Saddle sores: the taboo every woman cyclist knows

There is a conversation in cycling that happens quietly, between two people, and almost always once it already hurts quite a lot. A qualitative study published on 3 February 2026 in Frontiers in Sports and Active Living interviewed 20 British women cyclists and found something that should surprise nobody and surprises almost everybody: all 20 had suffered saddle sores. Every single one.

What was actually studied

The participants were competitive cyclists averaging 35 years of age and nearly 12 years on the bike: three elite, seven sub-elite and ten club riders. No casual weekend riders here. The interviews lasted around 26 minutes on average and were carried out by a researcher who is also a cyclist which, given what follows, is not a minor detail.

That 100% prevalence sits above previous literature, which ranged from 39% to 89%. The most affected area was vulvar, mainly the outer labia, in 65% of cases; then thighs (40%) and buttocks (34%). Some 60% had experienced spots, boils or cysts that went on to become infected.

The first thing you lose is not training

This is the finding that struck us most. The most commonly reported impact was not stopping riding or losing fitness: it was losing the enjoyment. Three in four simply put up with the discomfort, tolerating the swelling and the stinging as part of the deal. They kept training just the same, yes, but with their mind elsewhere.

And when it got serious, it got very serious: some participants had to cut short training sessions and races, one needed a long course of antibiotics, there were cases requiring surgical drainage, and three developed permanent unilateral vulvar hypertrophy. This is not a trivial bit of chafing.

Why they appear

The cyclists pointed to a fairly recognisable mix: pressure, friction and sweat, almost always in combination. Plus a list of aggravating factors that reads like a real season: high training volumes, badly fitted shorts or saddle, the aero time-trial position, the indoor trainer at home (where you never shift position or get out of the saddle), rough surfaces, rain and your own biomechanical asymmetries.

Notice that half that list is not a problem with your body: it is a problem with your kit and your planning. If you are deep in a volume block, and a long challenge like the 300 kilometres of the Hermes Challenge means plenty of hours in the saddle, the risk rises through sheer exposure, not because you are doing anything wrong. That is where planning your season sensibly stops being abstract advice and becomes prevention.

The taboo, and the bad advice that comes with it

The most uncomfortable part of the study is not on the skin, it is in the conversations. Only 6 of the 20 had discussed it with their coach, and some deliberately avoided doing so for fear of having their training cut back. Several described poor or flatly contradictory advice from GPs, gynaecologists, mechanics and bike fitters. One of them ran into this gem:

Women do not get saddle issues; men do.

Medical advice reported in the study

The authors also flag a practical detail: most bike fitters are men and many have no specific training in female anatomy, so the hunt for the right saddle ends up being a long and expensive process of trial and error. Some 65% went about it that way, 14 of the 20 had a professional bike fit, and 95% ended up on a saddle with a cut-out or central channel. None of that is cheap, and there is the barrier for anyone who rides for love rather than for a contract.

When it stops being a nuisance and needs a doctor

The line the study draws is fairly clear. Mild chafing, swelling that settles in a couple of days and stings for a while: a nuisance, manageable. A lump that grows, heat, pus, fever or pain that stops you sitting down off the bike: that is an infection, and it will not be fixed with more cream and two days off. Nine participants tolerated the first without intervening; those who reached the second needed antibiotics or surgery.

And one domestic request: if your doctor sends you away saying women cyclists do not get this, get a second opinion. The study documents exactly that answer, and exactly how badly it ages.

What the authors are asking for

Three things, none of them a product: better education for coaches, medical staff and bike fitters in female-specific health; open conversations using correct anatomical terminology, because calling things by their name removes half the taboo on its own; and urgent research into bike geometry and the design of saddles and shorts genuinely made for women. Until that arrives, raising it in the club chat before somebody has to write off a season is free, and works surprisingly well.

If you are building towards an all-day ride, that conversation belongs on the same checklist you run through when choosing your autumn sportive, right next to the elevation profile and the feed stops.