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I had the day off from work today, and with a very busy weekend fast approaching it seemed only sensible to do my long run today. There is nothing sensible, however, about running 18 miles in high humidity while wearing substandard clothing. The good news: I finished. The bad news: I am suffering from what can only be described as Extreme Boob Chafe. I know that most female runner/readers are all too familiar with the horizontal band of boob chafe which circles the body right at the bottom of the jog bra. I have found that, for me, certain bra combos can curtail or even eliminate this band. Today, however, in a fit of utter insanity/masochism, I wore the worst jog bra combination possible – my extra-large Nike bra paired with my el cheapo generic grey piece-o’-shit bra. Truth be told, my breasts are considerably smaller than the average Bing cherry and since that extra-large bra had nothing substantial to hold, I guess it figured (‘Cause my clothes are sentient, don’t you know?) “Why NOT ride up and down for 18 miles, eroding the shit out of this flat-chested bitch?”
The discomfort I felt while running was nothing compared to the agony I later experienced in the shower. ‘Cause boob chafe is a gross, nasty condition and it does NOT like soap. Or hot water. Or exposure to the air. And it REALLY doesn’t like to be toweled dry.
Extreme Boob Chafe is a serious disease, people, and it MUST be eradicated. It just amazes me that those morons at the World Health Organization are wasting precious time on trivial concerns like malaria and malnutrition when E.B.C. is afflicting the running community at an alarming rate. Wake up, WHO! I am a scrofulous mess, and I demand a cure, damn it.
BTW: If you are not a regular reader, but rather a pervert researcher who stumbled upon this blog after Googling “boob shower masochism”, you probably didn’t find exactly what you were anticipating here. So sue me.
