Six Months

I've been at my new job for six months tomorrow. It's been a pretty good experience overall, and I think I have mostly moved beyond the intense perfectionistic stress of the first few post-training months into a place where I know what I'm doing more often than not. I've changed direct supervisors and that person seems much more on my wavelength as far as learning and working styles go, so that helps. Learning software that is NOT intuitive in the *least* is still my hardest task, and I think I'm improving my decision-making skills. I don't require constant review of everything I write anymore, and I've been 'released' to send reviews to doctors without sending to my direct supervisor first. And the Virginia Disability Determination Services as a whole won a national award, so we all got 4 hours of extra leave. Sometimes state jobs are nice.

The things I still don't love are being indoors all. day. long. Sitting for hours. Getting completely sucked into the detail-oriented work and realized three hours have gone by without me leaving my chair. The regular 8 hour day schedule. Making less money than I did previously. Not being in a management position for the first time in ten or more years.

I realized this week that I actually have less money now than when I was working last year. I didn't have to pay for child care last year. I didn't have a new car. I didn't go out for lunch because I was too much of a slacker to make my lunch the night before. And I was, even at my hourly rate, actually making a higher salary. Now it feels like most things are a squeeze. I should get a raise in September, and another one a year later, though. And some expenses, like child care, should fall off next year, along with one of the car payments.

It was, and has been, really tough to give up my working-from-home/stay-at-home-mom gig. Economic necessity (and by that I mean, maintaining the lifestyle we had) required it. I'm not 'brave' or particularly noteworthy for doing it, though. It was just a fact of circumstances, and I would rather struggle personally with my changed circumstances than struggle to provide activities and experiences for the kids, and riding and horses for myself and Wren.

I'm off today, and so I have had the ability to put a kid on the bus, make pizza dough from scratch for tonight's dinner, take care of some details for an upcoming horse show I am the volunteer coordinator for, and, yes, get out to the barn and get a ride in. Then I will make homemade pizza for dinner, and head to the museum to give a tour this evening. If I feel really ambitious, I'll vacuum the floors, maybe. It's nice to get a break in the week, but I will be back at work tomorrow. I'm just glad the time change is this weekend so heading to ride after work doesn't mean an intense race against the sun.

Reflections on language

In reflecting on my fabulous ride in my lesson this evening, I realize that the process of coaching a rider develops its own organic language to communicate concepts and ideas and directions, much like all the choreographers I've ever worked with use to explain rhythm and dance steps.

 I have long been used to hearing things like "Ah-ya-da-da, ya-da-da, one, two, turn, stomp" or "reach and... reach and... bum bum bum, kick step flick". In the studio, the rehearsal hall, on the stage in performance preparation, all dancers are familiar with the verbal salad that defines the choreography. So much so, that a specific combination of words and sounds will almost always result in the ability to execute the same set of dance steps, without music, at any time in the future.

 I remember the verbal-visual descriptions I heard throughout my dance training that were designed to help me refine steps or posture. Things like "lift your ribcage out of your hips", or "hold your arms up from your back, not your biceps", or "explode off the floor [in a leap]".

 Now, as a rider learning the ballet-like discipline of dressage, I hear similar types of coaching from my trainers. There's not as much word salad, thank goodness, but the visual descriptions are often so applicable that I can turn the words into action and into a betterment of my posture, riding technique, and Joe's way of going.

 For example, postural corrections I often hear these days include "no chicken wings!" when I need to keep my elbows close to my hips. Sometimes I just get chicken-clucking noises from my coach. I hear "slide your shoulder blades down your back", and "connect your shoulders to his hips", and "move his shoulders over with your knee".

 I also occasionally hear "steer with your boobs!", which is a correction to think of turning my upper body when I turn my horse. Shoulders like a queen, hips like....well, never mind.

 The concept of pushing the girth over with my leg, pushing his withers over, moving his shoulders over has been significantly helpful in getting the correct technique to keep Joe bending and turning through corners and on a circle.

 Tonight, the gem I really needed was " you're a soil scientist, studying the soil right in front of Joe's [inside] foot". It seems an exceedingly odd thing to say, but it made so much sense that whenever my instructor said "soil scientist" for the rest of the lesson, I knew exactly what to do to get Joe down and round and forward. And it worked, nearly every single time!

