i cheated on my massage therapist today.
on the advice of my coach a few months back, while still well ensconced in the pain in the ass (pun sort of intended) that was my injury & in an effort to get out of it … i went to see his massage therapist.
and i totally fell in love.
i never really thought I’d be one for massage – but I also don’t mind admitting I was wrong. once you’ve had one, you can’t go back to that place again where you never had them. so i’d go see her – and wince in pain as she twisted the ropy muscles in my back that sent shooty pains down my ass. and i’d hold back the tears while she dug her elbow into my quads & hip … & i’d do that deep find-your-happy-place-find-your-happy-place breathing because it all hurt. in that hurt so good sort of way.
but she was expensive. i wanted to go more often.
i wanted to see her all the time. it was massage love.
but until I can get sponsored for this running habit, i just couldn’t justify it.
so my pool running buddy tells me about her girl & how I must go see her … and I ask how much and I almost drowned when she told me – a good $20 less and she’ll cut you deals the more often you go! I did the math (not my strong suit – doing math while running in pool recovering from sticker shock – the good kind) … I could do 2 visits with new girl for the price of one with old girl. omg… the heavens opened & the angels were singing.
give me her number.
so, today i meet my new girl. i fill out the form. why am I here? Uh … marathon maintenance. yeah. Marathon maintenance – that sounds perfectly good.
i go in, we chat – she wants a little background … I’m feeling guilty already … I’ve gone over my background with my first girl – she already knew everything. Its’ so hard to start over, to tell your stories all over again. it’s a new relationship, but without that flutter of newness … she’s too perky for me. it throws me off. i’m not good in the face of perkiness. there isn’t the instant connection i had with my first love. but my muscles and my wallet tell me to just do this. i go over all my banal hip, back, leg shit – but am quick to say that it is all fine now i have been running pain free for at least 6 weeks thank you very much I am just here to keep everything in a happy place.
and i don’t say; mostly i am here because you are cheaper.
she asks what type of massage i want – i’m thinking huh?
i have a choice? what kind of place is this?
she clarifies to explain – do I want more of a relaxing massage or therapeutic.
i say, i’m not here to relax … so i guess i want the therapeutic.
she asks what my threshold for pain is … i say high.
5 minutes in … i wonder when she’s really going to get down to business, cause my toes don’t really need any loving right now. and whatever she is doing to my calves is so not gonna cut it. i’m regretting that i am cheating on my other girl … cause I know by now her elbow would be digging into my quads … and i’m about to say something when she asks, how’s the pressure?
you could go harder.
….and this makes me feel a little slutty.
and she’s talking. to me. about her. and i think, i’m not here to chat. so unless you have something to say about one of the muscles that you are finally wrenching under your elbow, i don’t want to chat. my other girl would know that once we’re 15 minutes in – i’m done with the chit chat. i am missing her.
but now that she’s really doing what i am paying her to do and i can wince and deep breathe my way through this - it feels good and is in fact relaxing and i forget that i’m cheating. i mean, she’s doing all the same stuff. if only she’d stop talking i could just pretend it’s my first love.
bottom line – she’s cheaper which means i can do this every other week. so even without the running sponsorship I can justify this.
until of course, I bump into my first massage girl who lives at the end of my street & my slutty shameful feelings all come back.
i feel like i should have a shirt with big red words “massage cheater” on it.