Thursday, February 7, 2013

Massage Envy

While the title of this post may appear as such, I am not making a shameless promotion for the Walmart of massage parlor chains.  Do they even call them massage parlors anymore?  I guess that term kinda of alludes to a more seedy establishment than I intended.  Ok, day spa, then.  Whatever.

Actually, I have never even stepped foot into a Massage  My husband, however, has a full on membership.  I guess they have this deal that you buy a membership and you can go in and get a monthly massage.  At any of their 4 billion locations nationwide.  My hubby likes to skip months and save them up and go get a 2 hour massage.  How nice for him. Which bring me to my point.
What I have is actually, good, old-fashioned massage Envy.  Jealousy.  It's not fair, and I'll tell you why.

As a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy, there are certain "minor" (ha ha) aches and pains associated with my current condition.  I'm sure most of you who have been through the whole baby-growing thing can attest to my opinion that of all human beings on the planet who need a good solid massage, pregnant women should be at the very top of the list.  Right? RIGHT!

Recently, I went on a last hoorah "work" trip with my hubby.  While he worked all day, I decided to book myself a massage at the hotel spa.  They immediately told me I wasn't "eligible" for any kind of massage other than their pre-natal massage, in which, the massage therapist isn't allowed to apply any sort of pressure or reflexology.  What the what?!  I told the receptionist, I promised not to sue them, blah, blah, and booked the massage anyway.

The therapist seemed pretty easy going and willing to accommodate my need for some good deep tissue massage during our pre-massage conversation.  But, during the session, the only slight pressure she applied was on my neck.  And while I appreciate that, there are plenty of other places, I could've used some relief; my lower back at number one.  She didn't even touch my lower back.  She "massaged" my legs for more than half of the massage, but didn't even touch my feet.  And the worst part of the whole thing was, because she "couldn't" apply any pressure, it felt like she was just...uh...caressing me for an hour.
Having a female massage therapist whose mannerisms and appearance led me to believe that she might possibly play first base on an all women's softball team, and probably frequents the home-depot quite often,  "caressing" me for an hour, made me more tense and stressed out than I was when I walked in there.
(sorry, I'm not known for being PC.  Apologies if that last sentence offended anyone)

So, a word to all you pregnant ladies out there who are dying for some relief from your sore, tired, muscles.  Pre-natal massages suck! Luckily for me, I have an awesome 11-year-old daughter who gives better massages for waaaay cheaper (a buck or a candy bar).