Whatever Floats Your Boat
I'm not sure if I've saved money using Groupon or spent money I had no plans to spend by using Groupon. Groupon offers great deals, but like many coupons, one of its aims is to get you to buy something you wouldn't normally buy in hopes that maybe you'll like it and return for more. This is a great service when it comes to restaurants, as I'm often on the hunt for new delicious places to eat, but Groupon also offers lots of recreational experiences, and other things that I wouldn't normally have an interest in unless I had friends visiting and wanted to show them something cool (I'd still like to try out that trampoline gym). I found a 2 for 1 sandwich deal at Quiznos, which was useful since I enjoy Quiznos, and a half off sushi coupon for the Japanese restaurant around the corner from my apartment, but in general, Groupon offers coupons for stuff that I'm not sure I'd really enjoy, so I don't buy them.
But then one day Groupon offered this odd activity for a price so low compared to the normal price that I figured it wasn't a terrible loss if I hated it. What the activity is, billed as a spa-type experience, is one hour of floating in a tub of very very salty water. Yeah, that's basically it. The water is so full of salt that one doesn't have to work at all to float, so the body can completely relax and enjoy all the benefits of floating about in space without the whole no air thing. They call it floatation therapy, REST, or simply Float, and I called it something that I should probably try at least once, just to say that I did. And as I mentioned, it was a good deal.
Of course, this place is in Scottsdale which is known for being ritzy, rich, and offering lots of silly things to spend money on. The Float Spa was located in a strip mall, just like everything else in this valley is, and next to a gourmet grocery store. I was met by a guy that reminded me of those smooth motivational speakers that tell everyone to close their eyes and envision their power animal (mine's a red panda, by the way). He was so blissed out and and full of sighs that I found him a bit annoying. Fortunately, he soon went away. I watched a little introductory video about the floating thing and what I should expect: "If you get bored, try viewing your float as a test of endurance". Ah and also, I should not do my business in the float water. No problem, video. I signed a release saying I wouldn't sue if I drowned, and went into my little float quarters to do my float thing.
It's really basic, no frills, and rather sci-fi. The rooms are simple concrete-floored rooms with a shower and eerie blue lighting. The only thing in the room besides the shower is a big white egg shaped "pod" with a door like a hatchback of a car. The pod is...well, it looks like Eve the robot before she sprouted cute flipper hands and her head levitated off her ovoid body. The pod is filled with extremely salty water, about 10 inches deep and with the consistency of jell-o before you put it in the fridge to harden up. It's not as runny as water, but it's not semi-solid, either. Still very liquid. So I had my shower and got in, closed the lid, and waited for the non-structured Native American flute music to fade to silence. Very silent silence, as I was wearing swimming earplugs.
It's dark, it's warm, it's floating, it's quiet. And...that's nice, I suppose. People who are claustrophobic probably wouldn't like the pod, but since I don't seem to mind such things, I found it cozy. I found the most comfortable position to be in was with my arms floating above my head like I was about to do a pull-up. Once my neck finally realized it didn't have to hold my head above water, it was very nice to relax all those muscles that are usually so tight. When I got bored with darkness, I turned on the LED effects and watched the bright lights slide smoothly from one color to the next - the lights are underwater and the inside of the pod is white, so the lighting effects are very intense. I found the red and the blue to be so bright, they would make my eyes un-focus. I suppose this is neat, but I didn't get anything spiritual out of it.
In fact, the video and the full-of-sighs front desk fellow touted great spiritual benefits from floating around. This isn't too surprising as the system was invented by a John C. Lilly, who tripped acid, floated about, and called it science. I admit it was very relaxing, until I bumped into a wall or got the salty water in my eyes, which is horrifically painful and pretty much ruins any meditation (fortunately, there is a squirt bottle in the pod for cleaning one's eyes and face). But spiritually fulfilling? Not really. I got bored, but didn't dream or come to any fantastic conclusions about life or God or cake. I counted breaths. I watched the colors. And I stretched.
The Float Spa was pretty big on floating being used as therapy for injuries or general aches and pains, and I have to admit it was excellent for that. With no weight on any of my bones or muscles, and with warm water and air (warmed to skin temperature, I was told), I was able to stretch out my back, neck, and limbs like never before, because it took no muscle tension to hold me above water. When my hour was up and the flute music began again, followed quickly by the jet-engine roar of the pod's filtration system, I was happy to get out because lying in the dark for an hour got me quite bored. But I have to say, I was very relaxed. My back felt wonderful, I couldn't find a place on me that hurt, besides my eyes when they got salt in them. I took another shower (not enough, there were salt crystals behind my ears when I got home), hung out for a bit in the "recovery room" at the front desk's insistence (it has fish and an oxygen bar machine, should I wish to get more high), and went home feeling nice and groovy, with some fancy sodas from the gourmet grocery store.
