Bob is the massage therapist I am seeing here in Florida for my feet. He is not Heather, it would be sorta like trying to be Baby Boy. He has helped me keep my feet in a state where I am able to continue to train, get my miles in and still walking without a limp.
That certainly makes him a Boy Wonder.
I saw him last night. I asked him not to freak as I showed him the big ass blister on the top of my foot. He was incredulous that I could put a running shoe on and get 7 miles in without popping it. I had.
He is so sweet, he said "You just wanted to make my job harder." 10 minutes into working on my right foot, the blister popped. It popped with such force that the fluid from it ended up on my left ankle. It didn't hurt at all. He was lucky he was on my right side, otherwise he might have gotten a face full.
This morning, the fluid has started to refill and my foot is tender on the bottom, not on the top. No running today, just a mall crawl planned, with Amy and my mom.
I must be a bad golf fan. I just discovered that The Tour Championship isn't until next week. I had planned on having a great Sunday watching Baby Boy pull off a miracle. I will have to wait until next weekend.
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