You Get a Massage WHERE????

My older sister Kristy is an avid cyclist. Not only does she love the feeling of competing with herself and others, but she gets completely swallowed up by the rush of pure freedom that she experiences while riding. Although I am not nearly as good at it as she is, a small amount of her excitement and passion for the sport have rubbed off on me and we have both entered cycling races together. These races have proven to be some of the most challenging, painful, and rewarding experiences I have ever had.

One of the races we signed up for a few years ago was a relay race for women called "Pamperfest". Touted as a fun and challenging race with some pampering and relaxation thrown in the mix, it was greatly anticipated by female cyclists across Utah and beyond. Cyclists looked forward to receiving a massage or relaxing with their friends as soon as their portion of the race was over.

Some of my co-workers had heard me talking about my preparations for the race, and one of them decided he wanted to find out more about it during our weekly Operations Meeting. There were about 8 of us gathered in one office, giving updates on specific tasks that we had been assigned to complete for the week. During a lull in conversation, Paul asked me "So, why is the race called Pamperfest, Shelly?"

Without even thinking, I responded "Oh, it's called Pamperfest because you get a massage between the legs". Now, anyone who has ever entered a relay race before knows that each section of the race is called a "leg", but apparently that is not common knowledge among individuals who do not enter races. I noticed that the room had suddenly gone very quiet and that my co-workers were looking at me strangely, but I wasn't sure why so I continued talking. I even noticed that my boss, Fred, had broken eye contact with me and looked down at his hands with a silent, surprised expression.

After a few seconds, another one of my co-workers, Jens, bravely interrupted my continuous chatter by exclaiming with a laugh "Woah, Shelly!". I looked at him with confusion for a moment, then everything suddenly made sense - the troubled expressions, the raised eyebrows, the surprised glances flickering back and forth, the shock that plunged the room into complete silence apart from my rapid and oblivious rambling. As the realization of what they thought I had meant hit me like a brick wall, I felt smoldering lava creep up my neck and engulf my face in merciless heat.

I quickly threw my hands up and stuttered through my sheepish smile "No, no, that's not what I meant! I meant that you get a massage between each leg of the race!!"  Immediately the tension in the room shattered as everyone laughed in simultaneous relief and genuine amusement. The comical incident became a favorite good-natured jab and was brought up quite frequently for months afterward.

So, if you have ever had the burning question "why exactly is it called Pamperfest?", now you know!

Happy Friday everyone!!!!