Many of us are still reeling after hearing the news about two bombs going off at Boston Marathon finish line yesterday.
I know I can’t stop thinking about it, especially the little eight-year-old boy who died. My children come to my races to cheer me on as I pass the finish line. Sometimes they even run with me. My mind almost can not comprehend that this little boy who had been there to cheer on his father is gone.
I’m just going to put it out there—lately my life is ruled by my hair. Or more specifically, the washing of my hair. When it comes to washing, I dread locks.
It's not just about the shampooing and conditioning, it’s the blow drying and styling afterwards. These things take time, time that I don’t have.
And please don’t suggest letting my hair dry on its own because I end up looking like a cross between a Nick Nolte mug shot and an Alpaca.