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| - For months I've been complaining about my sore muscles and how I need someone to really do a deep tissue massage on me. I prefer males just because I had a creepy experience with a female I'd rather not conjure up. I was tired of the massages I had been receiving lately. They were too "fru fru" and seemed to focus on not seeing your boobs, rather than really dealing with the problem: THAT I WAS FRIGGIN' SORE! I decided no more polite deep tissue massages. I needed a SPORTS MASSAGE. I booked the massage with "Troy". He was a good looking guy dressed more business casual then the usual spa scrubs I see and he wore dress shoes that made noise when he walked. He quadruple-checked with me the type of massage I was getting as if there might have been a mistake. After I said yes he said to me. "Are you ready for this? I just want you to know this isn't a joke." I laughed thinking he was just ice-breaking, but when he repeated that same question two more times I gulped in fear. I laid on my back first and he massaged my shoulders. OMG! My mind raced to when I trained shoulders last. I could feel the muscle fibers that were torn in the gym reviving by his strong fingers. It was painful, but more like a healing pain. Easy day right? Now lower body. Before he started he felt the need to give me another disclaimer.
He said, "Ok Oona, I'm gonna really need you to breathe for this next part." I laughed, and he didn't.
Like the sound of thunder, he immediately smacked his hands together like Mr. Miagi on "The Karate Kid". I watched in horror as he closed his eyes and began to inhale. "Oh Sh*#." I thought. "What is he about to do?" Was the upper body just a test to see if I could handle what was to come? He exhaled and looked straight ahead like no one else was in the room. He was in a zone!
From that moment on for the next 60 minutes---my muscles were the enemy! He clamped his hands together, interlocked his fingers and gained momentum as he landed his sharp elbows into my knots. WTF?! That's a wrestling move! I cried out in pain! He evoked the spirit of the late Bruce Lee and found trigger points that only Mr. Lee would know about! "Troy" used all his weight to press down on me. I could hear his dress shoes sliding on the tile as he dug deep. I kept crying out to Jesus but even he couldn't help me! I learned quickly that if I cried out he would go back over those tendons! In fear, I tried desperately to bite down on the linen to silence myself but it never worked. I was now on my stomach. Like the Kama Sutra, he stood behind me, took my leg and bent it over his shoulder until my feet nearly touched my head--exposing a severely stretched muscle. With his elbow he slowly dug deep into the quadriceps tendon. I tapped out hitting my hand over and over on the table. It didn't stop him. He told me to breathe and continued. I told him I couldn't go on without a stress ball--or something! He opened a drawer, pulled out two black smooth stones and put them in each of my hand. Without missing a beat he continued to pull, stretch, knead, and DIG deep into my muscles and tendons. Whoever was in the room next to me must have wondered what was going on? I was moaning, whining, sighing, and cursing. Did someone think we were making a porn?! "Troy" was silent the whole time. He was breathing hard as well, had the nerve to be sweating, and in a serial pummeling trance. There was no stopping him! I was also sweating and praying my 90 minutes was up soon. Troy left nothing untouched. He massaged every part of my body except the areas that were CLEARLY off limits. Who would of thought a glute massage would be so painful?! He took his elbow and like a large pointy spoon "stirred the pot" repeatedly into my gluteus maximus. Still, he continued to tell me to breathe. Hell! That's all I could do! He finished by massaging my neck and trying to end the session in a relaxed state but there was no relaxing! Things had gone too far and I was traumatized. He asked me how I felt.
Without hesitation I said tiredly, "Like...I've been in a...UFC cage fight." He laughed and told me to drink plenty of water because I was going to be sore tomorrow. I left feeling weird like Bill Cosby just made me a Coke on the rocks. I couldn't explain it but I had no words. It was similar to that damn colonic I had months ago.
I now had a new acronym for a Sports Massage: SadoMasochist!
I ended up tipping "Troy" the maximum preferred tip. He really did his job. As painful and torturous as it was, he left no muscle behind and I honestly got what I asked for--and then some! I was sore like he said, but once that wore off my body felt....agile. As much as I praise the final results I've yet to book another appointment. In fact I let two months slip by because honestly---I'm afraid! Haha....It's something I have to work myself mentally up to. I'm due for another one this month. Pray for me.
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