
Oh, it started off innocently enough. My friend Krista told me to try it when we were at the gym. Succumbing to her peer pressure, I gave in. It was nice, rolled out the kinks and tight muscles, but nothing great. I thought it would end there. But the next time I was at the gym I tried it again. Wow, it really did relieve all the aches and pains. Pretty soon I was ending each workout by using the foam roller. It was becoming my reason for going to the gym in the first place. I'll run--if I get to use the foam roller when I'm done, I would tell myself. One more mile and you can have another five minutes of alone time with the foam roller, I'd rationalize.
At home, I gushed about the magic foam roller. So much so that Mark and the kids bought me one. I hoarded it. I kept it from the kids. Before long, I was using it at the gym and at home...more than once a day. But as hard as I tried to keep my obsession under wraps, the harder it became. From the amount of time I was spending at the gym, my family thought I was training for the Ironman--and I would have if I knew I got to use my foam roller at the end.

And why shouldn't I use one? According to the one website touting the rollers, they "are inexpensive, yet highly effective tools that relieve soft tissue pain and muscle pain. Athletes often use them to break up scar tissue and painful adhesions that develop after years of workouts. Using foam rollers is similar to getting a massage from a bodywork professional, but you can use the rollers on your own at home or in a gym." I'm sold.
So if you're looking for me at the gym, go ahead and scan the machines. Chances are I won't be there. I'll be wherever the foam rollers are.
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