Gina Jackson Personal Fitness

When I was working in corporate America, I used to take one day a month - usually middle of the week - for what I referred to as a “Me” day. My assistant was not allowed to schedule any conflicting appointments on that noted day. It was marked in red on my calendar. A sanity check day. One for a sauna, steam, nails, facial and/or massage. The time I scheduled in my calendar - in ink BTW - set aside for me. Now that I am a part of the fitness and health industry, and the stress of corporate projects, deadlines and bosses no longer exists, (it seems that I actually “live in a gym” with a sauna accessible every day) those “me” days are no longer a priority. But alas! I found something today that changed my mind and could do wonders for any weary spirit, body and psyche.

This is not news to the hundreds of thousands of people that have been using the facility, King Spa, for the past 5-6 years since it opened in Palisades Park. The New York Times reported in 2006,

“Open 365 days a year, the Korean bathhouse is particularly crowded at holiday time, when purification and restoration make their way onto many a New Year’s resolution list. A $35 admission fee permits use of the facilities. For those who work up an appetite as well as a sweat, there is a restaurant serving inexpensive spicy Korean dishes and fresh-squeezed juice drinks.

Call it holiday detox, Korean-style. “When you come out, you feel 100 pounds lifted off you,” said Michelle Hong, 18, a freshman at University of California, San Diego, who was visiting her parents in Hackensack, N.J., for the holidays and fresh out of the Rock Salt Sauna. “You feel lighter. You feel so free. My aunt comes every day. She says it’s supposed to cleanse bad stuff out of you.”

The Korean jjimjilbang, a tradition of thermotherapy, purification and skin rejuvenation, dates back many centuries. Claims for the curative effects of some of these treatments can be found in the Dongeuibogam, an herbal medicine book written for a Korean king around 1600.

“Korean people like to sweat a lot,” said Ms. Hong’s mother, Helen Hong, who emigrated to the United States from Korea. “They enjoy hot sauce, spicy food, hot tubs, hot saunas. During the holidays they come here a lot. They want to get sober.”

Young B. Cho, the manager of the three-year-old facility, said he knows of no other sauna of its kind in the United States. The clientele is predominantly Korean, drawn mostly from the sizable community in nearby Fort Lee, N.J. But patrons come from Manhattan (it’s a 20-minute bus ride, with directions at www.kingsaunausa.com) and points as far away as Toronto.”

Truly a treatment facility. Not unlike my experience in one of Kyoto, Japan’s hot spa Ryokans or in Istanbul, Turkey, where I tried a Turkish Hamam. However, this experience, because of the enormity of the spa (fully enclosed on three floors under one structure) and delight of every sense - mind, body, spirit and stomach - the food is fabulous) it is the “ultimate treatment.” The NYT article further states,

“after a day of sweating out impurities and soaking to soften the skin is a Korean body scrub ($45), a thorough exfoliation of virtually every body part. Middle-aged Korean women called ajuma, wearing black bras and panties (just as they do in Korea), wield Brillo-like scrub pads over the naked, who are as vulnerable as a chicken filet on a deli slab. Skin comes off in rolled sheets, leaving a softer, lighter complexion over the whole body.”

I thought I would emerge with pale colorless skin after so much dead skin was removed from the first of my treatment - the Body Scrub. After which I followed it up with Wet Massage and let Joy, my ajuma (table #3), handle me like a rag doll. She washed my hair, applied a cooling facial mask, massages and soothed every inch of my body to my glee and utter giggles thru the process.

“Kyung-heui Piscopo, 40, a graphic designer in New Haven, comes for a body scrub at King Sauna several times a year, along with her husband, Armand Piscopo. He quickly became accustomed to this aspect of Korean culture. “She didn’t know how I’d react being naked in the spa, but I went to boarding school, so it’s the same as a locker room,” said Mr. Piscopo, 36, a heavy equipment salesman. “I like it.”

Ellen Lee, 21, drives over from her home in Little Neck, N.Y., every weekend with five members of her family. “If I miss a week, I feel very stressed,” she said. “When I come out of the sauna, I feel like all my stresses are gone. I feel so fresh. And then when I take a shower, I feel like all our impurities are gone, too.”

Healthful steam baths (hamam) have been popular in Turkey for thousands of years, many of them surviving from Hellenic and Roman times. The Ottomans perfected the hamam, or Turkish bath which, like the Roman bath, had three rooms: the grand, steamy hot room (caldarium) for steam-soaking and massage; the warm room (tepidarium) for washing with soap and water; and the cool room for resting or napping (perhaps in a private cubicle) after the bath with a cup of Turkish coffee or a glass of tea.

Today modern Turks may shower in the morning before going to the office, but many still reserve time for a weekly steam-and-scrub at a hamam, a good drying-off with Turkish towels, followed by an hour’s relaxation, tea, and conversation with friends—one of life’s small but significant pleasures.

The Korean spa design at King Spa has the same social aspect with a third level of food, foot massage, relaxation rooms and friends or lovers conversations for any number of hours you want or can spend in blissful relaxation.

Anyway, I think I found a reason and a way to go back to a once a month mental release therapy. Clothing not required for the best part!