When we were at the lake, we decided to spend a day doing the ropes course at a nearby ski resort.
Before they let you loose on the course, they run you through a bunch of two-feet-off-the-ground trial stations to teach you how to properly hook in and out. One of them required one to swing, Tarzan-like, from one platform to the next on a length of rope. I hooked in, grabbed the rope, stabilized myself (or, so I thought) and stepped off the platform, only to feel something go PING! in my left shoulder.
It wasn’t a debilitating pain, but I knew I’d popped something. Still, I was able to manage the rest of the course, though I spent most of the next day taking Advil and babying that shoulder. Three days later, I needed to teach my Sunday yoga classes, and I began each class by telling the participants that I was going to be following my own #1 rule of “if it hurts, it’s bad.” I managed to make it through the classes, but it was not at all comfortable.
A girlfriend who takes my classes is also a nurse, and she came to me after the second class to do a little diagnosis. She was initially afraid I’d hurt my rotator cuff, but the ways in which I could move the shoulder made her revise her opinion that I’d just done something to a tendon. She advised me to go home, take an anti-inflamatory I have in my medicine cabinet, and be gentle to it for a while.
In about 24 hours, I went from a 7 or 8 on my pain scale to a 3. I’ve been careful with it all week, and while it’s still a little twinge-y, but I was able to get into a decent downward dog this morning.