Fighting Frumpy

No pictures, please
No pictures, please

This weekend I was invited to attend a fancy ball.  Confession:  I didn’t want to go.  The past 8 weeks I’ve been fighting (and losing) a battle against looking and feeling frumpy. The very last thing I wanted to do was make small talk with stunningly gorgeous women at my table while I put on two pair of Spanx to try to flatten my stomach.  Plus I didn’t feel much like dancing.

I think if you really want to threaten a person say, “Back off or I will cut your hair…badly.”  The person who used to do my hair, Katie Stone, who was FABULOUS, moved to California and I’ve looked goofy ever since.  I tried a new place just before my competition, asking for some “natural looking highlights” and she went all Lady Gaga on the color, but didn’t go to the scalp, so I looked like I had roots when I left the salon.  But when you’re trying to schedule biopsies for your mom the priority level of “fixing my roots” plummets.

Playing nurse, plus flipping mom’s house and packing her up to move in with us, while also taking care of my kids, meant I had zero time to go to the gym.  That made me feel pretty sluggish.  Add in my depression over her diagnosis of advanced lung cancer and my “handling” the news by saying, “That’s why God made cookies,” and the result was me just feeling depressed, defeated and downright dumpy.

But then I remembered something.  I’m a warrior.  OK, I’m not a warrior, but I play one in my mind.

The day before the ball I forced myself to go to the gym, even though I didn’t want to.  When I came back drenched in sweat and rubbing my sore muscles my mother said, “This is the happiest I’ve seen you all summer!”  Her comment reminded me that I need to return to things that make me happy, including bodybuilding, even if it’s just on my own and not with the team right now.

Lisa with bangs again
Lisa with bangs again

I made sure to eat more fish and vegetables and drink at least half a gallon of water (8 cups) the few days leading up to the ball.  I lost a pound and it felt better to feel my jeans a little looser.  Thus encouraged by my efforts, I went out the day of the big even and got my haircut…badly.

It was so bad, in fact, I paid the $14 (you get what you pay for) and walked across the street to Walmart to get it styled.  You know you’ve hit a new level of bad haircut when you go to Walmart to have it “fixed”.  But at least it’s still long enough to put in a ponytail, and I think the bangs make me look a little younger.  Plus the color is a nice shade of “not awful.”

Forcing myself to dress up was probably good for me.  If nothing else it reminded me how thankful I am to not have to wear heels every day.  And it was good seeing some friends at the event, a charity fundraiser for Big Brothers/Big Sisters.  For a small stretch of time I was able to forget my troubles and just relax.

So the next time you’re feeling frumpy, remember to eat clean, exercise, and don’t cut your hair where I went.

How about you?  How do you get yourself out of a rut?

Lisa ;)

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