True Rest Float Spa San Diego Ca

Okay, San Diego, let's talk. We’re all stressed. Sunshine and beaches aside, life is… a lot. And everyone keeps suggesting the same thing: floating. Specifically, going to True Rest Float Spa. So, I went.

Now, before you grab your essential oils and throw them at me, hear me out. Floating isn't exactly what I expected. And maybe, just maybe, I have some...unpopular opinions.

The Salt Situation: It's Not Just for Margaritas

They tell you it's like the Dead Sea. I've never been to the Dead Sea, so I took their word for it. All that Epsom salt? Seriously buoyant. You float. Like, really float. But here's the thing: you're basically marinating in a giant bath of salt. For an hour.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good margarita. Salt on the rim? Chef's kiss. But bathing in it? My skin felt like a giant pickle afterwards. A very relaxed, but decidedly pickled, pickle.

And the inevitable salt crystals in, shall we say, sensitive areas later? Let’s just say showering afterwards is non-negotiable. Showering twice might be even better. Consider yourself warned!

Sensory Deprivation: Turns Out I Like My Senses

The whole point, they say, is to deprive your senses. Darkness. Silence. No gravity. It’s supposed to be blissful. A mental reset.

For me? It was…quiet. Really quiet. Like, I could hear my own heartbeat kind of quiet. And my thoughts? Oh, they were loud. Suddenly, I remembered every awkward thing I’d ever said at a party. Relived every embarrassing moment from middle school. Thank you, sensory deprivation, for unlocking those hidden traumas!

I spent a good 20 minutes just trying to figure out if my nose was underwater. Minor detail, I know, but surprisingly distracting when you're supposed to be achieving inner peace.

And the dark? Pitch black. Which, again, is the point. But my imagination ran wild. Was there a monster in the tank? Was that my elbow, or a small child trying to climb in? I know, I know, totally irrational. But in the darkness, all bets are off. My senses, it turns out, are there for a reason. They keep me from believing I'm starring in my own low-budget horror film.

Relaxation: It's a Process, Not a Destination

Everyone raves about the relaxation. The deep, profound relaxation. The kind that makes you feel like you've just spent a week on a tropical island.

Look, I'm not saying I wasn't relaxed. I was. Eventually. After the initial panic about the darkness, the salt, and the possible monsters. After I stopped worrying about accidentally swallowing half the Dead Sea. After my brain finally decided to stop replaying my entire life's blooper reel.

But the relaxation? It felt…earned. Like I’d fought for it. Conquered my inner demons (or at least negotiated a temporary truce). It wasn't the effortless, instant bliss everyone promised. It was more like a hard-won victory.

Maybe I just need to go more often. Maybe I'll eventually learn to embrace the sensory deprivation and the salt. Maybe the next time, the monsters will stay away. But for now, I'm sticking to my unpopular opinion: floating at True Rest Float Spa is...an experience. One I'm glad I tried. But I'm also glad to be back on dry land, with my senses intact, and a glass of water (hold the salt!).

And hey, maybe you'll love it. Maybe you'll achieve instant enlightenment and become one with the universe. But if you don't? At least you'll have a good story to tell. And maybe a slightly salty complexion. Just remember that showering is key.

So, San Diego, are you ready to brave the salt and the silence? Let me know what your experience is like. I'll be here, hydrating and avoiding dark rooms.