The Tread-Desk Diaries, Day 9
Miles walked – 7.3
Speed – 2.2
Incline – 3%
Total miles – 43.8
OK, so I bumped my mileage goal up toe six a day this week, and I’ve been cracking seven the last couple of days. Here’s the thing. My daughter’s home, and she’s a delicate little princess who can’t stand the thermostat being down at 65, so she keeps turning it up to, I dunno, 80 or something. So I’m getting sweatier, which, aside from some additional laundry, would be no big deal.
Except for this. As the clothes absorb the sweat, they start to bunch up and such in some, eh, sensitive areas. And that leads to the “C” word – chafing. Once you get a good chafe going, you can kiss walkies goodbye.
A few ways to address this problem. First, avoid cotton – that whole “cotton is rotten” thing, ask any runner type, and they’ll wax poetic about it for a bit. Seems cotton absorbs sweat and just holds it there against your tender little dermis instead of wicking it away to join the atmosphere. Problem is, try finding some undies that ain’t cotton, without paying through the nose for them.
OK, you could always go commando, but usually I wear jeans, so still cotton, but now cotton that’s sort of abrasive to begin with, and that’s before I get a good ass-sweat going.
The solution? What I learned on the Twitters are called “lounge pants.” Near as I can tell, it’s just a fancy name for PJ bottoms. Nice fleecy things, soft enough that the boys can play in their unchaperoned, and they don’t get too wet and sticky. Problem is, I’m gonna have to either wash them every day or get a few more pairs, ’cause, round about 5pm, they do get a tad stinky.
TMI, I know. But hell. I’ve committed to blogging about this shit pretty much every day for a year solid. You signed up for TMI, so shut up.