Friday night after the MOB golf event I was re-hydrating with fellow competitors and sports fans at the post-round cookout and fireworks over at Casa Foot. I didn’t figure prominently in the awards portion of the evening, though Learned Foot did create a previously unknown commemoration for me: the Iron Maiden “Number of the Beast” Award because I had finished the last three holes 6,6,6. “The devil made me do it,” I said modestly, in response to the crowd’s applause.
I thought the Valleywood TPC golf course to be a pain in the neck, but there might have been another source, as I discovered later in the evening when Chief started offering “adjustments” to folks. Derek’s a martial arts and fitness buff with some chiropractic background. I noticed him mauling people around but originally figured he was just trying to get them to write for True North (more on that another time). When he asked me if I had any problems with my back I initially said “no.” Then I thought about the pain between my shoulder blades that emanates as a dull ache up into my neck and that has been plaguing me for the last couple of months, due no doubt to too much time hunching over my laptop trying to keep up with projects at work. It would be nice if that could go away ….
“It only looks kind of gay,” Chief assured me, sensing I was wavering. I told him what my pain was and he said he could help. First he had me lie face down on the floor with my arms swept back like jet wings, and palms up. “You know, even this hurts,” I said. Chief stood over me and put his hands on my back. “Man, you should feel the meat on this guy,” he said to some observers. “Okay, now that sounds gay,” I said.
The next thing I knew he’d put his fists together and applied a series of four rolls up my spine; the crackling could be heard even over my sudden, and involuntary, exclamations. I began to feel as if there was too much blood in my brain. Next Chief had me lie on my back with my arms crossed and wrapped around myself so that my elbow lined up with my sternum. He then put most of his weight across my chest, which delivered a sharp, piercing jolt between my shoulder blades and into the floor. I got a picture in my mind of on insect mounted on art board for a Science Fair project.
Finally we stood back-to-back with our elbows linked, then he scrunched down a little so his hips were below mine and he leaned forward, stretching me out in a rack-like fashion. This induced a loud cracking sound like a roof beam giving way and an exclamation from me that sounded something like “Awa-ahahahah-Ha!”
Redeposited on my feet I stood there mentally sending scouts out to the ends of my extremities. “Does that feel better, or does that feel worse?” Chief asked. “What was the question again?” I said. Actually, I certainly didn’t feel any worse, and it seemed as if there was a greater range of motion. I figured the next morning would tell the tale, and I found everything working when I got out of bed. I then went downstairs and while the coffee was brewing I stood by the kitchen peninsula and turned my head down to read the newspaper. In a few moments I realized that I didn’t have that cramping sensation and discomfort in my neck that I’d become used to lately. I went around and sat in various chairs and found myself to be quite comfortable. I mimiced my laptop pose and still felt some strain, but maybe only 10% of what it was before.
I felt so good I even decided to participate in the Paintball Wars on Sunday afternoon, but more on that later.