The day I became like Samson

Ok, kind of. As some of you may remember, Scott and I had a Super-Bowl bet. If the Packers won, he wouldn't shave for ten days. If the Steelers won, I would shave for ten days. The Packers won. Scott didn't shave. But guess what? Neither did I.

I'm not really sure why I didn't shave. I guess partly because my wife liked it (which all married men know is the only reason you need), but also because I was curious. Could I channel my inner Al Borland?

As viewers of Scott's "The B-Cast" found out last week, yes:

But the sad reality is I'm running a half-marathon in about 10 days (if this guy can do it, I can) and I need to reduce the drag. So I set out to use they trusty set of clippers I've had since college to complete my transformation into Samson. Little did I know that my beard possessed Samson-like strength (forgive the tilted camera angle):

Yes, I did have to resort to scissors. After that, the ancient clippers came thorugh. This is the after:

Hopefully my legs will perform like my beard in the upcoming race.