought. He wondered what people would think of him when he walked into the gym area. He should have brought sweats. This T-shirt was less than flattering.
He didn't know if this attempt at weight loss would take. It was the next one in a succession of many. They weren't all failures. He lost ten pounds on the vegan diet, but he couldn't take the blandness and gave up. He gained back the ten soon after the initial transgression of visiting a Wendy's.
Harry's goal was to lose fifteen this time. It was modest, considering that he would need to lose thirty more to truly fall out of the obese range. But he was tired of feeling like dirt, tired of feeling guilty after having an ice cream, tired of being ignored by women, tired of needing to catch his breath after a flight of stairs.
Harry exhaled and walked out of the locker room and into the gym. Somewhere in that expanse of exercise equipment was a treadmill with his name on it.
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