Apparently “the Big Guns” is a bag of rocks.

According to The Man's most recent report, ten percent of the American labor force is unemployed. In my circle, comprised mainly of writers, photographers, designers and videographers who work in or with the NP sector, that percentage seems laughably low.

So now, more than ever, it is important to appear professional—or at least sober—in the workplace. This is not easy if you’re unable to shuffle from your office to the restroom without abruptly falling into the wall, or if getting out of your chair requires loud grunting and clinging to the desk for support. Or if, for instance, the Chief Executive Officer nudges your foot under the table to discreetly get your attention during a meeting, setting off a spastic spectacle of yelps and groans. For instance.

I've enjoyed reading the Mile Challenge blog, but I will leave the discussion on the merits of running outside, or running barefoot, or running outside barefoot, to others. I’m much more interested in learning about recovery techniques before I lose my job.

On Sunday, I staggered Samara-style to the spa for some massage magic. Jane-the-therapist determined her main area of concentration would be my legs and hips and that she’d pull out the big guns—not a phrase I was expecting in a den of Zen.

With origins primarily in Native American and Hawaiian cultures and popularized by a New Age hippie named Mary, hot stone therapy has become an increasingly popular offering in massage studios. Though I’d heard of the technique and seen photos of oiled up chicks with trails of river rocks lining their spines, I’d never experienced it myself. But on this particular afternoon, trembling not from Chicago’s winter temperatures but with pure pain, I was ready to try anything. And I am here to tell you folks, it was nice. Very nice.

As it turns out, hot stone therapy is essentially a deep tissue massage during which the therapist presses the stones into your muscles with the heel of her palm as she moves over your body. The result is a much more intense rub, though the heat of the rock relieves the discomfort that's typical with deep tissue manipulation. By the end of the session, I had smushy muscles and was walking pain-free. Will it last? Time will tell. There is little consistent scientific evidence supporting significant benefits of massage therapy as it relates to Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (which is fancy speak for “pain”), but I felt a heck of a lot better today than I have in the last two weeks.

Perhaps I won’t need to post my resume after all.