I remember the good old days when massages were fun. I'd be relaxing on the table, listening to New Age music, enjoying the easy smooth strokes, the tension leaving my body as I was blissfully sinking into a haze of pure joy that lasted hours after I left.
Sadly those days are long gone. Now that I'm an athlete I get the dreaded sports massage. I'm awake and aware the whole time as the therapist pushes and pulls my limbs, digging deep into the muscles, breaking up adhesions and scar tissue, carefully working around whichever area is injured this month. I cringe, I hold my breath, sometimes I want to cry. Afterwards I feel like I was beat up or rolled over with a steam roller like a Bugs Bunny cartoon. But it keeps me moving, so in the end, it's worth it.