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!