The Gentleman’s Guide to the Lake Massage (by Lee Defibaugh)
A LOW Gentleman describes his massage experience.
I’m like most (older) men, I suspect. In my mid-fifties, a proud new AARP card carrying member, and embracing my new era as a “Senior”, I’m beginning to look at all those things in my life that I haven’t yet experienced. My bucket list is long and growing. As I look over the list, here’s one that grabs my attention; “Get a massage”.
Ok, time for full disclosure. This would actually be my second massage. I did have one before, just around the turn of the century. It was a gift. My best recollection from that massage – remember, I am a senior – was that I had tremendous stress knots in my shoulders caused by a daily commute into Washington DC from points west of Warrenton and Remington. My masseuse elbowed those knots into oblivion, then recommended that I go home and drink “lots of water”. Honestly, I was a bit sore for a couple of days.
In my twenties, thirties, and forties I suppose I’d fallen in with the historical majority of narrow-minded men who would stereotype massage therapy as being mostly for women, and perhaps professional (male) athletes. But that was then, and this is now. One thing that I have noticed over my years is society bucking traditional roles, hobbies and lifestyles based on sex. The times they are a changing (an obvious observation made by the late and great Bob Dylan long ago). Time for me to try again.
As if broadly speaking for the male gender, I pronounce that I’m somewhat ashamed that it took such a long time to come around, both for myself and on behalf of my manly compatriots (for whom it may apply). In evolution, it seems we’ve gone from very personal and private, to articles in Men’s Health and other manly-man magazines touting the health benefits for men (the construction workers “coming clean” in revealing the secrets contributing to their long-lasting careers in the field), to my more recent few years now of routine dugout talk among teammates on my over-50 softball team. Our pre-game warmups are now centered around chatting and getting caught up on all of our ailments, and of course how we’re progressing through massage and physical therapy sessions.
Now I would probably enjoy writing a book on “Why Most Men Don’t Get Massages”. Each chapter would borough into the psyche of men that prevents them from picking up the phone, scheduling a massage, going and then sharing that experience and benefits with buddies during poker night. Unfortunately, my Bachelor’s in Business Administration leaves me overwhelmingly underqualified to present such scientific findings. Suffice to say for me, when time came to set it up my own appointment, my wonderful wife Pam came to my rescue (as she often does in situations like this). Easy peasy for her. Two minutes (maybe), done. OK. Appointment all set, Saturday at 9:00 AM.
It’s early in the week prior to my scheduled appointment. The massage will be executed by a local, certified Massage Therapist, Melisa Villanueva. Melisa (with only one s) is right here in the LOW area, and offers a wide variety of massages; deep tissue or Swedish, mini hot stone massages-neck, shoulders & back, cold stone face/scalp massage, feet reflexology and more. I’m convinced my only prior massage was deep tissue, with an emphasis on deep. None of these others have I ever experienced.
It’s now Saturday morning and almost time to leave for my appointment. I’m feeling a little anxious. Why did I add this to my bucket list, anyhow? Perhaps now I need a “cold feet” massage instead (pun intended). Unwavering and dedicated to my bucket list, out the door I go.
Upon arrival Melissa escorted me right into the massage room. She made me feel as comfortable as I could feel, had me fill out a short form and then asked a few questions which helped her tailor her massage to my needs. As I didn’t really have any exceptional pain points at this time (surprisingly), Melissa would apply medium pressure all over body massage, but made sure she mentioned that we could change the level of pressure as I wished at any time. She explained the process thoroughly (for which I was much appreciative). I disrobed to my level of comfort and laid down on the massage table under the blankets. To my surprise, the table was heated, and it felt wonderful sticking my face into the little cradle. At this point, most of my anxiety about getting the massage in the first place had vanished, with the exception of perhaps anticipating a sharp elbow rooting around in my shoulder blade. With Melisa, I had nothing to worry about.
Low light, relaxing music, and five minutes into the massage my stress and anxiety were totally gone, and my state of mind would only get better. As Melisa worked on my upper back, it was as if she were on an expedition to seek out all little spots of soreness, many of which I didn’t even know existed myself until she found them. Often, she would discover a spot, work an area above or near the spot that seemed to alleviate the soreness, then go back to the spot to make sure it was gone. All accomplished without any verbal communication. Precision, firmness but softness, with so little discomfort that I barely noticed. Over and over again. By 10 minutes in I had melted into the table in a pure state of relaxation. If you’ve ever noticed how good it feels sometimes when endorphins are released just before falling asleep and you are in that “in-between” state dreaming about Dairy Queen ice cream, it was just like this, only even ten times better. While I’ve never dabbled in meditation (but it’s on my bucket list too), could I compare this relaxed state to some pure spiritual meditative state only an experienced guru can reach?
Timing the massage in a way that after 60 minutes my feet felt like they received equal time as my hands, etc., Melisa softly apprised me that she was done with the massage, told me to take my time getting up, and had left a bottle of water for me. I slowly came out of it, dressed at my own pace and still in my state of deep relaxation, and drank some water. Then I let Melisa know she could come back into the room.
Wow, I felt great! But what were the physical and emotional benefits I was actually experiencing? Time to do a little research. I needed more information. Feel free to do some additional research, but massage helps reduce stress, anxiety, and depression. It also reduces high blood pressure, which is associated with a number of other health risks, including hypertension, heart failure, and kidney failure. Massage has been shown to reduce high blood pressure by reducing stress (one of the risk factors) and improving circulation. It’s great for back and neck pain, caused by riding a desk all day or repetitive injury. Good for insomnia? Good for the heart? It increases flexibility? Hmmm, could it improve my golf swing, perhaps? There are many more benefits, as well.
In reflection, I’m looking at my bucket list again, in a more relaxed state of mind, of course. How do I contrive my bucket list? Do I add activities and events that won’t necessarily be fun? Is it for the experience? Is it like trying anchovies on your pizza? Is it to see if it’s something that I would want to do again? Could it become something of a somewhat regular routine? Or is it just something I’m doing so I can contribute intelligent conversation during cocktail hour?
In any event, specific to massages, I have learned one critical piece of information. That being that not all therapists are the same. I can only suggest that If you’ve had a massage but didn’t walk out that door feeling Zen to the level I described above (understanding some of you may describe Zen a bit differently of course), then I would recommend you try again, but try with someone that comes highly recommended. Melisa is one such therapist. There’s no doubting her aspiration to be the best at what she does. She understands Zen. You can contact Melisa through Facebook at this link-
Now, back to my bucket list. Should I add a manicure?
