Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Extreme Muscle Therapy

Why is it that we equate "massage" with something that feels.. good

A few weeks ago,  I decided to catapult my exercising efforts, pretending I was on the Biggest Loser, and ended up pulling something.  It's OK though, because that something is only one of the largest muscle groups in my whole body and seems to connect my legs and hips together.  I didn't want to pull something, I just wanted to decrease the size of something

So, I tell Larry, the trainer that I work for, that I need help.  I can teach pilates and all, but I just can't do the exercises. In other words, I need help NOW!!  He told me about his sports medicine guy who has on his door "Emergency Muscle Therapy".   "It is amazing! He does such a great job.. etc. etc. etc." 

 Thankfully, Mr. Torture had a slot. 

Let's just say this.  If a sinister individual would like to give up the night life and go into mainstream, this job might be a good transition.  REALLY!  I'm not even sure where to begin. 

I show up, and I have to wait.  Finally, a fairly normal looking fellow shows up with a clipboard.  O.K. this is good.  a clipboard.  I kind of feel like I'm at the doctor's office.  The place that makes you "better".  

Once I'm inside the dark cavern of an office/work space, I am starting to get the idea that this guy isn't heavy on sympathy, in fact, I start to wonder why he went into the "helping people" type of profession.  He uses words and expressions like "torture without scars or bruises" and "ripping the muscles apart" and if you want to remodel the house, you have to "take the roof off".  

So, I let him do his thing.  After all, Larry said this guy was good.  Who cares if Larry isn't even 30? (young punk) 

I had a lot of thoughts during this time like:

1. Why didn't I take a tranquilizer before I came?
2. Did I tell anyone that I'm here.. just in case I.. die?
3. and kin I have my mommie?

So, the fact that I am here (at home and not in the hospital) proves two things.  

Giving birth several times without medication has more lasting benefits than just a healthy birthing experience. 

and

Never do extreme cardio and pull something  or I'll have to do THAT again.  I think I'll start speaking Spanish around the house, and convince my DH that he really is a Mexican and he loves  hippy, roundish women.  "The twiggy look is so out!"

So, now I am home, drinking a lot of water "to flush the toxins out" (who put them in there in the first place??) and ice the appropriate "somethings".  I found some frozen bread dough and sat on it.  Unfortunately my... "hot buns" almost forced me to make cinnamon rolls when the bread dough started oozing out on to the couch.  

Hey, cinnamon rolls!  See? there is a benefit in all of this.  Can I see the silver lining in just about any cloud, or what? 

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jena,
I'm sitting in Nashville, TN at a hotel watching the kids by the pool. I just read your post about massage and 'hot buns' and thought I would DIE and fall laughing into the green water with my laptop! Thanks for the BIG hoot that you are. I hope your 'somethings' are better soon! :)
Kathy B

Organizing Mommy said...

Kathy B:
You are a hoot! Who else would use HOOT except the extreme Norwegian that you are. You are the one that gave me this goofy accent that they tease me about here in IL. Don't drop that precious computer into the water, unless its a PC or something. GAH. The bread dough is back in the freezer and I'm melting down some ice blocks.

Shanna said...

Oh my! Laughing my buns off!

Mrs. Parunak said...

Such an awful nightmare, and you put the bread dough back in the freezer? I think I like your idea about speaking Spanish. You can start with, "¡Es hora para los rodillos de cinamomo, sí señor!" Babelfish tells me that this means, "It's time for cinnamon rolls, yes mister!" (I might have done the translation myself if your plan had involved speaking French or Hebrew.)

Organizing Mommy said...

Another sideline to this story is that the next day I was in such pain that I was walking like.. I was 9 months pregnant, and well someone saw me and was totally serious and said, "I didn't know you were pregnant" I laughed, "neither did I". Now I'm in pain and pregnant? (or just look like I am) I think I'll plan a root canal this week also.

Scribbit said...

"Mr. Torture" :) Ha!

Anonymous said...

Hi Bean, This is very funny! Pain is not so humorous,however. Remember what your mother has always said, at least since she turned 40, "Moderation is always the best policy!"Please take good care of your buns!(and the other dough parts)
Love, Mom