 And sometimes, I'd hear "lower his neck", and I could apply the half-halt I needed to get him to come more round.

 It was truly fun, physically and mentally demanding lesson. Lots of attention to detail, lots of minute-to-minute learning. I think we did a respectable job, and I feel like I have had a fantastic total-body workout. My brain is filing away all the phrases and concept for our next ride. The challenge is always to be able to repeat it all the next time I am in the saddle.

Thoughts on transitions

At the beginning of September, 2016, I went back to work full time. I haven't had a full time, out-of-the-home job in just about ten years -- the entire length of my youngest child's life thus far. Up to that point, I had worked part time from home for a company I had been a part of for the entirety of my time here in Richmond. Fifteen years. But in 2016, due to the aging of the company's owners, and the volatile market for health care provider agencies, the company was sold. My work appealing denials of payment for therapy services was not required by the new company, and I was laid off. The first time ever in my life I was let go from a professional job. By the end of the summer, though, I had found a new job, and began that work with a little bit of trepidation. It was full time, outside of the home. The kids would need before-school care, and the ability to let themselves into the house after school. I would no longer be able to run errands for the family, make daytime appointments easily, take time off without too much consideration, and be able to go to the kids' school for awards ceremonies, lunches, or to pick up a sick kid without a re-arranging of my day. I'd have to switch my volunteer work schedule at the museum to all-evening or weekend work.

And I would no longer have the ability to ride in the mornings, to have most days be available to spend a couple hours at the barn after my work was done, riding, helping out, and frankly, being with my friends. I know that sounds like a total first-world problem, and it is. But it was a life I had finally been able to craft for myself, in which I contributed financially to the family, took care of the kids, some house stuff, and our animals, and left time for me to pursue interests that had been gnawing at me for years.

Now, it's not all bad, and I don't mean to complain too much. I mean to reflect a little, and try to make some decisions about how my life is going to go in this new reality in which most everyone else already participates. I like my job, it suits me, and I like my coworkers, even though I am struggling to learn a new and very complex role in which I am no longer the authority figure. It's a state job, so the benefits are fantastic, and I do have some flexibility for appointments, sick kids, and the like. Also -- state holidays!

I generally am not an afternoon or evening person, though, so it's been very difficult for me to remain motivated by the end of a long sedentary day to get my ass out to the barn. I struggle with guilt over leaving my family to fend for themselves in the evenings I ride, and for Travis to have to deal with kid drama as it arises, or the function as the inevitable kid shuttle service to activities.

I find myself struggling with guilt over work when I take a sick day to be home with a kid who needs me, and the guilt when I notice I am thinking if I can possibly schedule some riding time into the sick day without abandoning my kid. Good Parent Guilt never goes away, no matter how old your kids are.

I'm not riding well consistently enough, and show season is coming up in a month. Joe needs to work consistently in order for me to be able to overcome his innate inflexibility, and my general lack of technique. I have goals I want to achieve this year, as always, but finances are tight and time is even tighter. I'm cramming the same number of activities and obligations into MUCH less time, and frankly, I have not yet found a weekly rhythm that I am comfortable with. To top it all off, it's winter, which means my hibernation instincts are strong on grey days, my mental health takes a hit (seasonal, and because of my 'new' life), and the afternoon/evening post-work window for daylight riding is small.

Things will improve; the days will stay lighter longer soon, it won't always be cold and grey (soon I'll be bitching because it's too fucking hot to ride), my kids will grow and become more independent, obligations may change that will make schedules change, and this dressage journey I am on is a long-haul sort of thing. Having the faith that I just need to keep plugging away and do what I can do each day is tough for me, goal-directed and ambitious as I can be. Nobody's pushing me but me. Well, my trainers push me, and my friends encourage me, but nobody is *pressuring* me, I should say.

I hope I figure this thing out soon. I love my guy Joe, and I love to ride, and the best thing that has happened to me in the last four years outside of family stuff has been finding my tribe at Saddlebrook, along with "my" horse, trainers who suit me perfectly, and the atmosphere for myself and Wren to enjoy riding and learn at our pace. I just feel like most of the time I am giving not enough attention to everything. It's a hard place to be, and I dislike it.

If you've read this far, you're a saint. Mostly I'm talking to myself. It's Saturday, and there's nothing on the agenda, and my coffee cup is empty, so I think it's time to head out to the barn and refresh my soul, and get some air, and love on Joe.

