July 25, 2008



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Photography by Sang An

Much Ado About Touching

By Stephen Rae, July & August 2004

Massage feels great, but is it the pain reliever it’s cracked up to be? Our aching reporter takes a beating to discover the truth




I greatly respect journalists who report from war zones and other dangerous places. As for me, the most hazardous duty I ever pulled was covering a Mary Kay convention. Still, I grabbed the chance when this magazine asked me to put myself in harm's way by sampling five different kinds of massage firsthand.

At first, the idea seemed exotic, but I soon discovered that massage isn't a spa luxury anymore. Somehow it has gone mainstream. You've seen those suburban nail parlors that offer Chinese Tuina massage—and on summer days in my city you can practically trip over body-rubbers and their portable massage tables. ("Yo, 10 dollars, check it out!")

No less than 21 percent of Americans had at least one massage last year, up from 8 percent in 1997. And those 55 to 64 years of age make up the fastest-growing segment of those getting rubbed.

Why are people lining up for massages? For one thing, it feels good. "America is suffering from an epidemic of skin hunger," says Tiffany Field, Ph.D., a developmental psychologist at the University of Miami School of Medicine—and the undisputed queen of touch therapy.

For another, it's finally being taken seriously for healing. This is partly in thanks to Field and her colleagues, who started the Touch Research Institute in 1992. Her team has published more than 90 research papers on the benefits of massage for everything from arthritis to migraines.

All this research has given classic massage some currency in the stuffy world of medicine. And today, some insurance companies will even pay for it. But it has also caused an explosion of massage techniques, each one claiming a slightly different benefit. In the course of several weeks, I would sample five. Fortunately, for the sake of journalism, I had more than a casual interest in the process. My runner's knee was acting up (chronic pain), and I'd injured my shoulder doing something wrong at the gym (acute, or short-term, pain). For each of the rubs I took, I described my aches and let the pros do their work. Here's what I found.

Like Yoga (but no experience needed)

Thai Massage
Thai massage is sometimes called the lazy man's yoga because the therapist puts you in classic yoga poses and then holds you there to get maximum stretch. It's done in loose-fitting clothes on a wrestling mat.

My session began with me being configured into the bow pose, a yoga move that most closely resembles a suckling-pig-on-a-spit. Fortunately, I practice yoga, so I wasn't too uncomfortable. Next, the masseur sat on me, grabbed my ankles, and pushed his heel into my hamstring—a hip-rotation stretch.

"YOW!" I said.

After rotating my hips halfway from here to Tibet, my masseur next stood on me, leaning against the wall to take some of the weight off, and used the ball of his foot to get in between the scapulas in my upper back, pressing on my rhomboids and middle trap in order to push the scapulas away from my spine—at least that's what he explained later.

"YOWSA!" I responded.

"Breathe into that area," he instructed—which I didn't understand, since "that area" was my back. But I certainly huffed and puffed a good deal. He then introduced me to the notion of good pain, which I guess is pain that doesn't kill you but makes you stronger. And, most important, brings on the healing.

After 90 minutes of this, I felt like pulled taffy. But I was surprised to find how tension-relieving a full nelson could be. I felt as if I were radiating endorphins, the body's natural painkillers. And my knees felt…fine! No pain.

Outside, wandering home in a state of bliss, I was nearly mowed down by a truck.


When Massage Goes Bad
Massage is good for people of all ages. But there are some conditions for which massage—or massage in certain places—might not be beneficial. And it could be downright harmful. So check with your doctor if you have any form of cancer (e.g. lymphoma, skin cancer), phlebitis, the flu or other infectious diseases, and certain cardiac problems before going for a massage. Also check to see if you have any skin condition: rashes of any kind (whether due to insect bites or plants), psoriasis, eczema. Make sure you let your massage therapist know if you have any other acute or chronic diseases, after getting an okay from your doctor.

Hands-on Freud

The Rosen Method
"The body remembers all of life's traumas," my Rosen Method practitioner said, leaning over the massage table in the dim light of her tiny studio apartment on Manhattan's Upper East Side. This practice holds that experiences and memories are stored in the body in the form of stress, causing chronic muscular tension and pain. By meeting the tension with gentle hand pressure, monitoring the breathing, and asking questions, the practitioner facilitates the release of stress and locked-up memories.

We started in silence with a refreshingly gentle series of hand movements across my back. Her hands traveled up and down looking for tension, and then hovered above that stressed area.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I'm thinking about my car. My, uh, first one. I really loved that car."

