you’d see a man who can finally turn his head all the way to both shoulders without any pain. OK, with a little pain. But I’ll take it after the epic, tears-in-the-eyes-every-time-I-move debilitating pain I’ve endured this last week. Stupid back spasm.
And I have a few thank-yous I’d like to dole out:
1) Ibuprofen. So cheap, so plentiful, so reliable.
2) Biofreeze. I’ve amassed quite a stockpile of free samples of this stuff after all the races I’ve run. And I’ve never even opened one of the packages until this week. Now I want to rub its gelatinous, camphor-scented goodness all over my body. Especially where its now-it’s-cold-now-it’s-hot tingling properties will feel exceptionally … um … invigorating.
3) My kaz-brand SmartHeat™ heating pad. It provided hours of searing, water-boiling heat right to my neck and shoulders every night for a week. And it was the first to break through the initial lockup and melt my muscles back into something capable of actual movement.
4) My friend Tim, the world’s hunkiest massage therapist. I just got back from a profoundly satisfying deep-tissue massage, where he rubbed and pummeled and pulled and elbowed his way deep into the sit-bolt-upright-and-scream pain regions that ran from my occipitals (the rotten kids who got me into this mess, if you ask me) all the way to my toes. And he stretched my 90-minute session to three whole hours. It pays to have friends with tireless hands and nothing better to do on a Friday night. Best of all, Tim doesn’t subscribe to the peace and quiet = Zen relaxation paradigm that most massage therapists use. No, Tim talks. A lot. Which is fine with me because the things he’s doing to me are so painful and make me grunt and moan so loudly that Zen relaxation is as realistic as Pat Robertson dignity. Plus, did I mention Tim’s HOT?
Now I’m off to bed with my lightly oiled skin and my bendy, pliable flesh and my minor light-headedness.
And my kaz-brand SmartHeat™ heating pad. Just in case.