Come to Jesus

So, Joe, who I have been riding since right before Christmas, and who I am now leasing for my training and competition mount this year, and who I spoke about in this post, well...he and I have been having a little difficulty seeing eye to eye on this whole work thing.

It's a challenge, sometimes, to handle a BIG guy who doesn't think you've got the stones to make him do the job he is signed up to do in this life. Given that he's rather opinionated as it is, and then he discovers his new regular rider is....me....coming off a bad fall with injury, and trying to get my balance and strength back, and learn the buttons to push to get Joe to work at the level he is capable of, well, sometimes it doesn't go as planned. Like anything with horses, really.

A few weeks ago, he started stating a very strong opinion about actually going forward when asked to do so by his rider. This opinion he made known by kicking out with one hind leg or another, and if the rider were persistent enough, he'd plant his front legs and throw in a huge buck. He declared working as a school horse to be completely out of the question, and then he decided that that short, middle-aged woman with the loud red hair was not possessed of the mettle necessary to convince him he really needed to do his job.

I started to worry maybe the universe was trying to tell me something, after a string of other mounts just didn't work out in a pretty persistent and obvious way. I started to worry that maybe he hated me, or that I was annoying him in some way, or that he was just not for me. Then, worse, I started to think that maybe I *didn't* have the stones necessary to be the pack leader, so to speak. Bucking isn't always a big deal, but it can escalate, and I've been bucked off enough to know how much it hurts, and how easily a horse can throw you off their back if they want to. THEN I started to worry about getting hurt again. Joe is HUGE, well over sixteen hands, and the distance from his back to the ground seems like falling off a building. But I knew that attitude, keeping that fear in my mind, would color every ride I took from here on out, no matter the mount.

And I don't want to be a timid rider. I don't see myself as someone who can or will just get on any horse at all, but neither do I want to be limited by my own brain to horses who don't have at least a little brilliance in them, if that makes any sense. So, with the help of my fabulous trainer, we set out to solve this issue. It took a team on Sunday, people cheering me on, encouraging me, my trainer getting on, a couple people to work with Joe on the longe line, and then me getting back in the saddle and reminding him how this whole situation was going to go. I got off after we did some nice work together, and although my legs were jelly with nerves, I knew I could handle him.

My weekly lesson was today, and my trainer warmed him up for me, through a couple of bucks and a bit of resistance. When I got on, I just grabbed mane and let him know I was running this show. One buck and a little bit of horsey whiny drama, and we were working together beautifully. It was incredible. I felt him just like I did back in December, before I got hurt, all smooth and rhythmic and forward. I could stay with him, sit up tall, hold my position, tell him where to go and how to arrange his feet and it was beyond wonderful. I could feel myself riding, really riding, instead of bracing for drama or getting flopped around like a sack.

My confidence shot up tremendously. I felt like I could ride and ride and ride forever. I can make plans for the show season now, and think about the things we will do together. One good come-to-Jesus meeting in the Church of the Arena, and we are well on our way. It turns out I *do* have the stones, and they are big ones. Today I (re)learned to never underestimate what I am capable of in the right setting.

I love this guy. 

Yep, Still Winter...

After more than a week off because of almost a foot of snow and frigid temperatures, I was back in the saddle today for my lesson. I was really glad I put the chemical heat packs in my boots because I did not once have to concern myself with frozen toes. You know it's cold, though, when I keep all my layers on, including my down vest, which I normally do not ride in. Too sweaty. But not today. It was maybe 20 degrees when I got tacked up and into the (indoor!) ring.

Joe is still wonderful. I love a big horse, I really do. And I think I do prefer geldings, even though sometimes their work ethic can be questionable. I know all my mare-loving friends always gush about how a mare will lay down her very soul for you sometimes, but maybe I haven't been riding the right mares, because I have never had that experience. Oh, I've had mares tolerate me and do what I asked only because they sighed heavily first and got on with it, and I've had mares scare the ever-loving hell out of me by telling me how the job is supposed to be done, regardless of my input, and I've had mares for whom the word 'consistent' just doesn't seem to be a part of their working vocabulary. The only consistent thing about some of the mares I have ridden was that I had no idea what kind of day it was going to be -- smooth, excellent working relationship, great work, or crazed terror, dump-you-on-the-ground-and run-like-hell, or hell no, I ain't doing any of that no matter what you say. That, for someone who likes to be prepared and organized, can be something of a nightmare, especially when riding alone, or going to a horse show.

