I don’t know how “well-deserved” it is, but I am preparing
for a “well-anticipated” vacation to the beach. Of the many images that come to
my mind, I smell the sand and the ocean, I hear the squawk of gulls flying
overhead, and I smell sunscreen. Because I’m a child of the 80s, back when
golden, sun-kissed skin was celebrated instead of chastised, I must admit I
miss the coconutty smell of SPF 4 potions. Zinc Oxide just doesn’t seem to have
that same island vibe. I digress.
Another image that comes to mind is myself in a bathing
suit. Like 98.5% of other women in the world, I am less-than-thrilled to don a
swim suit and parade about in front of family, friends, and strangers. Although
I’m completing my self-imposed pre-beach workout and diet regime, I still have
areas I wish weren’t there. At least, I wish they looked markedly different.
But something magical happens when your foot first sinks in
that sand. With each passing, salty breeze, anxiety and self-consciousness seem
to float away. Yes, at first, one might use a beach towel to cover up areas
until they acclimate. Maybe you leave your t-shirt or your cover-up on for a
while. It doesn’t take very long before you see two sights: someone who looks (a lot) better than you and
someone who looks (a lot) worse that you. The beauty (on the beach as in life)?
That although you may be someone’s “worse than me,” chances are you’re going to
be someone’s “better than me,” just as often.
So, I’ll forget about carbs and burpees and Spanx for the
next little bit. Oh, they’ll be waiting for me when I return. No, for now, I’m
just soaking it all up in a peaceful tranquility. “Oh, waiter?”
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| Sicily had bikinis 1,500 years ago: A Sicilian mosaic shows ancient Roman athletes exercising in an early version of the bikini. |
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