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The rot set in during lockdown. During those confined, halcyon, WFH, home-baked sourdough and wild-garlic pesto days, when the full-length mirror became a lot less important than the next episode of Tiger King on the widescreen telly and a 5pm bottle of service-station rosé seemed entirely reasonable (even on a Tuesday in April), a sofa-seeking man like me found himself getting a bit… lardy. My uncrunched tummy grew flabby and I
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