Joe, though, he is consistent. He consistently kicks out if I use the whip too much or too hard. He pins his ears when I hug him around the neck (even though I have told him I'm a hugger and he'll just have to get used to it). He can get cranky and kick and buck (a little, nothing too major) when I ask him to do work, especially if he's not warmed up, or if I've taken too long of a walk break and he thinks we should be done. He can be stupidly spooky about really dumb things, but he doesn't run off in a panic.

But he's also consistently a beautiful mover with a lovely, easy to ride trot and canter. He understands his job, even if he doesn't always feel like doing it. He bends like he is on rails, and can cross his legs in the leg yielding as though he had ball bearings in his joints. He likes apples. He does listen to my voice and seems to like being talked to and sung to (poor Joe, I can't sing worth a damn). He enjoys having his picture taken and actually hams it up for Travis' camera.

Today's lesson gave me a few more insights into this guy. I realized the reason my reaction to all the pictures I have of me riding him has been "OMG, just shorten your reins!". He needs a lot more contact than I had been using. Today when I really asked for balance and flexion and attention, he gave it to me. And that outside rein? Yeah, that's the one that tells him to carry himself. We even worked on some trot lengthenings and actually got some glide. I sat through a tantrum and a period of backing up, and once I yelled at him, he actually got his act together and moved on. I feel like I turned a huge key in one of his locks today, and when I did, he was so gorgeous. Rideable, comfortable, smooth. I hope I can keep that key and find more. He really is fantastic. And I do know what to expect from him. There's really no brilliance without some quirks.

New Year, New Perspective, New Horse

Well, 2015 did not start out the way I had hoped, what with a fairly significant riding accident, and what I planned to be doing this month has not yet come to fruition (lots and lots of riding). 2014 definitely was the Year of the Horse for me, even though I didn't end up purchasing my own horse as I had hoped. I rode more in 2014 than I have in years, and improved so much, that I am thrilled. I even lost a whole bunch of weight (just about 18lbs), which I am desperately trying to keep off during this month of forced (relative) inactivity.

Since the early spring of 2014, I have been focused on improving my dressage skills, and because of the generosity of a new friend, I was able to lease Silver's Destiny, a 14h Welsh/TB cross pony mare with the capability of First Level work. It took a while for us to build our partnership, but we were able to do some really good things together, earn some respectable scores, win a couple of classes, and try out the First Level work. Unfortunately, she and I are not continuing into 2015 together, but I have been so very grateful for the opportunity to ride and care for her for the large majority of last year. I can't wait until the Virginia Dressage Association - Central Chapter end of year banquet tonight to find out how we did in the placings overall for Introductory Level!

Toward the end of the year, I started riding a mare, Something Victorious (AKA Flicka), a 15.1h Arab/TB cross that belongs to my trainer. Beautiful, forward-moving, graceful, she was MUCH different than Destiny, and I loved riding her. Another teenage girl at the barn has been riding her for the past couple of years, too, and I considered taking this mare on for 2015. A little less well-schooled, definitely NOT bombproof in the least, but still safe and willing. We did some nice work, rode out on the trail, and I never had a problem catching her in the field. I rode her in the last schooling show of the season, receiving not-terrible scores, and learned what to do when your horse totally freaks out during your test (answer: keep moving forward). She is the mare I was riding the Sunday after Christmas when I fell. Totally NOT bombproof, indeed.

I also rode my trainer's gelding, Reiner, a Dutch WB/Arab cross, about 16.something hands, grey, lovely mover who covers some serious ground. A little lazy when he isn't fit (and he isn't fit, really), but comfortable and fun to ride. He's TALL, and it's been so long since I rode a horse over 14h that he feels like a skyscraper, but I like the way I look on him, and he seems to fit me. I've only ridden him maybe two or three times -- once in a lesson -- but I think he might be my guy. Not loving the Arab in him, since I generally think Arabs are nutty, flighty creatures (and this was fairly proven the Sunday after Christmas...), but the warmblood part of him seems to be more prevalent. Of course, I rode him in a lesson, we did some First Level work, and then he was lame. Thankfully, it was only an abscess, which blew out of his heel a week or so ago, and now he is fine. He'll be who I get on, when I get back to riding.

