I walked through the door with somewhat recklass abandon. My hair was still ponied up and full of post run sweat. I pulled out the ponytail holder and clips and let the thick bundle of hair unravel onto my shoulders.
When my whole life seems to be in constant flux, my hair has remained the same. I should probably be happy with this thought but somewhere between my door and the salon chair I generated the urge for more than the usual trim and thin. I wasn’t, however, sure what I wanted.
It was a little blunt and morbid the way I said it. “Tom liked my hair long, but he isn’t around anymore,” I said, “so that doesn’t matter much anymore. Does it?” I could see that it caught my hair dresser, Bonnie, off guard. She let the conditioner soak and walked away to see off her last customer.
When Bonnie came back, she had an idea. We decided that the worst thing that could happen was that I would hate it. If that was the case, my hair would grow. I watched as she picked up the razor blade device and began her work.
My hair began tumbling down the drape and onto the floor. I joked a bit with Bonnie asking, “Will it make me more aerodynamic?” She smiled and said, “I don’t know.” I laughed, telling her that the change in weight alone would likely make a huge difference. Indeed, I was light-headed when she’d finished her cutting.
I was in a bit of shock too, but it was too late to go back. The blow dryer began whirling and I was comforted by the feeling of my hair being touched as she smoothed it out. There was more human touch as my hair was ironed flat. It was like my nerves were being ironed smooth.
I was at last relaxed when the process was finally complete. I like it – I think. I’m really not completely sure what I think of it. It’s weird having my hair falling on my face. It will be interesting to see what I have to do with it when I run. I don’t have much of a ponytail left. Certainly, the real test will be when I have to style it myself.
Enjoy the picture as it may never look this way again.