So...would I do it again? Maybe, if there's another Groupon. The typical going price for the Float spa is $80 an hour, which I consider far too steep, no matter what the cost is for maintaining the float pods and putting those salt rock lamps everywhere. When comparing prices, I compare things to Disneyland tickets (and still use the scale despite my sister being a cast member and letting me in if I say please). A day at Disneyland, if not bought as part of a season pass or a multi-day ticket, runs about $85. In the summertime, If I stayed in the park from opening to closing, is 17 hours of sensory entertainment. Was this hour as good as a day in Disneyland? Well, no. Not even close. I do think of it though, when my back hurts or my shoulders are tight or I can't fall asleep due to various aches of everyday life - just an hour of floating about in a salty puddle could fix all this...for a little while.
But then one day Groupon offered this odd activity for a price so low compared to the normal price that I figured it wasn't a terrible loss if I hated it. What the activity is, billed as a spa-type experience, is one hour of floating in a tub of very very salty water. Yeah, that's basically it. The water is so full of salt that one doesn't have to work at all to float, so the body can completely relax and enjoy all the benefits of floating about in space without the whole no air thing. They call it floatation therapy, REST, or simply Float, and I called it something that I should probably try at least once, just to say that I did. And as I mentioned, it was a good deal.
Of course, this place is in Scottsdale which is known for being ritzy, rich, and offering lots of silly things to spend money on. The Float Spa was located in a strip mall, just like everything else in this valley is, and next to a gourmet grocery store. I was met by a guy that reminded me of those smooth motivational speakers that tell everyone to close their eyes and envision their power animal (mine's a red panda, by the way). He was so blissed out and and full of sighs that I found him a bit annoying. Fortunately, he soon went away. I watched a little introductory video about the floating thing and what I should expect: "If you get bored, try viewing your float as a test of endurance". Ah and also, I should not do my business in the float water. No problem, video. I signed a release saying I wouldn't sue if I drowned, and went into my little float quarters to do my float thing.
It's really basic, no frills, and rather sci-fi. The rooms are simple concrete-floored rooms with a shower and eerie blue lighting. The only thing in the room besides the shower is a big white egg shaped "pod" with a door like a hatchback of a car. The pod is...well, it looks like Eve the robot before she sprouted cute flipper hands and her head levitated off her ovoid body. The pod is filled with extremely salty water, about 10 inches deep and with the consistency of jell-o before you put it in the fridge to harden up. It's not as runny as water, but it's not semi-solid, either. Still very liquid. So I had my shower and got in, closed the lid, and waited for the non-structured Native American flute music to fade to silence. Very silent silence, as I was wearing swimming earplugs.
It's dark, it's warm, it's floating, it's quiet. And...that's nice, I suppose. People who are claustrophobic probably wouldn't like the pod, but since I don't seem to mind such things, I found it cozy. I found the most comfortable position to be in was with my arms floating above my head like I was about to do a pull-up. Once my neck finally realized it didn't have to hold my head above water, it was very nice to relax all those muscles that are usually so tight. When I got bored with darkness, I turned on the LED effects and watched the bright lights slide smoothly from one color to the next - the lights are underwater and the inside of the pod is white, so the lighting effects are very intense. I found the red and the blue to be so bright, they would make my eyes un-focus. I suppose this is neat, but I didn't get anything spiritual out of it.
In fact, the video and the full-of-sighs front desk fellow touted great spiritual benefits from floating around. This isn't too surprising as the system was invented by a John C. Lilly, who tripped acid, floated about, and called it science. I admit it was very relaxing, until I bumped into a wall or got the salty water in my eyes, which is horrifically painful and pretty much ruins any meditation (fortunately, there is a squirt bottle in the pod for cleaning one's eyes and face). But spiritually fulfilling? Not really. I got bored, but didn't dream or come to any fantastic conclusions about life or God or cake. I counted breaths. I watched the colors. And I stretched.
The Float Spa was pretty big on floating being used as therapy for injuries or general aches and pains, and I have to admit it was excellent for that. With no weight on any of my bones or muscles, and with warm water and air (warmed to skin temperature, I was told), I was able to stretch out my back, neck, and limbs like never before, because it took no muscle tension to hold me above water. When my hour was up and the flute music began again, followed quickly by the jet-engine roar of the pod's filtration system, I was happy to get out because lying in the dark for an hour got me quite bored. But I have to say, I was very relaxed. My back felt wonderful, I couldn't find a place on me that hurt, besides my eyes when they got salt in them. I took another shower (not enough, there were salt crystals behind my ears when I got home), hung out for a bit in the "recovery room" at the front desk's insistence (it has fish and an oxygen bar machine, should I wish to get more high), and went home feeling nice and groovy, with some fancy sodas from the gourmet grocery store.
So...would I do it again? Maybe, if there's another Groupon. The typical going price for the Float spa is $80 an hour, which I consider far too steep, no matter what the cost is for maintaining the float pods and putting those salt rock lamps everywhere. When comparing prices, I compare things to Disneyland tickets (and still use the scale despite my sister being a cast member and letting me in if I say please). A day at Disneyland, if not bought as part of a season pass or a multi-day ticket, runs about $85. In the summertime, If I stayed in the park from opening to closing, is 17 hours of sensory entertainment. Was this hour as good as a day in Disneyland? Well, no. Not even close. I do think of it though, when my back hurts or my shoulders are tight or I can't fall asleep due to various aches of everyday life - just an hour of floating about in a salty puddle could fix all this...for a little while.