Physical fitness comes to a screeching halt
I completely messed up my shoulder last week, Like, make-noise-and-almost-pass-out messed up. The deep hope is that it's just a bad sprain (or strain - what is the difference between the two anyway?) and I am too much of a stoic (or an idiot) to go to the doctor for a "take two advil and call me in the morning" diagnosis.
The hike was totally worth it. 12,600 feet up on our first day in Colorado.
I sacrificed a pair of shorts on the way down; the entire descent was done on my rear end.
Better than blowing out another knee. Or re-tearing my meniscus.
But the traverse across the snow-covered bowl, after an hour (at least) of tricep work and crab crawling? One misstep, one failure to stomp super hard? Resulted in a crash.
And I have been a T-rex ever since. Progress is happening - last week I could not lift the arm more than 2 inches, and today I'm at about a foot of height.
Still, things like planks and burpees and even weird dance moves or kick boxing are not possible. Bummer.
So what is a woman to do?
I could crawl into a corner and cry. I could toss my hands up and yell, "Bring on all the wine!" I could revert completely to couch-potato ways (hey, I think Wimbledon is on. Anyone have cable they'd share?)
But instead? I'm focusing on my internal fitness. The nutrition piece. The mental piece. I've got 21 days until Nashville, where I will meet up with my entire fit family for a 4 day blowout of learning, laughter, and lots of lines. That's plenty of time for a reset of my food intake, as well as a couple of good books to read.
Add in 10,000 steps and a round of AbRipperX each day and I'll be in great shape for Nashville.
Bring on my sail. Let's go!