So, several weeks before the big ride a friend who cycles (FWC), Nathan, suggested via email that deep down I really wanted to lose my bet with my sponsors so I would have to shave my legs. Alas, I had to confess to him that he was probably right. Cyclists shave their legs. And even though I had ridden a great deal over the summer, the mileage and speeds did not approach the levels of those whom I consider cyclists. Another FWC, Dave L, has cracked that echelon, racing on Tuesday nights and doing 50 miles on the weekends at mad speeds.

With that confession made, I wondered, "How does one exactly go about shaving one's legs?" I actually did get a fair amount of advice on this, but since FWC Dave is constantly harping about my feminine tendencies, perhaps I just needed to get in touch with them and use my intuition.

Upon examining the terrain, however, I thought it best to pull out the clippers and then use a man's razor, the Gillette Sensor Excel, which is a stone age model compared to the 4 and 5 bladers now, but somehow still costs a small fortune to purchase cartridges for.

I will spare you the details, except to say that if shaving my face compares to mowing the postage stamp of a lawn we have in the city (which thankfully the landlord does), leg shaving is like mowing the 5 acres of my Dad's yard, and that with a push mower. And, worse, it occurred to me as I mowed...er, shaved...that here was yet another item on that long list of things by which women claim superiority by virtue of their ability to endure suffering and bother. You know, leg shaving, their cycle, childbirth, leaning in the sitting position with one's back against the wall, for whatever that's worth. Yes, yes, we men our wusses and cry babies. And, having only done one thing on the aforementioned list, and that just once, I am just fine by that.

Well, three weeks to the day today, with legs doused in Aqua Velva (no actually I had to submit to another x chromosome ritual of moisturizing so that my legs would feel less like they had been charged with static electricity), I headed off to Columbia, Missouri to do my ride.

Day 1 started out promisingly enough, as I had not ridden for 2 weeks and the road beckoned. I found out later that she was a bit of a siren, because though I did my first 50 miles at an average speed of 17.2 mph (not counting breaks), I paid for it immediately with cramps in my thighs and then my quadriceps. See, I can do cramps. NOT. I hate cramps, and so limped home for the day, gingerly going up the hills, until the last few miles when I was able to step on it a bit. Total for the day: 98.5 miles, 15.4 mph average. Despite the pain, there was some lovely scenery, and, yes, I did wear my poseur sign, to the amusement of a few.

And at the end of the day, what had happened to those nicely shaved legs. Well, it was a fairly warm day, so the effect was a bit like pig at a luau, except for the covered bits. Drum roll please...

Unless, you have cycled a hundred miles and tried to sleep in a van and then woken with the prospect of cycling many more, you will not know what it was like to try to get up on that Sunday morning. I know, I know, some of you mothers are saying, "Yeah, bud, try raising three kids and getting up every morning." Yes, we men suck. In fact, perhaps we only attempt these crazy feats just so we can relate. Can you feel the sensitivity?

Sunday, though I was dreading cramps all day long, went much better, perhaps because I slowed it way down. So much so that I was the last person to actually get on the century route. I had pretty much decided that I was going to attempt the feat of a double century much earlier that morning, but cycling is a good deal about psychology and I was not really wanting to commit too early. OK, there is another thing we're not good at, committing...er, quickly, that is.

Halfway into the century route I passed the second to last person to start it, but then promptly got lost for 3 miles. When I got back on the course, I discovered that I was now officially the last person on the route for the entire MS 150, and so had my own personal escort of a van. Well, this is all well and good if you are Lance Armstrong and riding at 30+ mph, but if you're last in an entire ride and a MAN and holding up peoples' dinners, then something must be done. So, I caught up to the man ahead of me, which was not a mammoth feat as he was 60, I think, but a very fit 60 I hasten to add. We rode a great deal of the final third of the route close to one another, until the end when I could not ride his slow and steady pace on the hills and needed to go ahead.

Then I had my own personal motorcyle escort, which is quite a bit cooler, don't you think? My escort Dave, in addition to being cool and super encouraging, also took a picture of me passing Missouri's largest Burr oak tree. The other scenery was also lovely, but I did not think those waiting would appreciate me stopping to take a couple of snaps. Nonetheless, I got the picture which is the header for my blog while still riding my bike.

At the finish, I had a nice reunion with my fellow rider Ron, and though almost every other rider had left, there were still some enthsiastic volunteers to greet us, we got a ride up the hill, and the ride director secreted us some of the volunteers' pizza.

With Sunday's lostness-enhanced total of 110 miles, my totals for the weekend were: 209.26 miles, 14.7 mph average, and an aching 14 hrs 12 mins BOB time (yeah, that's Butt-on-Bike).

The more important stat, though, is the stat that you, my sponsors, made possible. My goal was initially $700, but my final total was a whopping $1071! And for that I am very grateful, that we can together send it along with our hopes and prayers that it might speed the finding of a cure for MS.

So, thank you Leslie, Sean & Rachel, Ken & Aura, Keith & Nina, Rajiv & Preeti, George, Stan, Rich & Clara, Susie & Roy, Kathy, David, Dennis, Robin, Paula, Adi & Kel & Drew & Gracie & Jack, Julie, Rachel, Debra, Dr. Zafar and Zeena, Lizzie, Vera & Jon, Nathan & Christina, Dave & Sarah, Reva & Jack, Jenny, Mary Ellen & Mike, and Tim.

Whew! And as for the future. Well, just now I am inclined to make this my last
MS 150. Something different, perhaps, next year. But, who knows, next spring I may hear the call again. Because if this year has proven anything, it's that...

He's got legs...and he knows how to use them.

Hay Neil

Need to keep intouch. Way to ride.

Somi

Awesome job Neil! Great story - I would have recommended the Intuition razor over the stone age blade any day.

Above and beyond the call. Job well done.

Ok, so you shaved. BUT didn't the feel of freshly shaved legs in the bedsheets just feel wonderful? I love that feelin'!

And congrats on finishing, and the money you raised.

Thank you all for your kind words. I was very happy to ride.

Alas, Krista, I did not enjoy the "feel of freshly shaved legs in the bedsheets" as they still had the weird, static electricity feel to them. Then they got all prickly in short order."

Now, at some point in my future, the Good Lord willing, I think I would rather enjoy the "feel of freshly shaved legs in the bedsheets." ; ) Just not my own.

Sorry, I can't figure out a way to get in touch with you other than through this mechanism! I came across your blog by accident and was most impressed. As an MCS graduate from a different era (MCS '75), I remember your family. More recently, your postings have been interesting, moving, inspiring, humorous and everything else in between. Since you asked -- yes, you would make a nice candidate for seminary, should you decide to go. Best regards,
Jonathan Addleton
Phnom Penh, Cambodia