I have always been, what some might refer to as, a thicc boi; I have 19 years soccer experience to thank for that. Unfortunately, I am now 33–and I have not worked out since pre-Covid.
Fast forward to this week. I am back in the gym and my thighs are clapping hard enough to signal all of Thundera to combat (circa 1985, not 2011).
Holy birthday cake, Batman: the chaffing.
Am I to forsake my boxer briefs and doomed to forever don athletic sliders? Can I utilize Vaseline in hopes of squelching the dying breath of William Wallace (Gibson, 1995, 02:44:10) reverberating from my shorts? Would the application of such near my netherbits scorn me as I have felt from the likes of Icy Hot, Bengay (schwing), and Tiger Balm?
Tune in next week.
1 comment
Gold bond is your friend.
Also, look into B3NTH brand boxers. They ain’t cheap, but they’re amazing.