in which I ask very important questions about my hair

Is 32 an appropriate age to go through a midlife crisis? Because a few weeks back I was almost half way through my 32nd year and suddenly consumed with the idea that I needed to do something to make myself seem younger. Cooler. Not so mom-to-two-kids-ish. I happened to have a hair appointment that afternoon and I decided to ask my stylist to bleach my tips and dye them purple. I mean, why not? I'd never had purple hair before (Red hair that was probably a bit closer to purple than red, yes. But straight up purple? No.) and figured if not now, when?

So I asked. And she refused.

Turns out you can't go in for a cut and ask for a dye job because there just isn't time for that kind of ridiculousness. But she also refused in general saying that tips were not really what I wanted. She suggested I book another appointment and let her bleach some streaks hidden under a layer of hair which we could then color. I agreed and went back a month later for my dye job.

And again she refused.

Well, she technically only partially refused. She agreed to go ahead with bleaching some streaks but when it was time to add in some dye, she said she felt like I should really skip the dye and live with the blonde for a little bit. Then she dried my hair and handed me a mirror to check it out. I was unimpressed. Sure, the blonde was neat but it was so hidden and not what I had in mind. But you apparently can't make your hairdresser do something she doesn't want to do, so I went on my way.

I've lived with the blonde for about three weeks now and dammit I still want purple. Here's some of the blonde when you lift up the top layer (Please note my bald spot. I lost so much more hair after Pippa than I did after Truman. Thank god it's growing back)


Holy crap, that's blonde. But once that layer is down, the blonde disappears:


So let me ask you, is it worth the begging I will have to do to get my stylist to dye it purple? The blonde layer goes all the way around my head but really isn't that visible as you can see in the picture. When I run and have my hair in a ponytail I have a pretty awesome racing stripe which makes me want to wear a ponytail all the time. In this picture from a previous post, you can see that sometimes the blonde works it way out into daylight:


Do I beg or not? Is this bad idea jeans at their finest? Do I need to forget about the purple and move on with my old lady life?

I'm going to form a Bitch Face Foundation

I went to Miami over the weekend:


and came home with a series of pictures highlighting a very serious condition I suffer from called Bitch Face.

Bitch Face heading to the white party:


Bitch face wearing new aviator glasses that I'm obsessed with: 

And wearing my new favorite dress on Friday night. Perhaps this Bitch Face is because I'm mad that my legs are so white they look like opaque stockings?


Wait, you need a bitch face close up? I can do that!


Bitch face goes to the Versace Mansion:


And finally Bitch Face catches an early morning flight home:


Perhaps the only time I wasn't sporting Bitch Face was when I ordered drinks poolside or when I won a trip to Jamaica. Although I have no pictures to confirm or deny this hypothesis:

 

Seriously, how do I have any friends when I suffer from such a severe case of bitch face?

(there's a lot of this)

I spend a lot of time running. It's my time to clear my head, leave the kids behind, and (I know this sounds crazy) relax. I used to refuse to listen to music while running because it made me very aware of the amount of time that had passed (3 songs at about 3:30 each equals about 10:30 of running. Why do I feel like I'm dying if it's only been 10:30?) but lately I've abandoned the podcasts and gone back to music. (I've done this because I've also abandoned iTunes and I haven't figured out how to listen to podcasts without it. Am dumb. Very dumb.) 

This switch back to music has led me to do some stupid things while I run like randomly shouting out lyrics or going from running to doing some kind of spastic dance/run/strut move. It's really quite embarrassing and yet I continue to do it, sometimes even in busy public places like while running past Whole Foods. Or a packed bar downtown. It's really not good although it seems the drunk frat boys like laughing at me. 

And now, in case you want to make an ass of yourself too, here are a few of the songs that make me do stupid things.

Down in the Treme, just me and my baby, we're all going crazy! (insert stupid high knees step/strut thing)

FUUUUUCK!

clapclap clapclap

Not gonna lie, I sing the whole song. The. Whole. Song. 

There's plenty more that make me make an ass of myself, but I think you get the idea. Do you have any songs that really put a bit of pep (or a stupid dance move) in your step while running? Share please, I need to grow my playlist!

The Biggest Loser

"Hey Regan, how's the weight loss going? Also, weren't you doing some kind of Biggest Blogging Loser competition?"

Well friends I'm so glad you asked! (Full disclosure: we're pretending someone asked this. I doubt anyone actually remembers that I'm trying to de-fat myself.)

I was participating in an online competition to lose weight and the whole reason I joined was because I figured having to email my weight to a friend would shame me into being motivated. The competition ended Monday night and, holy crap, I won! Since January I've lost 14% of my body weight and dropped two clothing sizes.

Check it out! (highly unflattering muffin top filled picture ahead)

January 9:


April 2: (equally unflattering but not due to a muffin top, what what!)


It's funny but despite having to buy new clothes and seeing the numbers on the scale go down, I really couldn't see a difference until I went back and looked at my starting picture. If you're going to start a diet, please take a before picture. Also, make sure you have a good picture of your face. I think I've lost some weight there but it's hard for me to tell in either picture. And take your measurements!

I know I have more to lose and thanks to the win, I'm feeling pretty motivated. I'm also starting to shift my focus onto building muscle and toning which means I might not see such a rapid drop on the scale anymore, but that's okay. As long as I'm becoming less fat, I'm fine if the scale moves slowly.

Winning the competition came with a cash prize which I used to sign up for a full marathon training group. And then, because I'm a worrier, I signed up for the San Antonio marathon because holy hell, what if it sells out! (it won't) So I'll be spending the hottest part of the year running long distances and cursing myself. A smaller ass better be worth it.

zooma 2012

Remember that time I "trained" for a half marathon? Yeah, that was a good time. No, really it was such a good time that I signed up for another half marathon and swore this time I was going to train. Hell, the race even had supported training runs, it would be almost impossible for me to not train.

This, of course, means I didn't really train. I went on one long run, 9 miles, and added the other runs to my calendar but didn't actually get up for them. I had my reasons, one time it was raining and I don't run in the rain. One time jparks was out of town and I couldn't leave the kids alone. Another time I was just lazy. While I did skip almost all of the long runs, I did go for a 3 to 5 mile run multiple times each week, so that was more training than before. All of this training led me to think I could easily shave 15 minutes off my half marathon time and finish in 2:30.

Now real runners out there are laughing at me. First, most people don't aim to shave 15 minutes off their PR in one race. Second, real runners aren't stupid and they actually train. To that I say, suck it real runners!



(I don't really mean that real runners! I love you! I want to be you!)

I finished an incredibly hilly course in 2:28:51!



Or 2:28:46 if you want to go by my chip time.

Y'all I was so happy I nearly cried when I got to the finish line. I can't wait to see the race pictures because I know I was smiling like an idiot as I crossed the finish.

Here I am after I collapsed to the ground gripping a Muscle Milk and a bottle of water while I waited for a friend to finish:



Hello boob butt crack, I'm so glad you were able to join us for the race.

I'm pretty sure now I'm going to register for a full marathon. And I pinky swear, this time I'm going to train for real.