Practice, Practice, Practice...

Getting a massage while on vacation is a bit of a write-off, so I do it as often as I can. It goes under market research, as long as I ask a few questions, save the menu and brochures, and do some furtive ferreting.

All this sounds fabulous, of course, until you realize that at many places, the massage therapists are quite new to the biz and are learning as they go.

This last time I broke my 15-year rule of not telling the massage therapist that I, too, am a massage therapist. I have kept that undercover rule for many years now, so I surprised myself when I changed my mind, immediately and on the table, and “came out.”

I will now admit it to myself, and to you, why I dropped the cloak. I was tired of getting so-so massages. I’ve had Swedish massages that skip major muscle groups and push away from the heart. I’ve had deep tissue trigger point sans the circulatory strokes before and after that flush the deep tissue areas. I have been coated with cold oil drizzled straight from the bottle.

During my first massage I thought the therapist had good touch, but I was wondering how she could massage the entire back without ever moving from her stance behind the face cradle. It seemed like she would be pretty sore at the end of the day.

“A lot of times my arms are too short for any low back work, so I either do it from the side or I stand to the side of the face cradle, right up against the table.” I said.

“This is the way I was taught to do it,” she said.

I didn’t sense an open mind here, so I went quiet for a good bit.

As she worked on my back, she told me her mother and aunt had been massage therapists at a nearby resort. She had tried there, but they weren’t hiring right then. Since graduation she had worked at the hotel spa where I was getting my massage, even though she was unhappy about the pay (about a third), the rooms, bad tips and a few other things.

As soon as I said it, I knew I’d gone off a cliff again: “How about checking in with the spa where you want to work every few months and telling them you are still interested?”

“Well they have had some ownership changes and financial problems,” she said. “I’m not sure I want to get involved in that.”

“That’s everybody I know in the full-service spa business,” I said. “It is common to go through a couple of owners nowadays. Overheads are high and income is unstable.”

After a few minutes of silent massaging, she lifted my head and did some effleurages down my traps. “That was some nice neck work,” said.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” she dripped with sarcasm.

I was ready to throw my cloak back on. I wasn’t helping me or the therapist and it seemed like a lot of frustrating back-seat driving.

Therapist number two had the best touch and the worst body mechanics I have ever felt. Oddly, she went to the same school as therapist number one, but perhaps had totally different instructors as it is a chain-owned vocational school.

What seemed to be the big difference here was attitude. Therapist Number Two knew she had things to learn, and had been taking some private lessons with a more experienced therapist at her spa. She was up for learning her trade.

She did some attempts at deep tissue, but using her C-6, C-7 as her fulcrum. I told her she was working way too hard. When your stroke’s power comes from the neck, I explained, the pressure often feels very suddenly invasive and lightens significantly as the stroke completes, almost to a tickle.

She seemed really surprised and soon she was practicing the strokes with a semi-erect back, using the feet as fulcrum. “This is a lot easier,” she said.

I went for it. “Do you want to feel the difference as a client?

"Yeah!"

We switched spots for a few minutes at the end of the massage. “This feels a lot better!” she said.

“Remember. Practice as soon as you get home. Otherwise, you will be at work tomorrow, thinking “now what did she say about the soft fist?” If the brain doesn’t send the messages to the hands, it is gone.”

Well, it was an experiment with mixed results to let my undercover therapist cloak go. I know I felt better, so I’m putting my cloak on the hook for a while. Let’s just see what happens.