Moob sweat

‘I’m melting’ has been a common text / Facebook status update today – and I can wholeheartedly agree with those who’ve shared it – particularly as I chose yesterday and today as my pivot point away from the garden (for a while) and back towards the open road. 

I’ve been putting in the walking miles again and today they have been hot ones. 

For all the girls out there – I feel your pain. Boob sweat is a curse and guys such as myself with moobs stand with you in solidarity today. 

I’d retreated after the first five miles into the air conditioning of a coffee shop when the above (erotically charged) photo was taken. 

I haven’t spilled a drink – I’m sweating from maintaining a heat rate of 90-110 in scorching sunshine for around 90 minutes. 

The waistband of my trousers looked much the same and thankfully a long shirt and tee shirt covered a similar embarrassment of rear cleavage moisture. 

However the west wasn’t won by staying indoors when it got a little warm – and I’m not letting the heat slow me down. 

Rather than the virtual ‘miles’ my watch thinks I walked while chopping things down in the garden, today (despite the soaring temperatures) I did ten and a half actual sticky, salty, exhausting miles along canals and up and down the hills and paths of Warwickshire. 

My clothes were so drenched and so sticky this evening when I arrived home that I put everything I was wearing immediately in the washing machine and climbed into the coldest shower my heating system would allow. 

But I felt good – for more than one reason. 

I was sitting in the park munching through lunch earlier today. It was admittedly an unconventional one. Aldi are doing two Romaine lettuces for 49p at the moment so I was eating one (along with 6 tomatoes and a red pepper with a tub of cottage cheese) like a giant green carrot when a bunch of tiny school children in high visibility vests passed with their teachers on a field trip.  

In the past they would have all pointed and said ‘look at that fat man!’

Today they all said ‘Lettuce! That man’s eating a lettuce!‘ And all of them pointed at the lettuce eater, repeating ‘lettuce!’ as they passed. 

I prefer the vegetable categorisation to being called fat – although I’m quietly also glad that they weren’t mistaking it for a cabbage – as that’s almost as bad!

As I was sitting at home in front of my large fan this evening I was thinking about this event as I flicked through the channels and noticed a programme on BBC1 called ‘supersize cabbies’

The guy on the right is Mike, although he might as well be called Davey because he was roughly the same age as me and 31stone when he started his battle to lose weight. 

Sadly his obstacles were more difficult to overcome than my own. He had the same peripheral oedema in his legs that I did, but he (unlike me) was diagnosed with heart failure during the making of the documentary and was eventually admitted to hospital with kidney failure. 

After a month in there recovering from this event he went on to lose a total of 11st during the year long period that the programme covered – which brought him to almost exactly the same 20st weight as I am now… 

I must admit there was a tear in my eye as I watched. I felt all of his pain. 

Not just the physical pain or sense of initial hopelessness that I could see in his face, but the underlying emotional damage he had inflicted upon himself. When he started to cry after losing his initial three stone I was right there with him. 

The truth is I’ve worked hard to get where I am now and it didn’t just magically happen – but I’m also a very lucky man

Somehow I’ve avoided (at least for the time being) the worst aspects of what he experienced and hopefully I never will. 

It makes boy boob sweat something completely inconsequential. 

I don’t care if I look tired or sweaty whilst out and about – in fact I’m glad if I do. Every drop of sweat equals effort put in – and it just motivates me more to go out and get soaked. 

I’ll be out doing the same again tomorrow internet and I don’t care who sees drenched Davey one little bit. 


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