Saturday, September 5, 2009
Yesterday in San Francisco ... I really hurt myself!
Not in a bad way. I mean usually this is the kind of hurt I love. Call me crazy, but it's the kind of hurt that comes with lifting weights or after a really good, long run (I hate running, so I don't know why I even used that example). I like to hurt my muscles with exercise. Good. Strong. Fitness.
But, today I feel like someone whipped me with a metal jack-hammer. Theoretically, I guess someone did. Except this wasn't your typical jack-hammer. This weapon was a 5'3 little Asian woman, born and raised in Thailand, who walked and pressed on my body with her feet. I'm not kidding. My bruised body is the result of a massage; a Thai Massage.
This woman, who barely spoke English, except when she said, "too much pressure?" after hearing me moan, and "you don't want pillow?" as I readjusted the pillows and blanket underneath me.
I'm your biggest fan of massage. But, 90 minute Thai Massage? Not so much. I may feel differently if I'd taken the time to warm my muscles up for an hour or two just before my appointment.
OUCH. OUCH. OUCH. However, I feel the need to try it again. My mom and sister with me thought their massage was W-O-N-D-E-R-F-U-L. Why didn't I? Feeling jipped and physically hurt is all. I'm going to yoga soon. Maybe that will undo what she did and help to relax my tightened muscles.