Enjoy a few last, longing looks at that profile picture. In about five hours, the long hair will be on my stylist's floor. I always had a short, succinct answer for my niece whenever she asked me why I wore my hair so long: "Because I'm not supposed to." And that's pretty much it. I was forced to keep it tennis-ball length through fifth grade...and I swore to anyone who listened that, when I grew up, I was going to grow my hair out as long as I wanted it. But it's time. When I was in the hospital for my heart attack, I did a fair amount of what Travis Bickle referred to as "morbid self-examination" and I began to see the long hair and the flabby middle as symptoms of sloth, not rebellion. Of a guy who had basically let himself go. I resolved that, when I got through this health scare, I was going to start running regularly again and that I was going to take control of what I put into my body. Anything to buy a little more time with my wife and kids, you know?
Well...here we are...five months later, miles and miles of pavement pounded, red meat all but eliminated from my diet, and twenty-plus pounds lighter. The hair is the only visual reminder left of "that guy." So, it's gotta go. Make no mistake...it'll still be shaggy and not "short" by conventional description. But's it's not going to get in my freaking food anymore...or take hours to dry after running, that's for sure. Watch this space: New profile pic coming soon.