A blog intensifying the flavor of life and toasting those who share in the feast, rather than settling for a dry, plain, melba toast existence.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

pool considerations

When my husband decides to go to the pool, he often chooses to run there whenever he can since he is always training for his next marathon. He will swim in the clothes he just ran in and will not care if he has so much as a towel, although he will require a book if we are to be there any length of time. For me, there are far more considerations.

As the Memorial Day weekend quickly approached, signaling the beginning of pool season, I started to prepare myself mentally for our involvement as pool members. Before we obtained membership years ago, I was invited by a friend whose boys are the same ages as mine and who would love to go to the pool to get some sun, a seemingly innocent activity that goes wrong for me every time.

I remain confounded as to why anyone should wonder about my reluctance to spend a great deal of time in the sun. Do they not notice the copious amounts of sunscreen I need to apply and reapply and then apply again? Do they ever see me making any progress toward the attainment of tanned skin? Do I look happy frying there like a chicken ready to be served with mashed potatoes and beans? No.

So pool membership helped me out because I then had more control over placement and timing. In other words, I could find a lounge chair UNDER the awning which provides needed shade and could plan to go to the pool and swim after the sun has started its descent behind the large trees that shade the pool in the late afternoon/early evening hours. This is a great plan, as long as there is a lounge chair under the awning available and I can persuade my husband to go at that time. Or I can go by myself, which works especially well for a lazy summer's afternoon nap.

Before I ever set foot on the deck of the pool there is the necessary consideration of a swimsuit, and let me be perfectly blunt--this is always problematic! From my earliest recollections, I would wear modest swimsuits in an attempt to not draw attention to my fair skin that was already blinding everyone near me by creating a reflection as the sunlight hit it, before it freckled and turned red.

I knew I would find last year's swimsuit folded behind the chair next to my bed, on top of my towel/bag combination, the swimsuit I wear to work out in that is in no way flattering, and the yoga mat I take out on occasion to stretch, hoping my middle-aged body will someday remember the exercises of my youth without the residual pain. Looking at the tag of the swimsuit I was horrified to realize it is a smaller size than I currently wear, as the complications of the previous year had led to some weight gain I am working hard to eliminate. It is bad enough it is an old lady swimdress to begin with, but now it is too small?

Twenty minutes later I had managed to get into it as I stood staring at myself in the mirror. I need to embrace this woman staring back at me, I decided. She has been through a lot and she deserves to be loved. It is not her fault her skin is pale and there is an ample amount of it. Even if she were thinner and younger, and foolishly chose a more revealing swimsuit, she has had children and the stretchmarks to prove it. She has scars; physical and otherwise. 

Checklist: natural sunscreen for sensitive skin, SPF 30; prescription sunglasses in case I want to trade out my regular glasses; The Sun magazine which is great to read anywhere; a headband, driver's license, phone. I would slip my Carole King Tapestry album in when I started the car to sing, "I feel the earth move under my feet" loudly on the way there. I know every word to every song since I have been listening to it since I was in 7th grade, but instead of making me feel old, I feel empowered.

As I drive into the pool parking lot I realize a lot of people have decided to come out for opening day. I knew this would be the case. I have a portable chair in my car in case there are no seats under the awning. I will find a place in the shade even if I have to create my own. I have no children to corral and my husband is running over. It is just me. Me, in my terribly tight old lady swimdress. Me, with my fair complexion that is going to be the same skin tone by the end of August that it is right now. Me, with my interesting magazine that is going to help me block out raunchy music and people who came to the pool only to socialize. I can do this thing.

The lounge chair is waiting for me, right where I want it to be. The music is better than usual. A soft breeze is blowing. The water will never be colder than Lake Michigan. The article in the magazine is fascinating. I am ok. Life is good.

A friend I haven't seen in awhile comes over to where I am sitting. Though I am certain she in no way meant to offend me, the first words out of her mouth are, "Your face is really red; you look sunburned."


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