An oily rubdown...

To answer the question that I'm sure is on the top of ALL of your minds...yes, the title of this post is "an oily rubdown". To answer the obvious next question, no...I don't mean that in an R-Rated, only viewable after 1100p on Cinemax, kind of way. Rather, I'm talking about laying down on a warm, comfortable bed, half (maybe fully) naked, being massaged every so gently with heating body oils and lotions. Wow...there really is no good way to describe this. No matter how you say it, it still needs to arrive discreetly wrapped in brown paper. The point of all this...I'm talking about a mssage.

For years I was intrigued by massage. Not the act itself, rather the fact that people are ok with another rubbing them all over, and I mean all over. Talk about vulnerability. Then there was the ever-looming concern: "What if it moved?" To quote George Constanza. So, the concern of another person with whom I am not intimately involved touching me in places directly adjacent to my giblets, couled with the even deeper concern that "it" might move always kept me away from massage.

All this ended when I left college and entered the working world. If you can believe it, I was working a job that required me to actually work from 9-5, five days a week..back then that was a hard day. Man I miss that.

Anway, I beloged to a small gym near my office. Perhaps it was from squeezing my phone between my shoulder and ear all day, whild cold calling in a desperate attempt to sell a useless product, or perhaps it was the stress of those "long" days. Whatever it was, I noticed they offered massage...sign me up.

The next night, I came in. Nervous, reticent, shy (and any other synonym for those three words). The front desk attendant showed me to the room, where she instructed me to undress. Gladly, because of course, I thought she was the massage therapist...oh how very wrong I was.

I dropped trou, folded them over the chair and climbed up on the table. As soon as I laid down, in came the real massage therapist. X was his name, short for Xantho. He was a 6' 6" and weighed somewhere north of 280lbs. I think it was safe to say, no matter what, "it" wasn't going anywhere.

X asked me what massage I'd like. At that time I knew more about laying asphalt than I did massage. I said, goofily "the kind that makes me relaxed". And off we went.

I'll save you the details of the experience, except to say X didn't come anywhere near my giblets, spending most of the time on my back and shoulders , and "it" didn't so much as shift around.

When it was all over, 60 minutes later, X left the room after I thanked him. It took me 20 minutes or so to really collect myself. I stayed on the table for a bit, drifting in and out of sleep, as I had for the entire hour-long massage itself.

I sleepily stood up from the table, absently dressed, and stumbled to my car. Now, I need to warn you...if it's your first massage, get dropped off and get picked up. Driving equals no fun after a massage. You just want to keep drifting in and out of that place you've just come from. That little island free of worry, stress, or pain.

As X directed, I drank plenty of water aferwards. The massage releases body toxins that are best flushed with copious amount of water. And those copious amounts of water release excessive amounts of urine that are best flushed at the urinal, or closest tree.

I slept better that night. Most likely partially because of the bodily relaxation, and partially the mental relaxation.

The next day I expected to feel completely rejuvenated. I did feel must more rested, and much more relaxed, but I wasn't as energized as I hoped. I thought I would leap out of bed like the the Lucky Charms Leprechaun leaps across his rainbow. But no, I didn't want to get out of bed any more than I would on a normal morning.

However, as the day progressed, I did feel better. I felt less exhausted in the afternoon, and I felt myself sitting up straighter. I felt better. No better way to say it. I just felt better.

Just like we reward our exercise with an occasional sweet treat, or salty snack. Reward your hard work in the office, or at home, with an occasional retreat...like I said, an oily rubdown.

Contact Fit2You Fitness for an in-home or on site massage therapy session, or even if you'd like to travel to your therapist...we can do that to.

As you know, Fit2You Fitness also provides Philadelphia and the Main Line with fitness and wellness services (massage, yoga, pilates, career counseling, and psychological counseling) anywher you like. We can come to you or you can come to us.



--BA
Fit2You Fitness, LLC
www.fit2youfitness.com