Hazards of the Writing Life

Isolation.

Rejection.

Distraction.

Frustration.

That's a lot of 'shuns, huh? Well, it's none of those hazards I'm talking about. I'm talking about...

...tight pecs.

*slams on brakes*

Seriously? Seriously!

Let me explain.

Between sitting at my computer for hours and hours, and the time I put in in the gym, I end up with screaming sore shoulders; so sore and tight they give me tension headaches. As much as I think about getting a massage, I rarely do it.

Well, I promised myself that after finishing bodystep training, and because it was my birthday, I'd get myself to the massage therapist at my gym (I get a discount for sore-ness sake!). Although a couple weeks late, I got my rear in to Martin yesterday. Or I should say I got my torso in to see Martin because once he started working on me, he said, "Yeah, we'll be spending the whole hour on your torso."

Yeah, trouble in the torso. That's me.

So, I can't fully explain the science of the body (like Martin did for me), but all that writerly slouching in we do sitting at our computers with our head pushing forward creates tightness in our chest (it's like an opposite pull thing). And that tightness just rolls our shoulders forward more and more, making us all rounded in our back. Sexy, huh? Who knew.

Moral to the story, make sure you stretch those chest muscles.

Oh, and get thee to a massage therapist now and again. You deserve it.

Because, really, we don't want to end up looking Coraline's dad.

Right?