I Tried The ‘Uber’ Of Wellness And Holy Blissful Convenience
Home-delivered massage? Yes, please. Republished from Whimn.com.au.
I have been trying and failing to use a massage voucher I got for my birthday, for the better part of this year.
The health spa is closed on Sundays and Mondays (my one day off from work) and I’ve had to cancel three Saturday appointments due to other commitments cropping up.
When you have a toddler (I do) and a partner who works unpredictable hours (yep), being able to make non-essential appointments like massages ends up being more hassle than it’s worth.
Which is why when wellness app Blys got in touch to tell me about their new app – which allows you to order a massage to your lounge room with a tap of the app – I immediately jumped at the chance to try it out.
“When Blys asked its customers why they got massages, the main reason was stress relief, followed by everyday ailments such as pain and tension,” explains Blys Founder and CEO, Ilter Dumduz.
“Only 4% answered that it was for a special occasion or pampering. We strongly believe that massages should be seen as a vital part of self-care both mentally and physically.”
While the idea of a massage in the comfort of my own home negated most of the issues I had making it out to an appointment, it didn’t resolve the sticky issue of my three-year-old, who would likely be running around like a demon while I tried to get my zen on.
Nothing says ‘the knot’s worse than when you started’ like a toddler repeatedly driving his toy excavator into your foot while you try to zone out, so I decided to order my self-care during work hours instead.
“All we need is a space big enough for a massage chair,” the bookings team assured me, and when I explained to a few colleagues what I was doing with the meeting room, they wanted in on the action.
Booking through the app is just like ordering dumplings on Uber Eats on a Friday night – you specify the kind of massage you want, choose your therapist, and best of all – you can specify that you’d prefer a ‘non-chatty’ person. Heaven.
24 hours later, I was trotting off to a meeting room with Sonia, a delightfully friendly (yet non-chatty!) therapist who worked her magic hands for the next half an hour in a room that transformed from Conference 1.01 to my own personal relaxation haven, complete with soothing music.
To the envious glares of my workmates through the glass window, I was transported – and as I walked out of my lunch break massage, I had to high-five myself mentally for the efficient self-care I’d just managed to pull off. With Sonia’s help, of course.
Featured image via unsplash.com