I just came back from a massage. I never forgot how extremely painful massages can be, especially if your muscles, like mine, have basically adhered themselves to the bone in a steel-like density, but I don’t think I fully remembered the exact feeling of how excruciating they are. I knew that it hurt, but I couldn’t recall how it had hurt. For reference, it hurt A LOT.
Last time I brought this up, I told you that I thought I was going to black out when she was massaging my calves. I’d really like to tell you it was better this time, but I think it might have actually been worse. Perhaps my pain threshold is lowering. Nevertheless, it was agonizing.
My massage therapist also worked on my hips this time around. I can say with absolute certainty that that was worse than the calves. On the plus, I feel great now. Sometimes I forget that muscles are supposed to move, especially when you touch them.
~ Hilary Lyon Axle Hatchet
P.S. The music my massage therapist plays is very soothing. It’s something classical. I’m glad it’s not nature sounds because the sound of birds chirping just reminds me of being woken at the crack of dawn by the flock of morning doves that live outside my bedroom window during the summer. That noise infuriates me almost as much as my alarm. Almost.