bikini blues

It isn't fair. I thought that I wasn't supposed to be this scared about getting into a bathing suit after middle school.

I look pretty good in the full-length mirror sitting in my bedroom. Not airbrushed magazine good, but not too shabby.

Well, yesterday I decided to try on my bikini since I hadn't put it on in a while. I stepped further away from the mirror than I usually do. The lighting in our room comes from some weird fluorescent bulb that is only slightly more flattering than a fitting room's.

Stepping back from the mirror was a terrible, terrible mistake. I realized that not only am I a little bit out of shape, but I am also pretty gross looking in a bathing suit. I have cellulite. When did this happen? Have I always had weird ripples of fat on my thighs, and I just didn't notice because I never stepped far enough away from a full-length mirror to realize? It also doesn't help that I am paler than I have been in years. A tan really improves the way things look, even fat.

I don't know if any of this would have happened if I had just kept up with the running routine that I started last year. But no, I decided that I walk pretty often, and I have a high metabolism blah blah blah so that should be enough. Why couldn't I have realized how horrific I look in a bathing suit a few months ago? Why did it have to be now, as I'm packing to go to a tropical island?

I know that it sounds incredibly petty and vain to care about these things. Most women I know have at least a little cellulite, and they lead pretty good lives in spite of it. I don't know any super models. Zack didn't even know what cellulite was until I started shrieking about it. Most people don't even notice things like that, and if they do, they usually don't care (I don't really care if other people have cellulite).

But I think what really bothers me about this discovery is that it reminds me that I am getting older. I can't keep relying on genetics to keep me looking a certain way. I will never be as young as I am now. And infinitely more important than the way I look is how I feel. My health is going to suffer if I just sit back and let my thighs go.

Maybe THIS is the freaking final straw that will make me motivated. I have always wanted to be a fit person but I keep putting it off. And now, as punishment, I have to expose my jiggly thighs to the Balinese. I'm definitely getting a sarong as soon as I can. And a tan.