My Gastrocnemius

Disclaimer:  This story is completely unrelated to Ghana, but this my blog, so whatever.

My calf has incurred more physical trama in the last few weeks than a person's calf should ever in an entire lifetime.

The first incident... it was one drizzly April morning after a big storm the night before.  I was leaving the house to head to work.  If you've never been to my house, you must understand that I have a very long driveway; the house is in the middle of a country block.  So, I drove past the fields, around the corner, and by the woods where the honeysuckle and blackberries grow... there is was. There was a large tree down across the driveway, that I suppose was knocked down the evening before in the storm.  It was blocking almost the entire width of the driveway and was approximately 22 inches in diameter.  In addition to the larger log blocking my way, there were also 2 smaller trees (or maybe they were originally part of the big tree, there is no telling) across the driveway approximately 8 inches in diameter.

What happened at this point in the story I cannot explain.  I got my gym clothes out of the back, changed right there in the driveway, and had at the logs.  I decided first to take on the smaller logs.  So I picked up the end of one over my should and started dragging it to the edge of the driveway and into the woods.  Success.  I approached the other smaller log.  It was Y-shaped.  I went about removal in the same way, but this time when I got it to the edge of the driveway, I dropped it.  I dropped it right on my left calf.  A little nub of the log got me in the calf like I've never been gotten before.  So I sat down and inspected my wound.  1) It was awesome, 2) My calf hurt like heck.

The second incident... Our story continues some 2.5 weeks later, when I decided to go for a harmless run, a route I've run so many times before.  From Dad's house to the old grave yard is approximately 1.5 miles, so roundtrip you get a nice 5k. I run down the road, over the interstate, and toward the graveyard.  At this point I'm on pace to run a 22 minute 5k. I was feeling good.  In my ears, I had on LMAFO... Loud.  Which was partially the problem, because then it happened.  With no warning what-so-ever, a sharp stinging pain hit my left calf.  I turned back to see a big angry yellow dog, unclamp its yapper from my poor tattered calf.  I thought, "Are you kidding, this means I have to stop running."  Then the blood started.  Also, my blood looks like cherry Kool Aid, like in a grade D horror film (see below). I hobbled to the nearest house, a nice old lady took me inside and cleaned up my leg.  Whatever she used was blue, smelly, and stung worse than "Jakey"s fangs.  Then we got in her boat-sized black Caddy and she drove me home.

 I might have bled all over her kitchen floor, but her damn dog ruined my run.  And my calf.  This thing is going to be sore for another 2 weeks.  I am POed!

I don't go running in my Nikes... I go bleeding.