The family and I are headed to Ocean City, NJ, next week for our annual Beach Week vacation. Oh, wait, pardon me – when you’re in Jersey, it’s the shore.
I love Beach Week. And I hate Beach Week. I love it because I love the sounds and smells of the ocean (as long as it’s not rotting fish). I love the feel of the water on my toes. I love the sense of peace and serenity that envelopes me on early morning jaunts down to the boardwalk, the sand under my feet.
I love the food. I love shore pizza. I could eat it every day (and, um, sometimes have). I love the crumb cake. I love ice cream. I love food.
Which is part of the reason I hate Beach Week. I am not a small woman. I have struggled with my love for food and my dislike of sweating (i.e., exercising) my whole life. Occasionally I win a battle, but mostly I’ve lost the war. So putting on a swim suit at the shore is not my idea of a good time. Walking around in hot weather is not on my list of Top Ten Favorite Things to Do. And walking around in hot weather in a swim suit with my thighs stuck together and seeing all the thin, beautiful people strolling up and down the beach? Well, let’s just say it’s always a good reminder of who I am not. And sometimes that’s a hard, hard thing to face.
So I wonder, would I rather have gone to the beach in Regency days, where everyone wore more clothing? Would that have been better? Or worse?
I may not like baring my flesh to the world, but I DO like baring it to the sea. The water feels delicious. So I guess I vote for now. Although realistically were I living in Regency times I’d probably be thinner. No fast food or candy bars. Hrm.
How about you? What do you do for summer vacation?