The final count down is upon us. With five days left until Spring Break, my house has become a
delivery post for Victoria’s Secret Bikini’s and Nasty Gal dresses; and
tomorrow morning we are expecting four shipments of “The Blueprint Cleanse” on
our doorstep. Trainers have been hired, appointments booked and The Food Network banned entirely, all
for the sake of looking our best (read: not fat in Facebook photos) for five
days on the beaches of Mexico.
I
haven’t eaten a carb in three weeks, and am on day 18 of a strict exercise
regimen—but I am still one of the least
prepared for the looming vacation. I have seen girls starving themselves and powering
through two-a-days at the gym; and those are just the ones who are trying to do
it the “healthy” way. Rumor has it that there are girls wearing bikinis under
their clothes at Yates for “inspiration,” and the more hardcore ladies have
turned to the adderoll/cigarette/coffee diet to slim down. Even a group of my
guy friends joined a yoga studio (not Down Dog… that would be far too public) to get in shape, and
more than a few of them have asked us girls for tips on how to get a base tan.
I
will be the first to admit it: what we are putting ourselves through is
freaking miserable. The months of
starving, the incessant exercising, the primping and the new wardrobe all seem
extravagant when you consider that the whole vacation is only 8 days long. The
worst part about it, though, is how much everyone lets their obsession with
losing weight for the beach interfere with their lives. They have given up
nights out to avoid alcohol calories, and I can guarantee that Tuscany’s
monthly earnings have plummeted.
Plus, it’s all anyone wants to talk about. Dinner table conversations
have shifted from the usual gossip to incessant calorie counting, and the whole
thing is stressful and depressing.
I
am just as guilty as everyone else for this type of psychotic behavior, but I
think we all need to take a breath and make sure we aren’t letting ourselves
get carried away. I know that these next five days are a time for juice fasts
and two hour elliptical sessions, but it’s important not to drive ourselves
crazy over five days at the beach. I have heard so many thin, beautiful girls
beating themselves up over “losing these last five pounds before break,” and
watched more than a few break down over being in front of a boy in a bikini.
Just try to remember (and I will, too) that regardless of what happens between
now and your vacation, the minute you hit the beach (with a margarita in hand) it
won’t matter.
Here’s
to counting the minutes to a post-break pizza party.
