This Deep Tissue Massager Looks Like a Medieval Torture Device. But It Works Like a Dream.

“All of the muscles in our body are covered in a connective tissue called fascia,” said Justin Jacapraro, a physical therapist at IPA Manhattan Physical Therapy. “Think of it as a layer of plastic wrap. Sometimes that layer can become stuck together, and the places where that happens are called adhesions.”

The Roll Recovery R8 aims to induce a process called myofascial release to break up those adhesions. “A tool like this is going to be trying to move those layers off of each other,” he said.

According to Jacapraro, in healthy and efficient movements, the fascia easily glides over the muscle—an idea that sounds so alien to me that I begin to wonder if my entire body is just one giant clumped up ball of cling wrap, and that also explains why I love the squeezy, stabby, twisty pressure of the R8.

Although everyone is different, Jacapraro says most people could benefit from myofascial release in addition to stretching, and that both are more beneficial as part of a regular routine than as something you do only after an injury. “It should be seen as preventative, like brushing your teeth.”

I’ve always found the act of foam rolling just unpleasant enough that I almost never do it preventatively—only reactively, once I’m already sore or injured. And part of my long-standing resistance to regularly using a foam roller is that the feel-good pain of foam rolling seems a little too self-inflicted. The choice to put all of my weight onto the roller hard surface is an active one that needs to be made again and again with every slight movement.

It turns out this hesitance, at least in my case, can also make rolling less effective: “If the body is tensing during foam rolling, you’re not gonna get much benefit,” Jacapraro said. “It’s better if you can find something that you feel you’re not fighting.” The R8, like other recovery devices including massage guns, is not intended to cure any injuries you may have—nor is it advisable to keep using it if it actually hurts. And it’s always good to speak with a doctor before making any major changes to your routine.

The R8 does most of the hard work for me. I don’t ever have to think about how much pressure I’m applying, nor am I able to really resist the pressure. It allows me to massage myself without really having to think about it, which also means I can use it during idle moments like when I’m watching TV, or on a conference call, or waiting for my post-run lasagna to finish baking. I find myself stretching more often, with less trepidation.

After long runs, I never felt like scrambling across the floor with a foam roller, but even after a 7-mile run in the crushing humidity of mid-August, I readily use the R8 while winding down and listening to music. I also like the look of the R8 and store it on my bookshelf.

I like to use the R8 on my quads and hamstrings and calves. I can also massage my achilles tendons by pulling the clamp apart just slightly so it’s not at full tension. The R8 can be retrofitted with parts that are sold separately: softer rollers for rolling over muscles near bonier parts of the body, like shins and arms, or a set of even firmer rollers, for full-on pain-chasers (neither of which I’ve used).

Occasionally, I can hear the joints of my three-year-old R8 creaking, making me wonder how long it will last. I also wish that it would open just a little wider, so that I could more easily use it on bigger muscles like glutes, for which I still use a foam roller.

But what I like least about the R8 also speaks to just how attached to it I have become: The R8 is just big enough that you can’t really fit it into a carry-on bag. Often, when traveling, I’ve found myself sitting in a hotel room thinking, “I could really use The Clamp right about now.”

This article was edited by Catherine Kast and Tracy Vence.