Glad he’s not my type cause me thinks he saw my cooter

So to tell you the truth, my body aches. I have pushed it hard since February and I am feeling the ill effects of not enough rest and recovery. And the thought of October 2 (the day after the marathon) is oh so sweet and can not come fast enough.

After every one of the triathlons I did this summer, I promised myself a massage, which never happened. Now, after completing my last of the season last weekend, I finally took the gift card I had been saving since Christmas and used it today for a deep tissue massage.

Shaun was touted as their best deep tissue guy, so I took him. We discussed my problem areas (feet, hips, shoulders, especially under the shoulder blades) and he asked me if I was open to lying on my side so he could get into my hip area better. As I said “yes” it quickly dawned on me that unlike the Viking’s players he claims to have worked on, they were fully clothed in shorts and workout wear, I was going to be naked in between some sheets. Never the less I disrobed and slipped in.

Now, if you have had this type of massage before you know it is not for the faint of heart. There is no lying down and falling asleep to waterfall music and the gentle laying on of warm hands from the massage therapist. This massage is hard core, sometimes painful with lots of deep breathing just so you can make it through to the next knot…but always well worth the agony.

Shaun started at my shoulders and back, moved to my feet and legs and then went head long into my glutes. This is the part where I am now laying on my side, top leg at a 90 degree angle to my hip, bottom leg straight down and sheet, well that’s the problem…where oh where was the sheet?

Yeah, to be honest, I felt a little uneasy. I had 285 pounds of therapist pouring all his weight into my hip joint with his elbow, up and around the joint, slowly rooting out two knots that where so big that when they released my whole body slumped back down on the table exhausted.

In the midst of being tortured, I got to the point where I no longer cared about my exposed girly parts. I decided that if he was slimy enough to get a rise out of “that” then he would quickly get close enough to notice that I had not been kind enough to shower after my run in technical fibers this morning.

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