Kneaded Like Bread Dough

Posted: August 9, 2011 by writingsprint in Fun Stuff, postaday2011, postaweek2011, Writing
Tags: , ,

On the sign-in form, I wrote, “FYI, store tension in my neck, shoulders and low back. Not too tense today tho.” Boy, was I wrong, but by the time my massage was over, none of it was left.


A little to the left...

The therapist started with my head. I remembered seeing cartoons of gypsies reading the bumps on people’s heads to tell their future. It made me laugh. The therapist took it as a sign that I was enjoying the massage, which I was anyway. Her fingers kneaded into dozens of dots all over the top and sides of my head. After working on my neck for a while, she asked, “How’s the pressure?”

I said, “Pressure’s fine. Go nuts. If it’s too much I’ll say ‘ow.'”

My eyes were closed, but I think she grinned at that point. I threw down a challenge without knowing it. My older brother, also a certified massage therapist, once said that MT’s love it when someone tells them to go ahead and ‘go deep’ with their strength. These are people who could crack walnuts with their hands, but spend at least half their time giving light effleurage to people who just want a good rub-down.

The good news is, she didn’t bend me like a pretzel, like the little old lady MT on the Alaska cruise a couple of years ago. I don’t know where they found her, but she could hit pressure points like Steven Seagal. I still had nightmares about that one.

The neck massage kept going, then she gently turned my head sideways — also new, but no big deal — held my head in place with one hand, and pushed my shoulder down as far as it would go with the other. Or something like that. I can’t tell you exactly what was happening since my eyes were closed, but it freaked me out, and it also felt amazing. I exhaled to relax, which let my neck and shoulder stretch farther, and trusted that she knew what she was doing.

And she did. The therapist worked, and I mean worked. For the next hour, she kneaded my muscles like bread dough, wrung me out like a washcloth, and dug out the knots everywhere they hid. You know your muscles are in too many knots when the massage therapist starts using her forearms and elbows to work them out.

I vividly remember one technique where she lifted up my shoulder blades one at a time and loosened the muscles underneath. She worked slowly, pushing like a glacier breaking away the rocks of tension as she found them. Weakly I raised up one of arms and gave her a thumbs-up.

Everything after that is a blur. I remember having by back and feet draped in hot towels. Come to think of it, I remember her working my hands and arms, too. Did I fall asleep? (God, I hope I didn’t drool.)

When she was finished, I sat up and actually giggled. The therapist told me to drink plenty of water today. I thanked her, thanked the staff before I left, and made it a point to gush about how great the massage to everybody I talked to that day.

This is an unpaid shout-out to the Cottage Breeze Day Spa in Kennebunkport, ME.

  1. Natalie says:

    Massage is gorgeous!!!


  2. writingsprint says:

    I agree! Thanks for reading


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