The Mullet Chronicles

Sometimes I wonder if God preordained this mullet just to keep me humble in the face of my daily five-mile triumphs.  It's working.  I had expected that the longer the mullet grew, the easier life would become, completely forgetting the fact that my longer hair is smooth and straightened, and the untreated mullet is my wooly, course natural hair.

Today I had lunch with my friend Amy, walking the half-mile to meet her at Scholtz Garten.  Towards the end of the meal, I, as usual, asked a fellow diner to take a picture of us. He obliged.  I got a little suspicious when he snapped one picture, muttered "I better take another one," and then handed back the phone with a weak comment about our "beautiful smiles."  I shrieked in disbelief when I saw the pictures.  Amy looked beautiful, I looked like I had an ill-fitting toupee on top of my head.  Leslie, next time you spend any time outdoors, check the FREAKING MIRROR before taking pictures. I told Amy I didn't care how great she looked, these pictures would never see the light of day.  I snapped a solo shot instead.

Let me give you a back story on Amy, because her fitness story is unprecendented as far as I'm concerned.  She was overweight in her teens and early twenties, and upon graduating from college,  went to Weight Watchers.  She lost 50 pounds, and has never looked back. I've known the woman 13 years, and have never seen her weight fluctuate a pound.  Let me repeat this:  She lost 50 pounds about 30 years ago, and has never regained any of it.  She's amazing.  We met when our sons played basketball together, became good friends, then actually worked together for a few years.  Every time we see each other, we pick up where we left off without missing a beat.  I don't even have to describe Amy, you can just see it in her face:  fun, funny, loving, smart, confident and beautiful. And thin.  Always thin. 

I gave myself credit for the one-mile round trip to Scholtz, and Banks and I did the four-mile loop at the lake.  Just finished, in fact.