Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Hurts So Good

There is a principle I have always lived my life by: I, Cory Reese, will never get a massage.

It just boils down to the fact that I don't want no one's hands on me. I just don't. But after the ultramarathon on Saturday my knees and legs were feeling ultra-achy. I decided to abandon my life principle and call the person who does sports massages for runners on the St. George Running Center team. Her name is April and I've heard she can make grown men cry.

I'll be honest with you: I was scared to death to go see April. Remember, I don't want no one's hands on me? And....I'm a grown man.....and I didn't want to cry.

So April starts doing her sports massage thing on my legs. I thought to myself "Hmm, this isn't so bad." And then April found the sweet spot - part of my leg that hurt just by looking at it. She zoned in on the sweet spot and I believe I levitated four inches off the table. Nowhere in the fine print did I see that she did the massage with Tasers. She continued to find many more sweet spots.

I heard April say, with a tone of slight surprise, "Oh, your legs are pretty tight." I really enjoyed my conversation with April as she smushed my muscles into peanut butter. I laid there trying not to levitate off the table, and it hurt so bad, but holy Moses, it felt so good.

She finished doing her sports massage thing, I stood up, and the greatest thing happened: I could bend my knees! It was glorious. It was a huge difference. I feel much better. My legs are still sore, but I have to remind myself that this is likely because I ran an ultramarathon three days ago.

So I officially abandon my anti-massage policy. I will certainly go see April again. Her rates are very reasonable - if you're in the southern Utah area you can schedule your own awesome Taser session by calling her at 435-773-7297.

I am proud to say that I, Cory Reese, did not cry.

1 comment:

  1. I'm glad you went to get the kinks worked out!! You made the plunge!!

    I go once every few months and I love it. So much so that I want my husband to take massage therapy classes. Then open up his own hispanic message therapy joint and call it MANOS!

    HAHAHA! I have too much time on my hands to think about these things.

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