I didn’t expect frozen shoulder to shape my entire movement life. But here I am, years later, still noticing the aftershocks in my workouts, my choices, and even my confidence. Today I want to walk through what happened, what I learned, and why this experience affects the way I train now.
Before I get into it, if you’re following along with my 30-day podcast challenge, thank you. This project has taken me through more emotions and memories than I expected, and frozen shoulder is one of the big ones.
If you’re enjoying these reflections, you can subscribe here so you don’t miss the next one.
The First Frozen Shoulder: The Pain I Didn’t Have a Name For
My first frozen shoulder came out of nowhere during one of the most chaotic work periods of my life. I was traveling around China doing speaking exams, dragging suitcases up staircases, through narrow alleys, and across cities. I was barely a year out from a hysterectomy, my core was weak, and honestly, I was just not in great shape.
One day my right shoulder simply… stopped working. The pain was excruciating, the kind that shoots down your arm. And I had no idea what it was. The first practitioner I saw didn’t know either. He kept pushing me to stretch, to expand my range of motion, to “loosen it up.”
Except frozen shoulder doesn’t loosen up. Not in stage one.
And pushing through stage one can actually cause permanent damage.
No one told me that.
No one even mentioned frozen shoulder.
No one warned me that stage one is the dangerous stage.
I kept trying to move it anyway, thinking the pain was some weird travel strain. It wasn’t. I was in perimenopause and didn’t know it. My hormones were swinging. My movements were extreme. My stress level was off the charts. Looking back, it was the perfect storm.
Eventually, another practitioner recognized the pattern, gave me a name, and once I had that name, I could finally search, learn, adjust, and calm down.
The Second Frozen Shoulder: At Least I Knew the Rules This Time
Years later, I got frozen shoulder again, the left one this time. I felt defeated. I knew exactly what it was as soon as the pain started. I also knew how long it might last. And I knew I was in for a multi-year setback.
But this time, I had strategies:
an ice pack next to the bed
a gentler routine
better questions for practitioners
more awareness of what not to do
permission to stop pushing
The second one was still miserable, but I didn’t panic. I didn’t overextend. And I didn’t injure myself trying to fix it.
Even so, it took years. Frozen shoulder is slow. You don’t rush it. You wait, you protect, and you move only when it’s truly safe to move, in stage two or three, never in stage one.
How It Changed My Movement Plans
Frozen shoulder forced me to confront just how much I depended on my arms for everything. That sounds obvious now, but until you have very limited range of motion for years, you don’t realize how many micro-movements make up a day:
reaching behind to close a bra
lifting a small suitcase
pulling a door
stretching your arms overhead
getting jolted on a bus and grabbing the rail
leaning on an elbow in bed
These tiny actions become impossible. Not hard, not uncomfortable, impossible.
So yes, frozen shoulder changed my exercise plans in huge ways:
1. I had to stop almost everything I loved doing.
Pilates was impossible. Lifting anything beyond a water bottle was impossible. Even gentle mobility exercises were out of reach.
2. I became hyper-aware of my form.
Even now, I focus on posture and alignment more than I ever did before.
3. I refuse to “push through pain.”
That phrase lost all meaning for me. Pushing can do real damage. This is when the line between soreness and pain became super clear to me. There was no ambiguity with frozen shoulder in stage 1. That was pain!
4. I learned to be patient with my body.
Not in a cute, inspirational-quote way. In a real, frustrated, sit-on-the-floor-and-breathe way.
5. I treat movement like a long-term relationship.
It’s honest. It requires checking in. It demands adaptation. It rewards consistency, not bravado.
Even today, one shoulder still has less range than the other. I’m close to full mobility, but not quite there. And that’s okay. I’m finally strong enough, flexible enough, and aware enough to train around it.
The Mindset Shift That Surprised Me
Frozen shoulder didn’t just challenge my body. It challenged my identity.
I had to learn that being limited didn’t make me fragile or weak. It made me human. And it made my movement journey a lot more thoughtful. Every time I pick up a weight, I’m paying attention. Every time I reach overhead, I’m grateful. Every time I stretch, I’m aware of how far I’ve come.
These limitations taught me what many midlife practitioners don’t say clearly enough:
Movement is a conversation, not a command.
If something hurts, I listen.
If something feels off, I slow down and listen.
If something feels good, I lean in gently.
It’s a slower approach, but it’s also sustainable — and honestly, it’s made me a better physical human.
Dumbbells I’ve Been Using in This Phase
During this 30-day movement challenge, I’ve switched dumbbells weight while I rebuild strength and protect my shoulders. I was using 2.5 kilogram weights when I started but when we moved I switched to 1.5 kg weights. The 2.5 was too much right now. I could only do 1/2 the reps in the video I was following. And I could not focus on form, which is really important to me. The most important aspect, in fact.
If you’re working on stability, form, or recovering from an injury, these smaller weights are incredibly useful:
If you’re in the US, click here for dumbbell recommendations
If you’re in the EU, click here.
If you’re anywhere else, please let me know and I’ll add that region to the list.
If you want to support my work, using these links helps, and I appreciate it.
our Bodies can
Frozen shoulder changed my plans, but it didn’t end them. It slowed me down, reset me, and taught me to take my body seriously — especially in midlife, especially when the information is confusing, inconsistent, or simply wrong.
my Body can do far more than I realized.
Your body can too.
We just have to know when to move, when to rest, and who to trust.
Thanks for being here with me through these movement reflections.
If you’d like to keep following this journey, you can subscribe here.
See ya tomorrow,
Steph
AI disclaimer:
I use ChatGPT to co-write many of my online texts. Having said that, for these Substack posts we start with the podcast transcript. A transcript that comes from a recording that I create alone, with zero AI assistance. I also prompt chain and edit like hell during and after the cowriting process, so I have to admit that I have no idea where my writing begins and Chatty (my affectionate name for ChatGPT) ends. So take with this as you wish. I just wanted you to know that some of the eloquence here is in fact from me but not me exactly.