She rolled me over, onto my back, and when she started that same gentle rubbing motion on my tight jaw, I was a goner. My eyeballs started rocking back in their sockets, as if I were in a hypnotic trance. I started babbling about my father, who had died recently, and our strained relationship.

"This is one powerful massage!" I told her afterward.

"It's not massage," she corrected me gently. Like many practitioners of touch therapy, she preferred the word "bodywork." (Legally, the distinction is murky; all massage is bodywork, but not vice versa. A lot has to do with state licensing boards.)

Bodywork, schmodywork. This wasn't like any massage I'd ever had.

It was voodoo.


Knot's Ending

Myofascial Release
Several different massage techniques are dedicated to ironing out knots in the fascia—connective tissues that hold together the muscles of the body. The best-known way of getting your fascia unknotted is through Rolfing, which has a reputation for being painful. Not quite up for the intensity of Rolfing after my Rosen experience, I had chosen something called myofascial release, a kind of Rolfing lite.

"You're twisted," said the practitioner, not unkindly, as I stretched out on the massage table. (Trying to be helpful, I had mentioned that my left leg was slightly shorter than the right.)

He began by placing one hand on my sacrum—the triangular bone at the base of the spine—and the other hand just below my navel; I felt them gently pressing toward each other. "I'm feeling three-dimensionally through your body to find where it is that you're constricted," he told me. After a few moments this elicited a gurgling. "That's a good indication the organs are starting to relax," he said.

No, it was actually gas, I said.

"Any release is a good release," he countered.

I was relieved when he began pancaking his way up to my pecs and shoulders; I was even more relieved when his kneading took away my shoulder pain.


Two fer One

Ayurvedic Massage
"You have a lot of aggravated pitta," declared the director of an Ayurvedic spa in midtown Manhattan.

And this was just walking in the door.

Ayurvedic medicine is getting a lot of attention these days largely due to the fame of its leading proponent, bestselling author and inspirational speaker Deepak Chopra. In the simplest terms, this healing system is based on the ancient Indian notion that to heal the body you must also heal the spirit.

"The eyes are the seat of the doshas, and your pitta dosha—the fire element—is unbalanced," she explained.

I asked what she meant. She said my eyes looked strained—probably from all the time I spend in front of a computer.

One Ayurvedic specialty is the Abhyanaga, the four-handed massage, in my case administered by two women, Violet and Violetta. I lay on a massage table, on my stomach, under sheets, slathered with an unctuous, fragrant oil formulated for my specific dosha, the three principles that govern the mind and body balance, Vata, Pitta, and Kapha. The women stroked in tandem with such synchronicity my back felt like the setting for a Busby Berkeley dance number. The long, gliding strokes were similar to Swedish massage, the point work much like shiatsu. It felt good, but I had to ask—was there anything specifically, uh, Ayurvedic about this massage? Or was it just an amalgamation of other stuff?

"I'm working with your marmas," answered Violet—or was it Violetta?

"Is that like the shiatsu pressure points?"

"Not exactly," she said.

When it was over, a specially rigged curtain descended from the ceiling and formed a tent around me with just my head protruding. The tent heated up and I found myself shedding toxins in a personal steam bath. Nice.

I never did find out what marmas are.


The Western Way

Medical Massage
I decided that now I wanted a massage a health insurer might pay for, a medical massage. Actually, most Western-style massage is recognized as therapeutic by the medical establishment. But the kind that targets pain and injury directly, such as sports massage, is most likely to be prescribed by a physician.

The kind I tried is called neuromuscular massage therapy (NMT), and it borrows a lot from classic Swedish massage. Here, there's no talk of past lives, childhood traumas, or marmas. There's a tell-me-where-it-hurts pragmatism and a medical reason given if the rubbing has to go out of the pain zone.

Firmly but gently, my masseuse used strokes of friction and pressure to counter ischemia—a condition in which the blood doesn't flow properly to the muscle. I can only tell you that it felt wonderful. This experience led to my deepest and most enlightened massage insight: you don't need to be mauled to feel the benefits of massage and you also don't have to understand all the principles in order for the process to work.

After several days of having my skin pounded, shuffled, whisked, and frisked, I felt like a million bucks.

Stephen Rae writes regularly for such publications as Newsweek, GQ, and The New York Times Magazine.

Now, click into our interactive guide to pressure points on the hand and foot to determine how to rub away problems in other parts of your body.