I’m a writer and let me be the first to say I have a ton of horrible habits. I sit for hours, hunched over my laptop, drinking way too much diet coke and not getting nearly enough exercise. As a result of all my bad habits and years of abusing my body I currently have a love-hate relationship with my massage therapist.
Rachel’s great. She’s wonderful. She’s one of the nicest people on the planet… until she gets me on her massage table. And then she turns into a demon hell bent on making me cry. (Generally, because I ask her to).
The first time I ever stepped into her studio she keyed in on all of the things I do wrong, saying things like, “You sit with your leg tucked under you, don’t you?” Or, “Is there any way you can raise the height of you computer monitor? All of that looking down has abnormally lengthened the muscles at the back of your neck and shortened the ones at the front.” Or, “Feel that tightness in your neck and shoulders? You get lots of headaches, don’t you? That’s because of restricted blood flow.” Oooookay… Who knew someone could glean so much just from giving you a massage???