Yesterday, I went to the spa (courtesy of my husband) for a 90-minute massage. By all accounts, it should have been a luxurious way to spend an afternoon. But, alas, it was torture.
Why? Because it had been three months since my previous visit to the massage therapist and my muscles were in need of some serious untangling. Yes, I admit it -- despite the aromatherapy and the relaxing music, there was agony. I teared up and gritted my teeth.
When I got home, I was thinking about what the lesson had been in that experience. For some people, it would have been "don't go to the spa again." But I'm smart enough to know that Shelbie at Arvasi is talented beyond imagination, and that her knowledge of the muscles makes her like a human MRI, seeking out the damaged and injured spots and giving them the attention they need.
The lesson yesterday was two-fold. 1: Don't wait 3 months between appointments. (I have piriformis syndrome, which means my legs require special attention if I want to live a tolerable life.) And 2: Being lazy is painful.
My muscles don't get tangled and injured because I'm running marathons or doing too much pilates. I'm a mess because I never move. My average day consists of 2 hours in the car, 10 hours (or more) in front of a computer or at a conference table, an hour or so puttering around the house doing chores and cooking, a couple of hours sitting on the couch talking to my husband or watching TV, and another 8 hours sleeping. And maybe once a day, I'll think to reach my arms over my head for a good stretch. Wow -- the very definition of sedentary. Is it any wonder that the muscles in my back and hips are all out of whack?
Being lazy isn't luxurious -- it's painful. Don't get me wrong -- I'm not lazy in the way I use my mental energy for my career. Shelbie never needs to squeeze lactic acid out of my gray matter. But my body is paying the price of "all work, no play." I need to move. Any suggestions for how to get started?
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