Today my back is aching and the rest of my body feels... well... there. I am also rather dehydrated and I generally feel like curling up back into bed.
This blissful state was brought up by another of those new experiences London offers me from time to time. Yesterday I was given my first ever real massage. Before that, like most people, I had had my shoulders squeezed for a few minutes by a friend, and once and guy in a sauna had showed me hand and feet massage but that was about it.
I met PMC, the masseur, online some weeks ago and we seem on the way to friendship. He is a musician but on Sunday we started chatting about his other professional talents. Somehow he ended up offering me to come over and have a massage. Because I can not afford to pay for the service, we agreed that I would provide something in exchange. I am to design a webpage for him to advertise his services.
When I got to PMC's place in north London, started with a nice relaxed chat about his future webpage over a cup of nettle tea. Another first in my obviously sheltered life; I had never had nettle tea before (I think I'll buy some, it was nice). Then PMC set up his table, asked me to choose some music, closed the drapes, made me strip and lie on the table, and started to work on my back.
Having heard people rave about how good it feels, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. The 90 minutes the session lasted went very quickly indeed and some work was obviously needed on certain muscle groups (shoulders and calves particularly). Unfortunately, as is all too often the case, my brain went on overdrive for most of the session, which, I think, prevented my from enjoying the physical experience fully. Not the first time I have that sort of problem.
Once we were finished, it was time to go to rehearsal with the Chorus. That meant resisting the impulse to go to sleep, dress up and go off in the cold, windy evening. Melted snow was falling. By the time I got to the rehearsal place, just on time, I was cold and flustered. Probably not the best way to capitalise on my earlier experience.
After a good night's sleep, I woke up feeling like I had been battered; like one would feel after an unusual work out. I seem to have a little more energy than usual though. PMC is worried that he might have been a little too forceful for a first-timer. He tells me that today's aches are a sign of how needed the massage was and that I would need another session to put things right. Instead, I will simply go back to daily bad positioning in front of this computer and sleeping on an old futton. I will probably try to start using pillows again, though.
I think I'll go and do a bit of stretching...
This blissful state was brought up by another of those new experiences London offers me from time to time. Yesterday I was given my first ever real massage. Before that, like most people, I had had my shoulders squeezed for a few minutes by a friend, and once and guy in a sauna had showed me hand and feet massage but that was about it.
I met PMC, the masseur, online some weeks ago and we seem on the way to friendship. He is a musician but on Sunday we started chatting about his other professional talents. Somehow he ended up offering me to come over and have a massage. Because I can not afford to pay for the service, we agreed that I would provide something in exchange. I am to design a webpage for him to advertise his services.
When I got to PMC's place in north London, started with a nice relaxed chat about his future webpage over a cup of nettle tea. Another first in my obviously sheltered life; I had never had nettle tea before (I think I'll buy some, it was nice). Then PMC set up his table, asked me to choose some music, closed the drapes, made me strip and lie on the table, and started to work on my back.
Having heard people rave about how good it feels, I wasn't quite sure what to expect. The 90 minutes the session lasted went very quickly indeed and some work was obviously needed on certain muscle groups (shoulders and calves particularly). Unfortunately, as is all too often the case, my brain went on overdrive for most of the session, which, I think, prevented my from enjoying the physical experience fully. Not the first time I have that sort of problem.
Once we were finished, it was time to go to rehearsal with the Chorus. That meant resisting the impulse to go to sleep, dress up and go off in the cold, windy evening. Melted snow was falling. By the time I got to the rehearsal place, just on time, I was cold and flustered. Probably not the best way to capitalise on my earlier experience.
After a good night's sleep, I woke up feeling like I had been battered; like one would feel after an unusual work out. I seem to have a little more energy than usual though. PMC is worried that he might have been a little too forceful for a first-timer. He tells me that today's aches are a sign of how needed the massage was and that I would need another session to put things right. Instead, I will simply go back to daily bad positioning in front of this computer and sleeping on an old futton. I will probably try to start using pillows again, though.
I think I'll go and do a bit of stretching...
I do believe he was a bit too rough on you. I have never had a real massage but just like you I’ve heard it is good. One day I’ll be as lucky as you to find a professional who would do it for me.... free
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