Love itFeet are weird, man. You can train them to type, write, and grasp a mug to sip from. (It’s a whole different story if you got the flexibility to reach that mug to your mouth.) There’s 26 bones, 33 joints, and more than 100 tendons in them tootsies. You gotta treat ’em right.
I encase my feet in big ol’ boots and stomp around and get stepped on at rock shows. I have a disturbing tendency to pick dead skin off my heel. I nearly never moisturize the lil dudes. Basically, I’m an a-hole to my feet.
SO! When I can treat them trotters nice, say with a foot massage? Hell yes, my hoofers are getting one.
Besides, foot massage can help prevent ankle injury, help with migraines and headaches, can help lower blood pressure, and can improve your circulation which can, in turn, improve your memory.
Plus, it feels fantastic. Like, yowza. Like, where’s the fainting couch so I can swoon a sec and gather the so-good groans that keep tumbling outta me.
Patty TempletonHate itIt’s not about the rub, it’s about the foot, man. I don’t like ’em. I don’t like yours, I don’t like mine.
Feet smell. We encase them in socks, then confine them to foot prisons all day, called shoes. It’s no wonder. Feet are burdened with callouses, corns, warts, bunions – could they have come up with worse-sounding names for foot maladies?
Feet are, quite frankly, gross. I don’t want you anywhere near mine. Don’t touch them, don’t look at them, don’t think about them. Please just turn around and walk away.
And, honestly, the bottoms of my feetsies are ticklish. Your rubbing of them might be soothing after my 8.5-mile hike, but we’ll never know because just the sight of your kneading thumbs headed for my feet will make me giggle and gasp madly. (I hate to admit this because, as comedian Demetri Martin says, “If someone asks if you’re ticklish, no matter how you answer, they’re going to touch you.”)
So, please, no rubbing. I’d rather the pain and achiness.