And so far, tentatively, that day is Tuesday, January 27th. I'm going helmet shopping with a friend on Saturday the 24th, and then on Tuesday, I will ride. I can hardly stand it, the not riding. Thursday, I spent part of the afternoon watching my trainer and others have their lessons with Debbie Rodriguez, and I just wanted to ride so badly. Ugh. Soon, soon.

2014 was a great year for my riding. I can't believe how different I look, how much better I have been riding, and how much things have changed. I found two pictures of myself that Travis took, one in April of 2014 and one this past December. I was completely astonished by the difference in the way the photos look. Two different horses, yes, but everything about me is different in the December photo. Amazing. That's what good instruction and lots of practice gets you. Thanks so much, Wanda. I'd never have gotten this far without your excellent guidance. I can't wait to see what I look like at the end of 2015!

Falling

On Sunday, I was riding. The horse I was riding, not unfamiliar to me, spooked at a dog in the trees next to the ring, and I fell off. We had been cantering, and so falling at that speed resulted in some injury. I hit my head, and my back and hip very hard. There is one small section of the sequence of events that I cannot account for, and it all happened so fast that I am not sure I can't remember it because I hit my head, or because it was all so quick. I remember the feeling of Flicka spooking and shooting off to the side, and then I remember seeing the sand of the ring rushing to meet me, and the split-second "OH SHIT" moment that always accompanies realizing you are falling.

After that, it was all pain, and the awful moment of thinking I just wanted to take a nap.

I know I rolled around in the sand for a few seconds, calling to my friend that I couldn't breathe, trying to find a position that didn't hurt, knowing I could not get up. I thought I was bleeding from my back, I tried to sit up, but almost passed out. I laid in the cold and wet sand of the arena for a while, covered with horse blankets and a saddle pad under my head. My friends came to sit with me, three of them nurses, and one a doctor, plus others who were there and came to help. I cried. It was scary, and I knew I had hit my head, but I remembered my husband's phone numbers so someone could call him. I remembered I wasn't wearing my ID bracelet, because I had taken it off to go to a fancy party at the museum. The ambulance came and took me to the hospital. I had a CT scan and tests, an IV, X-rays, multiple neuro checks. I was admitted for overnight observation.

I'll probably say this again...and again....but this is my page and I can say it as many times as I want to. You don't have to listen.

Yes, I'm a Helmet Evangelist.

Me, riding Flicka  (Something Victorious)
November 2014

No, I would not even consider *sitting* on a horse without a helmet on my head.

I cannot, I mean, really CANNOT, fathom how *anyone*, English discipline, Western, Saddleseat, whatever, would ever consider riding without a helmet. I simply cannot grasp it at all. In fact, the helmet use issue is one of the things that utterly turns me off of SCA riding, although I know some folks do wear, and advocate for wearing, helmets at all times. The ones that don't are usually the worst riders with a very inflated sense of their own competence.

I've heard the arguments -- "I'm very experienced... this horse is SO QUIET... I am an adult and I can handle the risk...this horse is bombproof... we're only walking... I don't jump/we're not going to jump... this horse isn't very tall", or my personal favorite chunk of BS, "Helmets can make your injury worse/give you whiplash/some other stupid argument about helmets making it worse".

I'm here to tell you that you can say whatever you want, but those arguments are crap when technology today produces lightweight, decent-looking protection that absolutely protects your brain. Absolutely. I know for a fact that had I not been wearing my helmet, I would have sustained a significant injury that would have had me in the ICU, very likely post-surgical, instead of home on my couch with my family. It would have given the neurosurgeon something to do instead of standing in the hallway,outside my space in the ER, being annoyed that some radiologist saw a speck of blood on my head CT films, and protocol dictates I be admitted for observation. Now, I love some neurology, and the guy was really nice, but I prefer he practice neurosurgery on someone else.

If you don't want to wear a helmet when you ride, that's fine, I guess. It ultimately *is* your decision. None of your arguments will sway me from my point of view on safety, and I reserve the right to think you are an idiot. When you are riding a bike, fine, go helmetless and take your risks. When you are riding a 1200 pound being with its own separate nervous system, goals, and ideas, put on a fucking helmet.

