The air is cold just like it should be in January.  I take note of the small wisps of condensed breath rising into the illuminated view from my head lamp.

It’s 6pm and pitch black as I run the loop around Ponkapoag Lake in Milton’s Blue Hills reservation.

I feel proud.

This is new for me – Winter running.  In previous years, I’d do a bit in the winter – sometimes – but no real training.  Certainly, no trail running on unpredictable ice and snow.

Definitely, none of this would happen at night.

However, things have changed recently in my mind.  There’s been a shift.  I want to trail run most days now.

I need to get out into the woods – Into the quiet. Elevate my heart rate and gulp down the forest air.  Rain, snow, cold – It doesn’t deter me

So here I am on the trail and loving it.  Big plans swirl in my mind – New goals on the dirt for 2014:

A double traverse of the Skyline Trail here in Blue Hills (18 miles)

A trail marathon or 50k

New Hampshire’s Pemi Loop. (31 miles)

There are others.

Excited and inspired, I pick up the pace.  Seeing a clear, smooth fall line among the snow and ice at the trail’s edges, I surge.

I’ve got good foundation miles in my legs and now I want to get faster.

I want to run at speed.

100 yards turns to 200.  I keep steady.  I keep the elevated pace.

Then it happens.

In almost a cartoonish boingggggggg – My calf strains.

I feel it immediately.

It’s not terrible, but something that I can’t continue to run on.

Muscle strains are nothing new to me.  I have a tenuous relationship with my hamstrings.  Last summer I pulled a muscle in my quad for no apparent reason….

…..But, the calves? – I thought we were friends – that it was all good.

Not so much because 6 weeks later, I’m still dealing with this.  Rest, yoga, ice, Tiger Balm – Compression sleeves arrive tomorrow.   I’m trying it all.

Being injured sucks.  I mean it SUCKS!  And I’m not really even a Type A.  I can’t imagine what those people go through.

The missed days getting my stamina primed for what, in my mind, is supposed to be the best running year of my life, is tough.  My patience is waning.

“I was doing so well. “

I say this out loud just about every day.

Getting to the next level is something that I always thought about and it was in sight at the beginning of this year.  Now it’s fading into the horizon.

Whenever I get stressed, overwhelmed, or just feel like life is breaking me down. I always think back to Thanksgiving 1994 at O’Hare airport.

I was 24 years old, just out of college, and had moved to Chicago. I was struggling with my first real job out of school and taking night classes to help. Finals were coming up and I was anxious about getting the work done before the semester ended in less than a month. It was the beginnings of a Chicago winter – Grey and gloomy. Still new to the city, I only had a couple of friends – acquaintances really.

I was a bit down. Down professionally. Down socially. Student loans had kicked in so I was down financially.

All this negativity was banging off the walls of my mind.

It wasn’t despair, just melancholy.

I was at the airport to catch a flight back to Boston to be with my family for the holiday.

Then, while walking to the gate, I saw this guy. A handicapped guy around 50 years old on crutches and struggling with each step to move through the concourse.

I mean he was straining with each forward lunge of his crutches and legs. He was legitimately compromised and clearly should have been in a wheelchair.

But, you could see he was doggedly determined to do this using his arms and legs and not cash in his pride to roll easily.

This scene struck me and all my self-loathing dissipated. It just vanished.

All I could think was:

At least I can walk to the gate.

I realized, I didn’t have any problems. All that shit bringing me down was so manageable and would pass.

That guy’s problems were much more serious, more challenging and would be with him always.  He had his head up and was moving forward.  Gaining on his destination. Working hard and asking for no favors.

That image is still with me today. Anytime I feel down – anytime I feel like a victim, I think of that moment.

You have no real problems.

So my little calf strain is of no consequence. I know that I’ll run again and run well. It may take another month or maybe the rest of the year.

So what!

I’ll just work at it, be patient, and the healing will happen.

Being able-bodied is a privilege I think we all take for granted. I know I do. When my physical self won’t let me do what I want when I want, I have to remember that it’s a gift to be as healthy as I am.

I have to remember that I can easily walk to the gate at the airport.