I love receiving body work. Always have.
I have been fortunate in this department. I get massages, a lot.
When I lived in Phoenix, I arranged to go every other week. My therapist, Laura, and I worked out a deal where if I continued to go this often, my rate would be consistently awesome.
My aunt is a massage therapist and quite good at what she does. She is a super petite lady who yields crazy power. I love receiving body work from her; but, in the back of my mind, I see all of her friends asking for "free" massages since they are friends. Rarely, unless I am in ridiculous amounts of pain--quads or back--do I ask her for a massage. I feel guilty.
Most of my friends know this about me, too. My little sister sent me a massage at Izba for christmas. The best present--EVER. I was surprised that Jade remembered how much I love that place.
Anyways, Monday, a friend of mine called and asked me if I would be interested in receiving a massage from her job. She works at an Athletic Club. Of course, I accepted, inspite of my scheduled massage for Wednesday morning. I bumped, that massage, to a later date and opted to check out the masseuse at the Athletic Club.
I arrive at 5 pm. On the way over to the Club, my friend texted saying--you can also use the steam or sauna, if you are interested.
I wish that I had left earlier to utilize those amenities. I managed to enjoy the steam room for a few minutes, showered, and then headed into the massage area. I leafed through a magazine and waited.
The therapist led me to the room and asked me a few questions about what I expected out of the massage. I told her that I wanted to relax and if she found an area of concern, to work on it. In the past, I have mentioned rhomboid issues and then, that is all the therapist focuses on. My shoulders are always tight and that area frustrates most therapists. I have learned it is better to not draw unnecessary attention off the bat. I wanted a relaxing full body massage, not just a back massage.
The massage, itself, was fine. I feel that pressure could have been more and I could have told her that. She did some acupressure along with the massage. I wish she would have spent more time on my quads, but due to timing, it didn't work out. She used lavendar oil andI love lavendar. All, in all, it was adequate.
Afterwards, I returned to the locker room and decided to do another steam. I wanted to utilize that since rarely do I have the oppportunity to do it. I took my robe off, grabbed a towel and walked into the steam room. Four other women were already enjoying the steam room. It was crowded and as I try to find a place to sit, I can't help but notice their lack of towels. Hello jungle. Actually, it wouldn't have mattered if they had groomed that region, I still wouldn't want to see it in the steam room. And, they were not shy about their lack of towel. One lady was laying down with her feet up. Weird.
I closed me eyes. I tried to dream of tropical places.
I am a prude. I know it and have been told it. I don't care. I am who I am.
Post massage, I joined my friend at a networking event for the free wine. She asked me about the massage and I told her the truth. It was fine. Then, I mentioned the steam room. I know that I was more colorful with my recount of that experience with her. It was easier retelling it to a friend, I suppose.
Today, I e-mailed my sister to tell her about it since she knows what a prudish freak I am and my thoughts on the jungle factor. Too funny. I hope she laughs when she reads it.
Until next time. Keep your towel on.....