Trail runner Sarah Barber tests and reviews RPM by Chirp. Product was provided at no charge for the review.
In a world where artificial intelligence, complex technology, and robotics reign stronger and stronger with each passing day, one thing that cannot be replaced is the human touch. Anyone who receives regular bodywork from a massage therapist will agree with me. I’ll say it again: no one can replace Lauren. Every other week, I strip naked and first lie prone, then supine, underneath a sheet so that Lauren can dig her elbows, fingers and thumbs into my muscles and fascia to make them feel right again.
However, the investment in treatment from a live masseuse is not insignificant, prompting us to find ways to replicate the effect without the expense. Enter the RPM from Chirp. A “rolling percussive massager,” anyone can own the RPM for less than the cost of three visits to Lauren, and they can use it as often as they like. I’ll pause while you clap and cheer.
Directed pressure
This contraption is reminiscent of an oversized rolling pin, like the kind your grandmother used to flatten the dough for her flaky pie crust, except that it is knobbier than a sycamore tree. The bumpy protrusions form staggered rows along the length of the device, and the handles on either end allow the user to hold it, directing the pressure wherever desired. It’s as if a massage gun and a foam roller had a baby—a baby that claims to reduce muscle soreness and fatigue, accelerate recovery, and improve mobility.
The RPM arrived on my doorstep via UPS—not stork—coincidentally on February 14. This prompted raised eyebrows from my husband whose imagination sometimes rivals a 16-year-old’s. But Valentine’s Day kink was not on my mind. I wanted to rub out the 10-mile trail run I’d done that morning.
Sarah Barber enjoys rolling post activity with RPM by Chirp.
Ready to roll
After a quick charge of the battery, I was ready to roll—literally. With five speeds of reversible spin and the option to use a hands-free base, nothing could impede my road to recovery. Weighing less than 5 pounds the RPM is easy enough to hold, trigger pressed to activate the spin as it digs into your tissue. But my gripe with most recovery tools is that I actually have to exert myself a bit in order for them to be effective. In the interest of minimalism, I set the apparatus in its tray and draped my right leg over it as I lay on the floor.
My gastrocnemius was getting pummeled that hurts-so-good way, when I noticed the volume of the television rising. “That thing’s kind of loud,” said my husband. He’s not wrong. Although the RPM is nearly silent when spinning freely, any amount of pressure, whether it’s the weight of my lower leg or my own force pressing it down against my quad, ups the decibel level noticeably. That might not bother the user (I certainly didn’t mind), but others could find it mildly disruptive. In the case of my husband, it’s more likely that he was just jealous of the athlete (me) attending to her own needs instead of his.
Getting the most from rolling time.
Recovery enhanced
The only remaining question is whether I’ll continue to invest in my bimonthly visits to Lauren now that the Chirp RPM resides in my living room. Of course, I will. But as an aging athlete, I’m aware that I can’t train more or train harder than I already do; instead, I can focus on recovering better. I’m certain that adding the RPM to my arsenal of recovery protocols is in alignment with that strategy, so…SHHHHH! Don’t tell my younger training partners!
