Day 19 Dig deeper – thar’s muscle under that thar flab.
In a brillliant example of value-added service, my yoga studio provides massage therapy with a magic-fingered woman named Laura. I’ve been going to Laura every two weeks for several months now, and between that and the yoga, my back and neck have never felt better.
So now, of course, she’s trying to get to the bottom (har-har) of my hip problem. Yesterday, before we got started, I showed her which part of my right hip was keeping me up at night. She got into it, explaining about the hip flexors, the tensor fasciae latae, the iliopsoas, where they originate, where they attach to other structures, how they shorten and tighten due to (you’ll never guess) too much sitting.
“So, we’ll work on these today, okay?” she said brightly. She says everything brightly. “We’ll start with you lying on your back today.”
That’s when I realized I should have waxed.
What followed was a whole new kind of pain. I expect it when I go to Laura – a deep-tissue massage is the only way to fly – but these small, iron-like bands apparently rule my groin like little dictators in obscure countries. You don’ like da way I work? I keel you all.
“I noticed some tension in the left hip too,” she said afterwards. “Did you notice?”
Um yeah, Laura. I noticed. That was when I was white-knuckling the sheet.
“Next time, we’ll work both sides then. Don’t forget to use ice tonight,” she continued. Brightly. “You’re going to need it.”
*
Later:
Despite my fear that Laura had unleashed enough toxins, inflammatory products and demons to make me even more wimpy than usual in my practice today, I made it through all the postures. Without gasping, gurgling or groaning, even.
Huh. Could it be? Maybe I really am getting stronger.