I Scream, You Scream.

Ever as a kid, or an adult for that matter, get the feeling like when you step away from the ice cream truck with your yummy 3 scoop cone and sprinkles in hand, turn around and *plop* the ice cream hits the grass.  You are out of cash, ice cream guy is not gonna help you out, you're just done.  Think for a brief second that you can salvage the grass, ant, dirt, worm, stone ice cream that is melting by the second.  Then you realize it as a fruitless effort and want to sit on the curb and wallow in what has been lost.
That was me Thursday.  Maybe not quite as dramatic, but sad still.  Got home, had some dinner with my ladies, played a bit, then we got the little ones ready for bed.  My wife, after putting the youngest to sleep, comes in to relieve me of the duties of the eldest so I can run.  I get my gear on, grab the iPod for music, the phone for map my run, and toss on the sneaks.  I know 2 pieces of technology so I can run.  Listen, the iPod doesn't work without internet connection for Map My Run and the phone doesn't have an armband so I can use it for music....yet.  I'm out the door.  I do a little warm up, then a bit of a stretch and, I'm off.
Today I am going to try for 3 miles.  I mapped it out earlier, ready to move to the next point in my running.  Actually feeling pretty good.  I figured that since today was the day I decided to move to the next marker I wouldn't be "feeling" this run.  Nope, I am good.  A decent pace, a nice May eve, not even thinking about the real big hill that will be near the end of my run, just flowing.  I like.
*PLOP*  Actually more of a pop.  For no reason I can fathom, an odd pop/twinge happens in my calf.  Didn't mis-step, didn't hit a hole, just put my foot down as I had been for the past half mile.  I'm not in writhing pain, I don't crumble to the pavement.  I just stop, wait, hope.  I know it's not going to change, but there is a chance, it didn't feel too bad.  I take a couple of steps, lightly, testing.  Nope, I'm done running.  I stand at the side of the road, feel that ice cream on ground on a hot summers day disappointment and turn to walk the same half mile I just ran home.  I'm limping a bit, nothing horrible, nothing career ending.  (It's at this time I send what I think a clever text to my wife about the new app I found for my phone, it's called Map My Limp.  I didn't get the response I thought from it.  She and others I have told didn't really even chuckle.  I found it fairly amusing).
I get home, assess the damage.  A little sore near the bottom of the calf.  Not horrible when I walk, I am favoring it a bit though.  Not too bad, maybe it will pass quicker than I thought.  Right about this point I start cursing that we have so many stairs in our home.  Seems that flat terrain is good, not to much strain.  On the other hand, the motion of up or down the stairs has turned me into a toddler.  I am one stepping the stairs.  Yeah, a bit more pain there.  Again, I think I will survive, just disappointment, I am really enjoying this running thing.
It seems better today, still sore, still right there.  I can walk a bit better without the pirate limp.  I can almost walk the stairs like a big boy.  Now I just have to rest it and let it heal.  I just have a small bit of fear waiting for when I decide it's time to run again.  How long will it be into this run when my calf plays pop goes the weasel.  Great, now that's running through my head.  At least I can take solace in the fact 1 if not more of you will be joining me in that.  You're welcome.
Just another hurdle in the quest to become a real live runner.  As in any activity there are injury possibilities.  I accept that.  I am just used to having someone crash into me to cause pain and put me on I.R.  So, I will take care of my leg while I sit less than patient until I can reclaim the roads near home.  Don't be sad for me, I'll be back out there soon.
A special note, in case I don't get back on.  Happy Mothers Day to those of you that are Mothers and a reminder to those that have forgotten, it's Sunday.    -Joel