I’m Kayla, and I actually made this. Many times. I’ll tell you what worked for me, what bugged me, and a few funny bits I learned the hard way.
(If you’d like an additional step-by-step look at the whole mixing process, this hands-on DIY magnesium spray tutorial lines up almost exactly with what I did.)
Why I Tried It
I started making magnesium spray last summer during 10K training. My calves cramped at night. My sleep felt choppy. A friend said, “Try magnesium on your skin.” I rolled my eyes. But I was tired enough to try anything.
You know what? It helped me. Not like a magic switch. More like, softer edges on a hard day.
What I Made, Plain and Simple
“Magnesium oil” isn’t oil. It’s a salty water mix that feels slick. I used magnesium chloride flakes (I used Ancient Minerals and also a cheaper bulk bag), warm distilled water, and a clean glass spray bottle.
- First batch: 1 cup flakes to 1 cup water. Strong stuff.
(If you’d appreciate a photo-rich walkthrough of this exact 1:1 method, the guide at Desert Naturals matches what I did almost step-for-step.) - Later for less sting: 2 cups water to 1 cup flakes. Much kinder on skin.
I added a tiny splash of aloe gel in one bottle. I tried one drop of lavender in another. The aloe felt nice. The lavender smelled like a calm evening. Both were easy adds.
Cost note: One medium bag of flakes cost me about $15 and made roughly ten small bottles. Store bottles where I live run $12 each. So yeah, the math made me smile. My penny-pinching tally echoed the breakdown from Don’t Waste The Crumbs, which made me feel even better about skipping the pricey store option.
As I tallied up those savings, it struck me that sometimes “free” or “cheapest” isn’t actually the smartest play—especially when quality matters. The same idea pops up in tech: relying on a no-cost webcam for an important call can leave you with jagged video, bad lighting, and plenty of frustration. You can see a clear breakdown of that trade-off in InstantChat’s article "Why free webcams just don't cut it" for a quick gut check on when spending a little more delivers way better results.
Real-Life Tests (Not Just In My Head)
- The 2 a.m. cramp test: I woke with a calf knot. I did 6 sprays, rubbed it in, paced the hallway, and winced at the tingle. About 10 minutes later, the tight ball eased, and I fell back asleep.
- Pre-run test: 5 sprays on each calf and quad. Legs felt warm and ready. But under leggings, the salty film got sticky. I learned to spray, wait 10 minutes, then wipe the extra.
- Bedtime routine: 8 sprays on feet and 6 on my belly. Socks on. Book open. I felt my body settle. Sleep came smoother most nights.
- After-shave mistake: Don’t do this. I sprayed my shins right after shaving. Fire ants. I yelped, then laughed, then rinsed it off. Lesson learned.
- Desk day shoulders: I sprayed my neck after a long meeting. A little itchy, then a loose, warm feeling. Not a cure, just relief.
One night of nonstop dancing can pound on my calves as hard as a speed workout. If you’re anywhere near Morgantown and want to test that theory under the club lights, the event calendar at Tryst Morgantown lets you scope out upcoming DJ sets, theme nights, and drink specials so you can plan a fun evening out—and be ready with your magnesium spray for the post-party muscle perks once you’re back home.
The Good Stuff
- It’s cheap and fast to make.
- The feel is slick but dries quick if I don’t overdo it.
- The aloe mix left my skin happier.
- I sleep better most nights when I use it.
- A small bottle in my gym bag came in clutch after hill repeats.
The Stuff I Didn’t Love
- It can sting, especially on dry skin or scratches.
- It leaves a salty film. Black leggings show it. Oops.
- Some spray tops clog. I switched to a better mister.
- It’s not a “bam, no more cramps ever” fix. It’s more like a helper.
- My friend with very sensitive skin? She hated the tingle and uses a lotion instead.
How I Tweaked My Mix
- For less sting: 2 parts warm water, 1 part flakes.
- For calmer skin: 1 tablespoon aloe gel per small bottle.
- For a mild scent: one drop lavender. No more, or it’s too much.
- For comfort: spray, wait 20 minutes, then rinse before bed if the salt bugs me.
- For travel: tiny glass bottle with a fine mist sprayer, packed in a zip bag.
Let me explain one odd thing: the tingle made me think it was “too strong,” so I watered it down. Then I worried it wouldn’t “work.” But for me, the lighter mix actually kept me using it every night. So it worked better because I stuck with it. Funny how that goes.
For more troubleshooting ideas and DIY tips, I found the concise guides over at Service Center Team super helpful.
Seasonal Surprise
Summer sweat plus spray can burn a bit. I spray less in hot months or rinse after. Winter skin is drier, so I add aloe and moisturize after use. That small switch kept me from scratching. Hot months also got me thinking about sun protection; spoiler: I once dove into a DIY sunscreen experiment and learned a few lessons there too.
Does It Actually Work? My Honest Take
For me, yes. My legs cramp less. My sleep got steadier. I feel calmer in my body at night. But my neighbor tried the same bottle and said, “Nope, too itchy.” Skin is personal. Bodies are quirky. I’d test a small patch first and adjust from there. A good reminder that this is just my own experience—not medical advice; here’s a lighthearted fictional first-person review that echoes the same sentiment about keeping things safe.
My Quick Recipe (From My Notebook)
- Warm 1 cup distilled water.
- Stir in 1/2 cup magnesium chloride flakes till clear.
- Cool. Pour into a clean glass spray bottle.
- Optional: 1 teaspoon aloe gel, 1 drop lavender.
- Spray 5–10 times on legs, feet, or belly. Rub in. Wait 10–20 minutes. Rinse if sticky.
Final Verdict
I give my DIY magnesium spray a solid 4 out of 5. It’s easy. It’s cheap. It helps my sleep and my cranky calves. The sting is real, but fixable with a gentler mix and a rinse.
Would I keep making it? Yep. I’ve got a fresh bottle on my nightstand right now. And a backup in the gym bag—because cramps love to show up when you’re not ready, don’t they?
—Kayla Sox