I have found myself in a bit of a quandary as of late. A quandary that would confound the wisest of Egyptian kings. Sit back, relax and allow me to detail my vexing botheration.
Given the fact that after my pooping of the pants story and the fact that I really have nothing to hide anymore, I feel comfortable sharing this conundrum with my closest friends and closest strangers.
Approximately 6 months ago I began to jog without support. I mean, I was supported, but at the same time I wasn’t. Let me put it this way - I was without undergarments during my runs. I decided to go without the tighties for one reason alone: the chafing. The chafing was unbearable. All that sweat coupled with a dark humid place made for an infestation of chafes so raw, so red, one might compare it to the underside of Santa’s belly roll.
Once I freed myself from the confining grasp of underwear, I felt as though the chains had been removed. (Metaphorically of course... I did not actually have chains in my underwear. Chafing would have been the least of my worries.) I felt as though I could fly. The 'man' could no longer hold me down. I was a fluttering butterfly, but without butterfly underwear, or once again, chains.
I now realize that running without my under-britches may be a warm weather luxury. I generally run after the sun goes down and lately, during my final mile, I feel as though I may become frost bitten in the unmentionable areas. Wearing skivvies during my daily jog would certainly solve this problem. The goods become so frigid and painful down there that I am often forced to "hold" things, which becomes a bit embarrassing while running down 5600 South.
So the question becomes - frostbite or bloody chafing? I leave the topic on the table for the forum to discuss.