Or don't. I work in rehabilitation, so it just ensures my job security.

Believe me, I want to wear that top hat in the ring at the FEI levels, someday when I finally get to that level. It looks so damn spiff with the tailcoat and the shiny, braided, super-fit horse. But I'll be wearing a top of the line spiffy safety helmet instead (like world champion dressage rider, Charlotte Dujardin), because it only takes one fall, one horse tripping over its own feet, one mistake, one accident to change your life forever. I have too much to live for, and I wouldn't put my family through the horror of the ICU, then inpatient rehab, and the myriad of life alterations that would be necessary to accommodate my changed abilities.

I'm thankful that when I had my injury this past Sunday afternoon, I was riding with someone, that I was in the ring and not on the trail, that I could be attended to immediately. I'm also grateful that I happened to pick the barn with the trainer and other riders who are medical professionals.When I fell, I had two critical-care RN's, another RN, and an anesthesiologist right there to provide first aid, call the ambulance, provide specific and accurate information to the EMT's, and handle calling my husband without freaking him out.

I can't thank them enough. Really.

I'm not able to ride for a couple of weeks, and I definitely feel crummy. I might have to miss a favorite New Year's party, and I absolutely will not be able to participate in my tradition of riding on New Year's Day. All of that matters so little, though, in comparison to what might have happened had I not worn a helmet.

Above my finger, the crack in the foam where it absorbed the impact

To the right and left of the crack, the imprint of the straps that held the helmet on my head at impact

This retention harness is supposed to be attached at the sides of the helmet.
That it isn't means the impact was significant.

The color is abraded off the helmet where it skidded in the sand.

I'm so lucky.

Reflection

Yesterday, I rode Silver's Destiny in a schooling dressage show. It was held at the barn where I am riding and boarding Cinnamon, Saddlebrook Stables, which was wonderful, since I had all my stuff there and didn't have to trailer anywhere, and I already knew most of the people.

Starting the show day off with mimosas and a toast to friends, horses, and our instructor is pretty cool, too.

I rode the Introductory Level tests A and B, and while I was not totally thrilled with my performance, it wasn't bad. I did better earlier in the week in my lessons and practices. I was slightly nervous, but not horribly so, and it was nice to ride in my "home" ring. Easier still, my instructor called the tests for me, so I really didn't have to remember them myself. I had hoped for better than low 60's scores, mostly because I know I am riding a pony with really good skills, and I felt a bit of pressure to at least ride her as well as her owner does, but I just didn't get there this time. One of my very favorite things about dressage, though, is that you actually get a score for your efforts, and while the judge may change at each show you ride in, you can gauge your progress by your test scores. I love me some data. And I always like getting a ribbon or two.

Travis took pictures, which makes me happy, and also makes me sad. I never, ever look in photographs like what I think look like in my own head. Somehow, my own image surprises me every time. "Really?? Do I really look like that??" Of course, event and dressage riders can all agree that the requisite white breeches for showing never do anyone any favors, and especially not the much-bigger-than-a-stick people. And I've had three kids, and I'm well over forty, and that belly pooch is just. not. going. away. But in the pictures, I look too chunky for that pony, even though everyone assures me I am not.

 "Does this pony make my ass look big??" 

I can't focus on the lovely straight line from the bit to my elbow, or my upright, balanced position, I only see all the pudge below my ribcage, and my dancer's turned-out toes, and the boots whose tops are way too wide for my muscular, but hefty, calves.

I can ride her well, I know I do, I trust my instructor and Destiny's owner not to lie to me -- they have no reason to. And there has been an unexpected benefit to the shorter, smaller equine -- my left hip (that has been killing me off and on since last summer) has bothered me hardly at all since I started riding her only eight weeks ago, and even though I have worked hard at lessons and on my position, I have been sore, but not crippled, afterward. A benefit and a relief.

