HEAVY CONFESSIONS – The Furnace Runs Hot

Without any doubt, there are a number of things us big guys are good at.  Even if you’re not a, “Guy of Girth,” you have to give us props for being proficient at the following:
 

1. Lifting heavy weight.
2. Moving everyone we know in or out of their current house.
3. Eating. And lots of it.
4. Sweating. And lots of it.

There’s no hiding it, boys – the furnace runs hot.  The list of side effects is extensive: sweat stains, the ability to make any form of paper into a fan, cracking a window in the dead of winter, the trickles of perspiration down your back.  This is when a girthy guy’s best friend becomes good ol’ Mr. Speed Stick (he is a close relative of Little Debbie, who likes to hang out with her friends Hostess and that rowdy Otis). 

I’ll never forget the day I forgot to pack my deodorant in my gym bag … it was a rough morning. (*insert dreamy harp music that makes you think we’re traveling back in time to younger and more svelte Daniel McKim).

I had just finished my shower and glanced at the clock to see my precious prep time waning (it takes work to look this good, people).  I rummaged through my gym bag and threw out my shoes, socks, boxers (not briefs), undershirt, watch, ID, wallet, and cell phone.  After a brief inventory, I realized I was missing something – deodorant.  I knew I had put it in my bag the night before, but it was gone!  There was no going back home, now, as I had a solid 45 minute commute and couldn’t be late for work.

I frantically pilfered through my bag, but realizing my efforts were in vain, I scoured for something, anything, that might work.  Finally, I came across a small spray bottle.  Biofreeze.  This great concoction works much like Icy Hot or Ben Gay, and is made for loosening tight muscles.  A few spritzes in the pits and I was on my way to work.  I thought nothing of it.  Sure, I smelled like a medicine cabinet or an 86 year old mall-walker, but it was better than the alternative. 

I soon found out how sensitive the underarm skin is.  A warm, burning sensation filled my shirt and, the more I moved, the more heat that rose.  I tried walking like a toy soldier as I walked to my car.  I even tried to elevate my elbows as I drove to work.  45 minutes.  A cranked A/C, deep breaths and cheerful songs became my only remedy.  I arrived to work in a menthol-induced haze and reached in the back seat to grab something I never forget – lunch.  And lo, what did my eyes see but Mr. Speed Stick, who had tumbled out of my bag!  Relief was mine!  (*insert more of that dreamy harp music that lets you know we are going back to the present).
 

Guys of Girth: Don’t be ashamed of your furnace.  It burns hot and true, so let it do its work!  There’s no use in trying to hide the massive sweat rings in your underarms – everyone can see it.  You can try undershirts, double coats of anti-perspirant, and even clinical-grade Mitchum … it ain’t gonna work.  My only advice is to avoid grays, light blues or pastels in general (okay, if let’s admit it, you’ve never been able to pull off the pastel look, anyways).  Shirts in the color scheme of black, white or any dark solids are your friends.  And, while kerchiefs haven’t been in style for a few decades, there’s a reason pastors use them to dab their brow – they work.  Plus, whose stupid enough to give you grief for pulling one out of your back pocket? 

People of Less Girth: Know that we are fully aware of the massive sweat stain on our shirt.  When you’re speaking with us, maintain eye contact.  We’re watching every flit of your eyes to see if you start gawking at our shirts.  If you choose to do that, I can’t be held responsible for what that large fellow will say or do in response. Your best bet is to compliment him on his nice shirt and slowly walk away.  If you say something to the effect of, “Hey Guy, you put gel in your hair!” you may get punched in the face for drawing attention to his sweaty sideburns.  I warned you.  Our furnace runs hot, but sometimes so does our temper.