Despite waking up exhausted this morning, I woke up with a giant smile on my face.
My smile had nothing to do with the fact that it was Friday, nor with the fact that I had spent some beer and chicken wing1 filled time with colleagues the night before. It also had nothing to do with some sort of defence against the potential evil that could befall me given that today was Friday the 13th.
While all of these things could have been the source of my big stupid grin, it was actually due to the knowledge that I was going to be getting my first massage in months. A much-needed, long overdue massage.
Normally I build massage, chiropractic visits, and acupuncture into my schedule of short runs, sprints, long runs, hill training, stretching, and yoga. In my mind, it’s essential to ensure that my body doesn’t fall apart, break down, or start screaming at me for putting it through the paces. However, given the insanity that was the previous semester, I just never found the time. It’s not that I didn’t have time, per se – I just chose to use the time I had to work on other things, or go for runs, or stretch, or in some very rare cases – sleep.
As a result of this negligent behaviour I’ve been extremely tight – especially in my hip flexors, glutes, hamstrings, etc. I take every opportunity to stretch but it just hasn’t been enough. If Flintstone’s Chewable Morphine existed, I’d likely have taken them to treat the aches and pains that come hand in hand with extremely tight muscles. Sadly, they don’t, and this is the reason that I’ve been wanting to book a massage for ages.
This week I finally booked a massage.
And, dear readers, my massage did not disappoint. In fact, it was better than I expected. Yes, everything was sensitive and tight, and yes, everything felt bruised to touch. But my hips, hamstrings, glutes, shins, thighs, lower back, calves, feet, and pretty much everywhere else Patrick – my RMT – poked, felt about 10 gagillion times better after only an hour of massage.
I’m pretty convinced that Patrick has magic fingers, but haven’t yet been able to produce the evidence to prove this. As a science-y type person, I know the only way to determine this is via repeated experiments. As such, I’ve taken on the challenge of repeatedly exposing myself to potentially dangerous and life threatening massage treatments2 so that I might test this theory. The risks I take, I take not for fame or glory, but so that I might expand the collective knowledge of humanity. That’s right folks, I’m getting massage to benefit you. I’m giving like that.
Massage in the name of science – it has a nice ring, no?
2 Potentially dangerous in the sense that I might slip into a coma or fall of the table because I’m so relaxed. Life threatening in the sense that should I fall off the table, I might smash open my face and die. Probability of occurrence – about zero.
- Seth MacFarlane’s Flintstones Reboot is the Latest of Many Incarnations (savings.com)
- ‘The Flintstones’ Reboot On Hold (huffingtonpost.com)
- Massage Opportunity on Saturday! (crossfiteverett.com)
- Fun Friday the 13th: Why You Shouldn’t Worry (yellowinspiration.wordpress.com)
- Scared of Friday the 13th (merlinspielen.com)
- Free Massage Offered For Runners By Sponsor (lodimothersdayrun.com)
- Give Yourself a Hand . . . Massage, That Is (bellasugar.com)
- The power of touch (healthybodymind.wordpress.com)