As I stepped out of the shower today I looked in the mirror to admire my four-pack. 

Yes, four-pack.  I saw it for a change. 

Usually it’s covered by what used to be piles of pasta, insane amounts of ice cream, or bowls of buffet.

Don’t laugh.  It’s the best it gets at this point: “The food I want or fitness?”

My occasional four-pack used to be a six-pack. And, when I was a skinny kid it was probably an eight-pack, but as Will Ferrell tweeted recently a six-pack on a skinny kid doesn’t really count; it didn’t take any effort.