Olympian? or Paralympian?

So Stephanie has decided to go ahead with the Knitting Olympics. I'm not sure how she does it, with her schedule, especially seeing the project she has chosen, Whistler. (Man, what a freakingly beautiful sweater!)
As much as I will compete in the Olympics this year (I mean, really, they are the OLYMPICS, and they are in Canada - something I am immensely proud of), I will not be making a Dale of Norway sweater in 14 days.

The Rules of the Knitting Olympics are basically to pick a project that will challenge you - that will make you feel like you have really WON a gold medal.

Now, under normal circumstances, finishing the cashmere shawl for my MIL, would not seem like a challenging task for me. I could do this without too much effort.

I have a ball and a half of yarn left to knit, and I plan on extending this shawl to use as much of the yarn as I can.

Here's where the challenge comes in:

My doctor has splinted me again, when my tendinitis flared last week, making it look like my left wrist swallowed a baseball. And I'm left handed. (The wrist swelling has gone down a bit, but you can still it it in my fingers. Note to self - remove rings at first sign of swelling - those babies aren't going anywhere for a while.)

So, I may actually be competing in the Paralympic Games this year. Or I'm going to be the Knitting Olympics version of Brian McKeever - not that I would ever, ever put myself in his class. A legally blind cross country skier competing in not only the Paralympic, but the Olympic Games. And he's Canadian. I consider him to be a role model for anyone, blind or fully sighted. But he's competing with a disadvantage, as am I.

So, here's my Olympic project: Finish the shawl (because I'm on a deadline for it as well - I really want to get it to MIL while she has a need for it, not just a want). And to do it without totally messing up my wrist. (I figure if I can type this with the splint, I can do some knitting). I'll make it interesting as well - I will put the shawl aside this week until Friday night, when the Opening ceremonies begin. We'll be in the car for the beginning, heading to the cottage for a long weekend (Monday is a holiday here in Ontario). We should be there in time to see the torch being lit, which is always a tearjerker moment for me (favourite lighting? Hands down, the archer in Barcelona - too cool). The few says off should also give my wrist enough of a rest to enable me to make those pesky "slip two as if to knit, K1, psso" stitches, which seem to turn my wrist unnaturally.

And no, the tendinitis was probably not fully caused by knitting - there has been some aggressive basketball playing recently, and parts of me are realizing that at 47, I can't do what a 20 year old version of myself once did. Crap. Aging sucks.