I’m proud to say that I completed yesterday’s Warrior Dash and it was TOTALLY AWESOME! However, since I must post the fire jumping photo once it’s up, the recap will have to wait. I know you are all bummed, but I have a way better story to tide you over until then. I promise.
Today, Cute K and I decided to run our 20 miler. Yup. After the Warrior Dash and after what has been a tough training week for me. I basically busted my butt this week and today I’m totally feeling it. After the swim last Sunday, followed by the spin on Monday and the rest of my runs this week, I’m spent. Thus today’s 20 miler was tough.

“It ain’t gonna be pretty,” I said to Cute K. “But I know we’ll finish.” And finish we did. Of course the last three miles my quads and glutes were calling UNCLE! My quads felt like tiny ninjas were karate chopping them and my glutes felt like they got kicked from here to Osaka. Hi Scott!
So we finished up our run in silence, both cursing like sailors in our heads and both really needing a rest day. As I headed home post run I decided I needed an ice bath, a massage, and a beer. In that order.
First things first. I get home and tell my roommate I’m going to hop in the bath and I need him to dump the ice in for me. He shakes his head and says, “For a female, you have bigger balls than anyone I know.” Keep in mind, I’m one of the only runners he knows so he isn’t aware of how badass most of us are. (And don’t be offended by the female remark, he says stuff like that to mess with me.)
I put on my swim suit and hop in the tub. Roomie comes in and dumps in ice. I sit for about 15 minutes of sheer freezing relief. I did bring my coffee with me as this seems to help me stay a bit warm during an ice bath. I’m sure hot tea would work. Or whiskey. Yeah. Whiskey next time…
Anywho, I’m not to the good part yet, hang with me. Since I’m such a last minute massage getter I start calling every massage spa in the area. The majority are booked and a few just plain aren’t open on Sundays. As I’m scrolling through the list I see one that I recognize from driving by it on a daily basis.
It’s one of those massage places that has the neon sign in the window. And it’s got an Asian vibe to it. You know, it’s not exactly like a “traditional” day spa. So like Nick Cage choosing his next film, I roll the dice. I’m sore and I need a massage. Here’s hoping this isn’t a happy ending place since I don’t want to end up in jail for being a massage parlor John.
I give the place a call and I’m in luck. The heavy accented Asian woman who answers says, “Sure we see you, half hour.” Hm. Whatevs. I’m sore.
Once I enter I feel better. It looks like a normal spa. It’s dimly lit, there’s a water cooler near the door with cups, and tranquil music is playing. I relax a bit.
I assume the woman I spoke with on the phone is who greets me. She says hello and takes me back to a massage room. Typical scenery again. Then she says “Take off your clothes. Face down on table.” I look at the table and see no sheet to get under. Hm. I say, “Uh, what sheet do I get under?” She then points to a towel that I somehow missed in my panic scan. Okie dokie then.
I undress and leave on my undies. I usually leave them on when I get a massage. I know some folks don’t but I always have and it’s never been a problem. I then get under the towel which only covers my ninja attacked ass. My massage therapist comes back in. As she goes to replace the towel with a sheet she suddenly stops.

“You have take these off.” She says.
“Wha? Really?” I ponder.
“Yes, since you say hips sore, it easier and better for you.”
Okie dokie. Are those sirens I hear outside?
After I remove said last article of clothing she comes in and replaces the towel with a sheet. But the sheet she basically makes into a thong. It’s now just a strip of fabric covering my crack. My butt is all kinds of flapping in the breeze now. Granted, I have had many, many massages but I’ve never had my rear end so exposed. It was a tad bit odd. However, I was thinking it’s nothing this nice, little Asian woman hasn’t see before.
As she begins my massage I relax again and feel silly because I realize this must just be a different type of massage. However, I did feel a bit strange as she played pat-a-cake on my butt cheeks. They were sore as hell so I’m actually kind of greatful for going to this new place.
She also stood or kneeled on the table during parts of the massage which was surprising to me. It was so strange and yet still a great massage. I actually read when I got home that they practiced ashiatsu massage. They basically walk on client’s backs and use bars to vary pressure. (Thank God she didn’t walk on my back, I would have had a small stroke!)
The best part of the massage was when she left the room for a minute and came back with warm towels for a final rub down. I may start heating my towels just for any old occassion. Delightful.
In any event, no police were called for my solicitation and I had a wonderful massage. I would go back in a pinch, but I still prefer my traditional, puritan-panties-on style massage.

And now I need that beer.

Happy Sunday.