Teaching Myself Independence and Patience

Life on the ranch-front has been super busy, with wedding season in full force and the bee business, especially for my dad! He oversees three companies and has reached the point where he has to be two places at once 90% of the time. Amazingly, 90% of the time, he makes it work, too.  I do not know how he does it... his dedication and determination to do his best amazes me every day.  He is a wonderful role model and I am so proud that he is my dad.

Last Thursday, my dad was going to drive five hours out to a ranch in Central Texas, just north-west of San Antonio, to save a herd of dehydrated, starving cattle, longhorns and mustangs by rounding them up and driving them back to our homestead for a hopeful better life where they can be tended to more with our ranch-hand, Dave. On top of that, he had a list a mile long at the ranch that he needed to take care of before the wedding this weekend (not Greg and Laura's just yet... one more week!).  There just was not enough daylight to manage all of these things.  My husband, Andrew, was in FFA growing up and thought he could lend a hand and help round up the animals in Central Texas.  So, Andrew packed up and headed to the ranch Wednesday evening to go in my dad's spot and help out.  After a 4:30 am wake up call, and 15 hours later (5 hours out and back and 5 hours to round up these wild animals), he was too exhausted to drive home from the ranch, so he stayed another night out there.  This left me alone for two and a half days and definitely missing a sweet and hardworking husband.

I was pretty bummed because Saturday mornings are our long runs with our running group, and I have NEVER had the motivation or determination to go alone.  My dad always drives up into town at 5:00 am and Andrew always manages to roll out of bed, so that I have my guys with me to push me to work harder.  This was not the case this Saturday morning.  My 5:00 am alarm went off, and I made every excuse under the moon (the sun was not up yet) as to why I shouldn't run that morning.

A few being:

• Its not safe for a girl to go alone... even if its with a running group
• I'm way too tired and could sleep in as late as I want with no one waking me up (minus Mali, my cat every hour)
• This pillow is AMAZING
• 10 more minutes
• 15 more minutes
• 5 more minutes

Then, I had a long talk with myself that went a little something like this:

"You can do this.  Imagine how you will feel when you are done with this run. Not only will you have accomplished a great run, but you will have done it all on your own. Not because someone else is making you, not because you are so competitive and wont let your dad have more mileage in a week than you, but because you did it for yourself!" (Really cheesy, I know.)  This is how I really felt, I wanted to accomplish this run to show myself I could do it alone. So I got up...

It was probably one of the harder runs I have had in a long time.  The route was 13.68 miles and I did not have anyone to talk to. (Minus myself, which I seem to do a lot lately.)  I was a little scared in the beginning because there was lightening in the sky. "This is it, this is God's way of telling me, I shouldn't run and should be in bed under my covers on my amazingly comfortable pillow! I will have to turn around at the first water stop. I am sure everyone else will be doing this too for their own safety. Thanks for telling me God!"  This proceeded to, "Why isn't anyone turning around? Why are they still going? Maybe I will just tell them and they will turn around. Wrong way people... you are going the wrong way. Did I just really tell them or was that just in my head? Dang it! Now its too late, I am in it for the long run (no pun intended)." So rain proceeded to fall on my straight hair (I usually run with my hair curly so it doesn't tangle as bad) and I could just feel it starting to get tangled up in a ridiculously huge matte. Lo and behold, just over two hours and one exhausted body later... I managed to finish this miserably hard run of 13.68 miles. I did it all by myself and at an 8:50 min/mile pace.  I felt amazing and mentally I couldn't stop there.  I walked into the fitness center at my apartment complex, hopped on the treadmill and ran 1.32 miles so that I could say I ran 15 miles again this weekend. It felt amazing to know that I could accomplish something like that on my own!  

I was on cloud 9 until I walked into my apartment, moseyed on over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  I seriously should have taken a picture of what seemed to be a huge dread-lock on the back of my head all held together with a ponytail holder.  "No big deal", I thought.  "I have had some bad tangles before, and will have this mess out in 30 minutes."  I could barely get the ponytail holder out of my hair.  I hopped in the shower with an extra bottle of conditioner and a brush and had no luck. My legs were exhausted an I was getting frustrated so I packed up my conditioner and brush and headed over to the bathtub so that I could sit while working my magic on my hair.  I think I was completely out of magic dust. COMPLETELY! I was in tears because an hour later, I was practically where I started and convinced that I was going to have to chop all of my hair off.  I had no one to help me and I could not do this alone.  

I decided to hop back in the shower and do my normal daily washing duties and wait for Andrew to get home from the ranch. I decided we would either figure a way to get the matte untangled or make our way to a hair salon and chop my long golden locks that I have had for the past ten years right off my head and cry for the rest of my life.  

Here was my Facebook post:

‎15 miles completed and I am left with a huge matte of something that resembles hair! So sad and frustrating. Might end up with short hair by the end of the day... and lots of tears.

Thank the Lord for sweet friends who responded to my post with all kinds of advice and cheering comments. Some of which entailed avocado, olive oil and mayonnaise.  Five minutes later my phone rings.  

ME:"Hello"

TRACY: "Don't chop your hair off! It's going to be okay Lindsay"

Writers Note: Why is it whenever someone says the word "OKAY" I just lose it?? It usually consists of "Are you okay?" or "Its going to be okay".  It usually has to be a girl like Tracy or my mom, but once they ask if I'm okay or tell me its going to be okay I become a pathetic pool of tears.

I completely lost it, and started crying to poor Tracy who probably did not expect me to be such a basket case on the other end of the line. I told her I was about to go to the hair salon to cut it all off.

TRACY: "Lindsay I am just down the street do you want me to come over?"

ME: "YES! PLEASE!!!!!!"

Tracy probably thought I was being a little dramatic, which she admitted to later. She thought it was probably a little tangled in the back that I couldn't see, or it was just that time of the month and I needed a friend.  I don't blame her, I probably would have thought that, too. Let me tell you friends... this was no dramatic matter.  Regardless, she came running to my side and was there for me when I needed her. For that I am thankful and so blessed to have such an amazing friend. 

Okay so this story is WAAAAY longer than I had expected. If you are still reading, thanks for hanging in there.  I will try to sum it up in the next paragraph.

One trip to Walgreens for some Paul Mitchell detangling conditioner, 3 bottles of conditioner (2 of which were Herbal Essence), one bottle of Champagne for bellinis, 10 combs, one serious headache (from the pulling of the hair, not the champagne), mayonnaise everywhere, 10 towels, half a head of hair in my hands,  three and a half hours later and lots and lots of patience ... we got it untangled.  I am sure it is pretty damaged and really don't want to find out (I am not going to dry my hair for a while). I don't think Tracy or I will be eating mayonnaise for a while either after dousing my hair in it and smelling like pasta salad for three hours.

The funny thing is, I might go ahead and cut a lot of it off anyway because over the total course of four and a half hours, I managed to convince myself that it would be okay if I had short hair. Life would go on and it could be a fun new change. But, I had enough drama in my morning and decided a new haircut could wait for another day...