Memorial Day weekend marks the official opening of the summer swimming season, as most public pools choose the holiday weekend to open each year.
     It also marks the beginning of swimsuit season, or as I refer to it, stretch mark season. It’s the time of the year when I reveal to the world the lines crisscrossing my body like lines of latitude and longitude. I am in the prime meridian of my life.
     I pulled last year’s suit out of my drawer to discover an interesting phenomenon: spandex shrinks in cold winter weather, making it more difficult to don the suit than it was the last time I wore it. I have learned that the word “Speedo” does not refer to how fast a woman can put on a swimsuit.
     I have been known to take up to a month to get into my bathing suit. I usually start after all danger of frost has passed. If I’m lucky, I am ready by Memorial Day weekend. This year I knew I was in trouble when the suit got as far as my calf before cutting off circulation.
     Rather than waste the entire summer trying to get my suit on, I decided to buy a new one. I headed to Costco, which doesn’t seem to have a fitting room, where I found a one-piece suit that had crossed straps in the back. This is apparently a design flaw.
     From the time that I got it home and tried it on, I discovered I had entered into a wrestling match. Within moments it had me in a headlock, with one strap wrapped around my windpipe and the other strap pinning my arm behind my back. I had no idea the WWF was making swimwear.
     With the straps randomly crisscrossing and the suit spontaneously turning inside out, it took on a life of its own. I searched to see if it had an “off” button or an instruction manual. There should have been a strip of plastic across the entire suit that read “For your safety and protection, do not attempt to wear this suit if you are not double-jointed.”
     As I tried to squeeze my body into it, what I wanted was a swimwear shoehorn. As it turned out, I needed a running start and a trampoline to get into my suit. Putting on a swimsuit should not require a spotter.
     I used to be critical of women who wore skimpy string bikinis. Now I recognize them for the geniuses that they are. It is so much simpler to tie a string around your cellulite than to try to squeeze it into a swatch of fabric that resists the idea from the start.
     Besides, one-piece suits are not, shall we say, relief-friendly. Once they become wet, they are even harder to get back on than before. If there was ever an article of clothing that needed a drop flap, it is the one-piece swimsuit.
In the process of putting on my bathing suit I burned 1800 calories. Once I got it on, I didn’t even need to go swimming. I already had a workout. I had read that swimming gold medalist Michael Phelps eats 12,000 calories per day. Now I understand why.
     Lynn Rebuck writes an award-winning humor column that appears weekly in print and online at www.LynnRebuck.com, where you can watch her latest humor video,  email Lynn, and click to follow her on Facebook and Twitter. She’ll be struggling with her swimsuit in the restroom at the pool all summer. © 2010 Lynn Rebuck.

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