I mentioned to someone last week that I needed to recognize all the work I do, and occasionally do something nice for myself. NOT “eat a tub of ice cream” kind of nice (hmm. I’ve got a dairy allergy, so no way would that really be nice for me…) or weekend in Vegas nice (though that’s happening sometime soon, too!)
Something truly nice and healing and GOOD for me. A proper reward.
Tuesday, I did it.
I got a massage.
I have a friend, Cindy, I haven’t seen much who’se been doing massages for almost 10 years now. I ran into her this past spring, got her card and filed it away. Last week, I called and scheduled a one hour session. I had had a workout on Monday, had another scheduled for Wednesday. The full rest day between seemed the perfect occasion to see if massage could help.
Why did I wait so long to do this?
Cindy has a unique approach. She lets her hands and the client’s comments guide her to do the kind of massage the body really needs. Some need deep tissue, others need accupressure, occasionally they need hot rocks. Doesn’t matter what you need, you pay for your time and she gives it to you at one price.
What did I need? About 3 hours.
The hour itself was heavenly. Cindy found spots I knew were sore and knots I didn’t know existed.She pointed out a spot on my butt where I should sit and work with a tennis ball or foam roller.
She explained the weird way my legs feel (smooth on the surface, but bumpy when you rubbed the skin…) as dehydrated fascia over my well-exercised leg muscles. More stretching and and that foam roller after workouts. (hmm. maybe just buy my own foam roller?)
She also said:
I should have warmed up my hot rocks. You need them.
1 could spent an hour on your back alone.
And another on your legs.
And a third on your arms, shoulders, neck and face.
See? I needed 3 hours with her!
Instead I booked an appointment in two weeks.