It is 8 pm the night before the race. You are getting your flat runner together. You are setting out fuel, charging your garmin, and checking to make sure your pee is light enough to be considered hydrated. Everything is is awesome except the forest that is your legs. Sure, you could shave them, OR you could find a pair of race legs or over the calf compression socks, and then go back to that young adult novel about the werewolves (not that I know. Just speculating.)
No one will know. Blonde ladies, no one is getting blinded at the mile 2 split when the sun hits your legs just right and reflects a beam of death right into their eye. Nope, the ladies over at Sparkle Athletic have you covered (see what I did there?) Patriotic race legs? Try a star spangled time saver!
Now all you have to deal with is afterwards that weird feeling of leg hair being bent in the wrong direction for a couple of hours.
The inventor of marathon socks had to be a woman.