Don’t let it rub you the wrong way

We all have our personal stories about it. The blood. The pain. The agony. But when did you discover the reality of chafing?

Landon was the first person to tell me about bloody nipples. And like most people, I giggled. I didn’t get the chafe, however, until my first summertime ten-miler last year. In fact, I still have scars. My sports bra left a ring around my chest. My ill-chosen t-shirt left chafe seams all over my arms. Don’t even get me started on the tag at the back of my shorts.

Excuse me while I cringe.

You can imagine these things are weighing heavily in my mind as I prepare for the Akron Marathon on Sept. 28. It’s a little over a month away, and all I can think about is where I can buy Aquaphor and Body Glide in bulk. Maybe I can put it in a camelback for the run.

Who would have thought wardrobe would be such a big deal on race day?

Well, the bigger deal right now is building my mileage. After putting swim/cycle on hold until October, I finally broke my 10-miles-a-week pattern last week. I was raring toward 30-40 miles when I had another incident with the sidewalk that dorked up my left knee. Again. (Yes, please call my Iron Clutz from now on.)

I didn’t let it slow me too much (I missed the Bellefaire JCB Biathlon last weekend because I couldn’t bend my sticky scabbed knee enough to ride my bike, but went to cheer on JG who debuted his new roadie with a PR), even if I was stiff for the first couple days.

I hit the trails with Salty last week—managing not to fall despite staring almost exclusively at the rooty ground—and ran an 11-miler up, up and up the Heights on that 95-degree Thursday. I’m pretty positive about being able to build my distance in time for Akron, but I’ve arrived at one major problem: shoes.

Yes, another wardrobe malfunction.

See, I have two relevant pairs of running shoes. My first pair of Mizuno I bought about a year ago; my second pair of Mizuno I bought in February.

The first pair is obviously pretty shot. They have about six miles in them before soreness sets in.

The second has what I can the 13-mile ouchies. They feel great until about 13 miles when I can feel running’s impact in my ankles and arches, which moves up to my knees closer to 16-17 miles, which I imagine only gets better from there.

So, I’ve been training in the old shoes, “preserving” the second pair for Akron. Silly, isn’t it? Perhaps I’ll wear them both at the marathon—one pair for the first six, the other for 13 and barefoot that glorious last leg.

It was halfway through last week’s hilly 11-miler that I realized my tweener state of shoes. A month out I thought I could buy a new pair, but my last shoes took more than four months to break in. And my first marathon isn’t the place to try it.

Oh, lord, imagine the chafeage! Maybe it's just time to invest in Body Glide: I'll need plenty of it.