You were quickly growing tired of your gym buddy's new one-word mantra, 'grind'. He wouldn't shut up about it, his enthusiasm relentless always preaching the same idea. He'd shout it at you whenever he spotted you, trying to get you to push your limits, never giving up. You were over it when he got you a shirt with the word on it, forcing you to wear it for the next workout.
You were surprised how good you felt in it. As you began working you felt a surge of energy, compelling you to push harder than you'd been able to before. You felt yourself losing focus as the session went on, fading into a rhythm as your muscles worked themselves. You blinked, feeling as if you had woken up to find your entire body exhausted, sweat pouring off you. You felt a sense of pride for the rest of the day, your workout on your mind the next day.
You wore that shirt again to your next workout, feeling the high, once again allowing you to push yourself to the max. It was an addiction, keeping the shirt in your gym bag to remind you of your work. You'd be famished afterward, unable to keep yourself from gorging the carbs you needed to recover.
Your body began to transform, your muscles bulging and thickening. You saw the effect of your appetite, your neck and stomach growing thick with mass, your shoulders wide. The shirt clung to your body like a second skin, highlighting all the curves and the work you put into your body.
It was like a drug, making you crave more and more, pushing your limits until you felt like you were on top of the world. You felt like you could do anything, your strength and endurance growing with each repetition. The word plastered over your chest was your motto, a daily ritual that led you to the massive body you had now.