Is there anything more magically delicious than a sports massage? Painful, but the kind that hurts so good. I’m quite stoic unless my hip flexor is involved; that pain has made me throw up in my mouth a little. I’ve been going to the same massage therapist for three years. The man knows runners. He worked on Donovan Bailey. He knows me and he knows my body and he isn’t afraid to dig “where it really hurts”. Which in me is usually deep in my lazy left ass.
Last night I left my appointment traumatized and not in the nausea-inducing hip flexor release kind of way. My massage therapist asked me if I’m pregnant. Twice. This, I assure you, is not a routine question. This was a question based, he says, on changes in my lower back. He said he often knows before the woman even knows, that we (we women) will emphatically say no and he’ll get a ‘you were right call’ call two weeks later. Apparently my back is “puffy in a pregnant way”. He’s awaiting my confirmation call.
I’m not playing coy with the answer to build suspense, I just think it should go without saying that any announcement about bun-baking offspring will not be made via a blog, but the old-fashioned way (by Facebook). For those still curious, I’m NOT. I repeat, I’m most emphatically NOT (that repeat was for you Mom/Dad and your glimmer of hope). I certainly wouldn’t be blogging about the trauma of being mistaken for pregnant if I was actually pregnant. It seems to be the sort of thing married types celebrate. It’s like when you give up your subway seat for an obviously pregnant lady, congratulate yourself on your kindness to others, then graciously ask her when she’s due only to discover that she’s not at all due for anything other than a morning meeting. Except in this scenario I’m the one due at the meeting (and I’m the one rethinking my choice of outfit).
This is what I think. I think I need to lay off the animal cookies.
Title Reference: Spinal Tap: Cups and Cakes. From the album This is Spinal Tap. 1984.
That is hilarious! Well, maybe not for you. But it sure makes a good blog post!
Non-runners are often skeptical that enough happens in running to sustain a blog … every day a new adventure/horror worthy of sharing.
Also, I ate a giant chocolate scone for breakfast yesterday and chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast today. I’m afraid what he’ll ask me when I go to pre-race appointment in October.
Very intriguing! Your back is puff in a pregnant kind of way? Lol. I wonder if your massage therapist is right!?
Ha ha. Not correct, most assuredly not correct!! Unless I flameout this fall, in which case I’ve got a built in excuse for lackluster performance
. This morning http://thelittlehoney-bee.blogspot.com/ was asking if I should run in my delicate state. Seems all my planks are having an unintended effect on my back belly, as in they are creating a back belly.
You had me excited there for a minute!
Wow – and this therapist seems pretty sure of himself. How do you keep from kicking him in the shins? His massage must be really good.
I was shocked into paralysis.