Swimsuit Oh-My-No

I've been living in denial. I lulled myself into a false sense of security--convinced my sweater body that the need for summer body was far, far away. Sure, I made a New Year's resolution to get in shape...didn't we all? But that was January and then it snowed. Or it was Valentine's Day and we were going out for dinner and having chocolate. It was still gray and gloomy in March, so the time to wear shorts or sleeveless shirts-- or take off my very forgiving puffy coat--was nowhere in sight. I ate comfort food. I stayed cozy in front of the fireplace, snacking my way through movie marathons and Netflix nights. There was wine, cocktails, Swedish Fish, bowls and bowls of popcorn, and Chex Mix. Oh lawd, the Chex Mix.

Also, have you noticed this new phenomenon where every day is some kind of glutton's holiday? Each morning, the news lets me know that it is National Doughnut Day, World Cheeseburger Day, Eat An Entire Pizza By Yourself Day. I may have made that last one up, but you get my point. Just today on the Today Show, one of the newscasters announced it is National Eat What You Want Day. No, really, that one is real. Basically, every day is an excuse not to diet. I mean, no one wants to be accused of not properly celebrating important historical figures like the doughnut, do they?

Then, suddenly, last week was Cinco de Mayo, our nation's collective excuse to eat tacos and drink margaritas. I'm not one to miss out on a festivity, so of course I did my part scarfing down delicious salsa and tacos and beans and rice. I applauded my will power when I chose a Diet Coke over a margarita, clearly saving myself hundreds of calories. (This may have been due in part to the fact that we ate our Cinco de Mayo feast at home and were not only out of margarita mix, but as much as we Googled and researched, we could not conjure the ingredients to make anything remotely resembling a margarita with what we had on hand, but I digress). Life was a fiesta, and the good times and guacamole were flowing freely.

Then the cruel irony that is life came calling. Cinco de Mayo was over, and as I glanced at my calendar I could see Memorial Day, also known as the official start of summer, looming large just a few weeks away. The next occasion after Cinco de Mayo is one I like to call Swimsuit Oh-My-No. The warm weather is here, swimming pools and beaches are about to be crowded, and every store has racks and racks of confidence crushers (commonly referred to as bathing suits) taunting me at every turn. Where has the time gone? And why has my winter chub stayed?

I thought about getting my jaw wired shut, but instinctively I knew I could still pour queso down my gullet that way, so I'm looking for other options. There are swimsuits out there with brand names like Miracle and Magic in the title, which is great because I'm up for some divine intervention and/or sorcery at this point. Spanx has its own line of swimwear, but based on reviews I've read, it is a bitter disappointment for those of us hoping to basically purchase and wear a svelte physique for the low price of $189. Clint and I have even gone to extreme measures like not snacking after dinner, and just this past weekend we split a cupcake rather than each having our own. Oh, the sacrifice!

I did find another very attractive and reasonable option for fun in the sun this summer: the wet suit. Since swimming in a t-shirt is frowned upon, what about a sporty neoprene ensemble? This idea works well for me since my problem areas are basically from my shoulders to my knees. I really think this could be a workable solution. I mean, how comfortable and confident does this wet suit-clad vixen look?

I can't even lie to you: when I saw this suit, one of my first thoughts was to wonder if it had a pocket for snacks. I mean, seriously, you can see why I am having weighty problems. Who else but this girl wants to stock her swimwear with a snack pack of Goldfish? Once I got past that pondering, I really think it is a practical idea, with plenty of ease of movement, nothing riding up or falling down, no chafing issues, and sleek and stylish to boot. In case I don't somehow manage to lose 30 pounds in the next three weeks, this is a real consideration for me. In the unlikely event that the rest of you don't get on board with my fashion trend, I'll just pretend I'm dressed this way because I'm teaching scuba lessons in the shallow end of our neighborhood pool. That's my story, and my Goldfish crackers and I are sticking to it.

In the meantime, it's National Workout Like a Maniac and Eat Rabbit Food Month at my house, so I've got work to do. Good luck and Godspeed with your own swimsuit season adventures, and in case of emergency, get yourself snorkel chic and let's do this thing. Welcome to the wet suit way of life.