No Good Deed Goes Unpunished!

        About 7 years ago, I signed up with my entire family for a March of Dimes walk because my nephew Jack was born prematurely. I’d lay down my life for that boy if the time came so the least I could do was help raise some money to support the cause. It was an 8 mile walk……it’s WALKING, “how bad can it be right?” This is pretty much what went through my head over and over. I got my walking sneakers on, my shirt with our team’s logo on it…….and my husband’s wind pants. Yep, I was big enough at the time to fit in his pants….they were really nice with the mesh lining and the oh-so-lovely sound of the “whoosh” as you took each step. Music to my ears! I was getting out, supporting a cause and getting some much needed exercise in the meantime. I was feeling GOOD!
I’m going to say it was at about mile three when it started…..the stinging…the rubbing…..oh dear God…no, please no…I still have 5 more miles to go…………….you guessed it folks……. CHAFAGE! What the fuck kind of pants were these???? This mesh lining, which felt so good when I first put the pants on, were now my arch enemy. Sure, sure my big thighs played a role in this too, but the pants…holy hell the pants! I wanted to rip them off and toss them in the street and do the rest of the walk in my grandma panties. It was terrible…. The more I walked the more I would sweat…the more I sweat, the more my things would rub these god awful wind pants. My thighs were on fire….and not in a good way ( you know when people make comments about someone that is doing awesome they say “she’s on fire!”…..ohhhhhh no….my thighs were literally burning as if someone had a lit match to them)
        I had no choice; I had to finish the walk. I am NOT a quitter…….ok, let me rephrase this…….I am not a quitter except when it comes to sports that involve big balls being chucked at my head, yoga when I passed gas in downward dog pose in college, and hide and seek when I always was the first one found because I sucked at good hiding spots. Besides this…I am not a quitter. I walked the other 5 miles wincing in pain, trying to talk to my husband to avoid thinking about it. But I did it.
When I got home…… I ripped those sons- a-bitches off and threw them at Chief and said “how the hell do you even wear these!” Pretty sure he never had the chafing issue with these pants as he wore them all the time. I got into the shower and peered down and holy momma mia…..I hadn’t seen that much swelling since the last time we drove through the Six Flags safari and pointed at the red baboon’s asses! I was in pain………I mean extreme pain. After I got out of the shower I remember throwing on another pair of granny panties and laying spread eagle on the bed and waving a magazine to fan off my nether regions. I popped some Tylenol (probably way more than necessary) and laid there in pain until I fell asleep.
        The next morning the swelling had gone down a bit and I needed to go to work. I put on yoga pants and headed to the special needs school I worked at. The more I walked as the day went on the more it was searing in pain. At one point I went to the nurses office to get Neosporin and as I pulled down my pants to apply the ointment my chaffed inner thighs were now BLEEDING! Heavens to Betsy what the fuck?! I had to ever so gently apply the ointment and then squat walk back to my classroom to tell them I had to go home. I couldn’t bear the pain any longer I could hardly even walk at this point. So I squat walked to my car (do you know what squat walking is? Here’s an explanation….. stand up….that’s right…get up out of your chair, but don’t stop reading this….keep reading…but get up while you are reading…. Now place your feet about 2-3 feet apart, bend your legs slightly….now walk)…….Yep! THIS is squat walking..and I had to do it all the way out to my car. I called my husband in tears….I said “YOU NEED TO BRING ME HOME DIAPER RASH CREAM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!!” I laid in bed again, spread eagle for about 2 hours til he got done work and brought me Desitin. Yes ladies,….Chief is such a wonderful, wonderful man that he applied that cream to my swollen, jacked up inner thighs ever so gently (because if he didn’t his face was in range where I could knee him). So anyway….moral of the story here is…………. Number one,…chafing sucks ass……..number two, I have the best husband in the world who would do anything for me, including rubbing ointment on my gross inner thigh mess, and number three, next time I do any walk for any charity, my ass is going to wear me some Spanx under my pants!