A Test of Magnetic Will

A fresh morning demands fuel, not idle resting. I marched straight into the kitchen, drawn by a fallen prize: a thick, rubberized refrigerator magnet shaped like a bronze wrestling belt, lying flat against the smooth ceramic tiles. It belonged aloft. I planted my boots firmly on the slick grout line, locked both hands around its grooved edge, and hauled backward with total focus. The rubber resisted, sticking against the cool glaze, but my grip held ironclad. With a sharp jerk, I tore it free, hoisting it high above my head like a hard-won trophy before propping it triumphantly against the refrigerator base.#THIS IS RANDY ORTON