Arm Bummed.

Like an insolent child testing his parents, I've been perpetually evaluating the limits of my lame arm.

Impatience is trumping prudence.

My arm doesn't hurt all the time. No, I won't go see my doctor. It twinges with pain, from time to time, when I'm doing fairly, normal activities: picking up a book, handing a pen to someone, putting my coat on. Generally, when my arm is extended outward, bearing it's weight or locking out, contracting the tricep, there's pain. No, I won't go see my doctor. Forget additional weight, pain is guaranteed. No, I won't see my doctor. Although… I do have a new year's worth of physical therapy sessions…still… no… I won't.

Today, my arm's still a little sore, stiff. Probably is a muscle strain. The radiating pain makes it difficult to pinpoint.

In the gym, I have been tempted to move weight around, to loosen up. Stretching isn't helping… can't seem to hit that part of the muscle. grumble. frustrating. After my cardio this morning, I figured I'd do some tricep extensions. I'd reluctantly convinced myself not to since time did not permit.

Whine.

Groan.

Sorry.

I'm bummed. I was making progress. I'm annoyed by this setback. Sigh.
My arm won't stay lame forever but patience is a hard thing to do.

I'll have to keep telling myself, "This is a rest phase."

Update: Tying my shoe, I jerked the lace tight. It hurt. Ow.