We spent an afternoon together reminiscing about the treatments we have had ourselves, what stood out and made some special, what was just plain bad and what was scarily outright unacceptable! If these are our experiences, what chance does the general public have in finding good ones and is it all your reputations that suffer as we get tarnished with the same brush. Take time to reflect on your treatments & ensure their not just good but great!

The good, the bad, the ugly & the down right dangerous....

The good treatments...

I booked myself into a Spa. I was greeted by my therapist - she was immaculate & the room was spotless. We sat down on her couch, went through my medical history & other important information. After the consultation she asked me to choose an oil by the smell - my intuition would choose what I needed. Once settled on the couch the treatment began with burning Lemon Myrtle leaves to clear any negative energy. The massage was amazing - I felt as if I had been transported into a place of calm, clarity & deep relaxation. My blanket was heated & once the massage was finished I was allowed time to come around - I needed this. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted & to date it's been the most profound treatment I have ever had.

I booked myself into my local holistic centre for a whole body massage which was great - very professional, clean & tidy & most of all I was warm. I remember this treatment not because of the massage but because of what the therapist did at the start of the treatment. When I was on the table, face down through the hole, covered in warm towels she asked me to take 3 deep breaths and when I inhaled she had a beautiful essential oil in her hand which I breathed in & immediately felt relaxed & cared for. 

The bad treatments...

I had been going to the same Massage Therapist for a while and the massage itself was good, she had healing hands. However every time I saw her I never once had a consultation - she had no knowledge if I was on any medication, my occupation, the reason for my visit etc. But I knew everything about her - what her medical history was, that she suffered with insomnia, her relationship issues just to name a few...I was the client, it was my time for some TLC and every session I walked away feeling exhausted with someone else's problems. It's good to always remind ourselves that when treating a client we are the Therapist and it's not our time to offload.

My massage was booked - couldn't wait my neck & shoulders were so tight and sore that I had a headache for days. My therapist was nice enough but she had a cold - bless her & sniffed the whole way through the treatment whilst wiping her nose with the back of her hand. At the end of the treatment I felt ill myself. If you are ill rearrange the treatment you might feel guilty but it will ensure they come back again.

The ugly treatment...

Talking about this treatment makes me angry. It wasn't that long ago - I had saved abit of money & wanted to treat myself to a massage before we moved. My usual therapist had gone travelling & I took the judgement of the receptionist. As soon as I got into the treatment I had a feeling this wasn't going to be good. No consultation, no brief notes & she didn't even have my file!. The massage (if you call it that) was painful. Her percussion movement was punching me repeatedly, my arm was so tense, my mouth was pinched and she didn't even notice. I think I was her punch bag! I am not one to shy away when something isn't right but I was so shocked, I felt vulnerable being half naked & stunned that she actually had a job! I walked away feeling upset, disappointed in myself for letting it happen and sad for the next person who came into contact with her. I sent an email explaining what I had experienced and asked for someone to call me back but I am still waiting.
I am sure I am not the first to have had this experience and without proper knowledge I won't be the last.

The down right dangerous treatment...

Dangerous or GBH? I was looking forward to my Hot Stone Massage. I walked into the treatment room and was asked to lie on the stones. Stones! they were like knives, I had a feeling this wasn't right. One stone behind my neck was particularly uncomfortable and when I told her this she said 'to leave it there as my body was very out of balance'. I asked for the music to be changed as it was very loud and not to my taste - the answer was 'no' and after asking if she could be lighter with the stones and again getting 'no'...I walked out nearly in tears. Within in an hour I was covered in bruises, shaking, feeling anxious & violated. I did complain and did receive my money back but that wasn't the point.

Despite January being about looking ahead, excuse the indulgence of me taking a u turn (no I'm not a politician) and a trip down memory lane to where massage and I first started our relationship...

When many 13 year olds were asserting their hormones on first loves (ok maybe second... or third....) , smoking behind the bike sheds, arguments at home and getting various body parts pierced, I managed time for some of previous (sorry mum!), whilst discovering pampering, thanks to my fantastic aunty Ann who gave me a facial for my birthday (to this day she is great at choosing presents)

I still remember that facial,  the fantastic facial massage, feeling cosy and warm under a duvet, relaxing music playing, a wonderful aroma of essential oils and the gentle yet reassuring touch of the therapist.... I had arrived.... not sure where but a place I knew I wanted to visit more and more..

Years passed and I 'got through' school, a slow and steady plodder rather than high flyer of any description at a time where my dyslexia was seen as a label meaning thick and stupid..

I then progressed to a varied menu of temp jobs from making melon boats in a department store, working in a nursery (children not plants) making tea in a testosterone fuelled office, office junior in an accountancy firm to the grand finale of actually working in recruitment which felt like the sister of estate agency...selling people not properties.

Now where is all this going, at the time I wasn't sure until....

As a keen aerobic class attendee, I was addicted to the fantastic Jeanie's cardio funk class, loud music, complex choreography and a whole bunch of fab people were the new healthy hang out.. they also had a spa so yet more opportunity for massage, facials and other indulgences needed by someone training to be a high maintenance woman..

One day Jeanie asked if I could take the first part of her class as she was going to have her hair cut as a model and may be late... In a fearless moment I said yes..

I spent hours in my bedroom practising my routine ready for my 5 minutes of fame...  well actually, 5 minutes became an hour as she arrived just in time for the end of the class.

That was the day I got the bug.... teaching fitness was the way to go...

I qualified as an Aerobics Instructor but still wanted to go further, so ended up jumping onto mum and dad's bed one morning showing them an advert for a diploma in Health and Fitness. Relieved I had found something to focus on (after already having a cv the length of a dissertation) they were very positive and signed the cheque.

Massage came up again but this time it was about learning rather than receiving , again I got through that part of the course but was more interested in the hard core fitness training and the ‘no pain no gain’ mantra I inflicted on clients... apologies to all and hope you have now caught your breath!

With certificate in hand I started teaching approx 20 classes per week with up to 100 in my classes ready for the unique blend of comedy, choreography and verbal abuse (sorry encouragement). Out of the blue one of my class members persuaded me to give a massage to her  husband and I was blown away by how someone could lie down with aches and pains and get up an hour later with huge smile (probably that the pain was over!) and the mobility that he lost years ago... it was much easier than the effort involved in getting leaner or getting someone with two left feet to mambo in funk classes...

Carrying on with  my circuits class, in walked a fit and good looking guy..." Hi, my name is Declan and I would like to do the circuits class." Little did he or I realise, he was enrolling in more than getting fit as our conversations led to him to study massage at the same college as me.

Not content with just studying there, he ended up practically running the place and as I ended my days of putting people through their paces his fitness campaign also took a decline......

I started in full time private practice as a massage therapist whilst developing the well known 'Back school' and 'Walk Tall' programmes for back sufferers. I became fully booked with a waiting list within a year and loved the fact that finally my hands were in charge and my dyslexia no longer ruled..

Declan and I touched base from time to time and we ended up comparing notes of how massage was generally not taught in a way that made sense to us... being able to make a good living from being a massage therapists in the early 90's was rare and we couldn't understand why..

Well I guess we had a choice, continue moaning about what was wrong with the industry or do something about it... things were never to be the same on going to bed one spring night in 2007, in the middle of the night, the name came to me and Inspire was born!

and I guess.... the rest is history!!!