p.t.

Our physical therapist watched the show tonight.

And the thing about your physical therapist watching the show is that you're all of the sudden seeing your body the way he does. You can no longer just stand and bevel. Now you have to give a slight arch to your back in order to stabilize those pesky hips that keep wanting to go out of alignment.

And remember when a kick was just a kick? Yeah, that was nice. Now, you're pointedly aware of the way your quad takes over what your hip flexor should be doing, causing the quad to get too tight and your knee to stop tracking correctly and shoot! what did the physical therapist say about always rolling out my I.T. band? Did I do that today...?!

But standing. I mean, standing should be fine. I've been doing it since I was what--a year old? That's a lot of practice. Oh, except that my right hip is too far forward, except for that. So even when I am standing during the show, I am left to wonder if my therapist is analyzing my hip, mentally tsk-tsking as, with the same ability to see minute discrepancies from far distances that is reserved for an eagle, a dance captain, and your mom, he notices that once again I am not standing as I should.

Though goodness knows I try.

And goodness knows I love physical therapy.

That is, I love it when they aren't telling me that I need to eat more hamburgers or that, upon a cursory glance, I probably have a stress fracture and other encouraging diagnoses of that nature.

And honestly, at the end of the day what I usually want is a good, deep tissue massage. So you can understand my disappointment when, after walking in and laying down on the table hoping for some hands-on treatment, they simply show me some leg lifts to do. Or yet again another lunge. A LUNGE? Really? The same one I did in jazz class in 5th grade is the secret to my feeling better and you have a college degree in order to tell me this?

Or how about the ones that Just. Keep. Talking. And sometimes they are even so into whatever it is they are saying that they STOP MOVING THEIR HANDS ON WHATEVER SPOT THAT HURTS LIKE THE DICKENS, pausing for effect when the only real effect it has is 10 seconds less of pain relief.

And then there was the physical therapist who, after showing me a few stretches and exercises, told me that I still had five minutes left of my session and suggested that I take advantage of the roller that was in the corner.

Oh, that roller? The one that is just like the four rollers that our company already provides for us, making it so I am totally free to use one of them on my own time?

Thanks.

This is why I loved the one physical therapy session I had in Japan. The guy could barely speak any English. Score. His room was so small, there was only room for himself, a massage table, and unfortunately nothing else, leaving the rollers out of the equation. Score. And he massaged me nice and deep for a full half hour. Score. And his diagnosis? I need more massages.

SO SCORE.

And I'll totally work on that.