It Feels Like I’m Going Commando
Today at the age of 40, I had a whole new experience - having my legs shaved.
Like in the above picture, I had it done at a local barbers - The Barbers2, which one of my clients in Newbiggin-by-the Sea . Edwina (yes, she’s a lady barber) had agreed to help me out with a bit of a PR stunt to promote my Macmillan Cancer Support fundraising . So we arranged for the PR company who does all the publicity for my office to come along, take some photos, and interview us.
To make it more newsworthy though, I was having my legs shaved with a cutthroat razor.
Believe me, you’ve not lived until you’ve had someone wielding one of these around the top of your thighs, while you’re both trying to conduct an interview, smile at the camera, and keep the hysteria at bay.
I know my legs’ll need doing again for race day (19 days…), but there was method in my madness in doing this today - I wanted the press interest in the crazy cutthroat razor photos, and to allow enough time for any nicks to heal up. Good job too - with no padding on my legs to smooth out the contours (think: calf muscles like Lance Armstrong’s, but with freckles & no tan), I did end up with a couple of cuts.
Proper cyclists (like the guy pictured, right - btw: nice tan lines !) will claim that they shave for aerodynamic advantage, or because road rash heals better when there aren’t any hairs involved. I have two, much more honest reasons:
- The PR angle - looking for coverage in the local papers
- With my pale, pale skin, I need to apply sunblock on race day without just slathering my leg hairs in the gunk, and once again turning myself into the human fly paper
Having now experienced this, I now have a whole lot more admiration for women who go through this sort of thing on a regular basis. I’ve also discovered that walking around with a pair of jeans over my shaved pins feels completely strange. It’s like having a guilty little secret that I can smile about - almost as if I’m going commando to a job interview.
So wrong and yet so right…