A couple of days ago, I was saying to myself that even though I weigh more than I'd like, I felt strong and capable while riding this horse, I felt like I was getting the job done most of the time, and definitely had improved my balance and my position in the past two months. I can tell -- she's more responsive and smoother to ride, and I'm beginning to have control over aspects of the ride that I didn't before. I tried to convince myself that I preferred strong and slightly bigger,but gets the job done, to thin and incapable, but really I just wish I could still look like this:

The annoying part is I remember how much I hated myself then for not being thin enough. At seventeen years old, 5' 2" and 115 pounds, I thought I was grotesquely fat for a dancer. It was a constant battle, and I don't remember ever thinking I was good enough or thin enough. Ugh, SO much wasted emotional energy over something that was so ridiculous!! I hate that there are still remnants of that thought process left in my brain, almost thirty years later, and I know it's still ridiculous. I'll get over myself, eventually. I love to ride, so I'm certainly not going to stop doing that just because I think I'm a mess. My family thinks I'm beautiful, and that matters quite a lot.

I wish I could go and ride today, but Wren is shooting in an archery tournament this afternoon, and that takes precedence. If I focus at work, I might be able to sneak four rides in this week, which would be fantastic. I know from my test comments yesterday that I have a good bit to work on, and so I will. Bend, rhythm, straightness...the basics.

And I'm shopping for better-fitting white breeches and a black show coat.

A month of losses and new beginnings

Yesterday was my 44th birthday, and as I remind everyone, it's also the 44th anniversary of the very first Earth Day, back in 1970. It's just a cool fact that I love about my birthday date, and it usually means nice weather, spring greenery, and time to be spent outside enjoying it all. Worship in the Church of the Natural Environment. I definitely did some of that, it was a gorgeous day!

Our family, as a whole, and each of us individually, has suffered a few losses this month, but we've also found ourselves at the start of some new beginnings, too.

Of course, we lost Quinn, early this month. Travis lost his foster mother to cancer on Good Friday. Several friends have also experienced the loss of loved ones. Our relationship with the owner of the barn we had been riding and boarding Cinnamon at really began to deteriorate, and because we felt the best option for us was to move Cinnamon to a new barn, we have lost Turkey, even though he wasn't really ours in the first place.

We're in the middle of some nice, new beginnings, though, too. I have found a dressage instructor I like, and a barn where there are lots of adults and some kids, and everyone seems really friendly and welcoming. Wren seems to have found a place at a large hunter barn with TONS of kids and ponies.

It became evident weeks ago that Wren was not receiving the type of instruction that she needed in order to progress as a rider, and I was not able to really study the riding discipline I wanted to study. So a change was necessary. It has really paid off; Wren even wanted to, and tried to initiate, the canter on her lesson horse last night! Amazing transformation in just about a month! What a difference from the terrified, tearful child who didn't even want to trot! Now she's talking about jumping, and wanting to take some dressage lessons from my instructor, too!

I'm really enjoying my lessons with my new trainer, even though I have not yet cantered and I'm still working on the Introductory level work. I *feel* like I am getting my basics under control, but in photographs Travis took today, I was astonished to find myself looking kind of crummy...fat...round...lower legs not as close to the horse's side as they should be...body angle too far forward....ugh. I have so much to work on. It's depressing. Not at all what I had hoped I looked like. Good grief, I hope I don't stay a damned flappy, chunky, sack-of-potatoes beginner forever.

...and these are the best pictures. I'm not posting the really fat and ugly ones....

Cinnamon joined some like-sized friends at the barn where I am taking lessons. She is settled in, and after an altercation (not serious) with a small pony gelding who was looking for love in all the wrong places, she is happily munching hay and has a new friend, Holly, the miniature mare. She's a part of things there, and seems happy and content. I am thrilled she is in a smaller-sized pasture that is close to the "action" so people will see her and be able to keep an eye on her.

Wren hopes to go "trail riding" on her this summer at the new barn. I hope we can do that, too. I've decided to lease the pony mare I've been riding in lessons, even though she is not even 14 hands tall. She's a cutie, and her name is Destiny. Interestingly, a blazon from my registered coat of arms is one of her markings -- a horse head. It's right on her hindquarters. My arms are effectively a horse head on a white diamond.

See? It's facing the opposite direction, but there it is.

So, things are looking up, even though there is still some residual drama and entanglements to untangle. Hopefully that stuff will be done soon. I hope the cycle of loss and pain is done for a while. It's exhausting.

Finding my place

I love dressage.

I know most non-horse people think of it in terms of Stephen Colbert's funny sketches and interviews with Jan Ebeling about his Olympic mount, Rafalca, partially owned by Ann Romney....horses and riders "dancing" with and without music. That's part of it, but it's really so much more, and it's based in military training for field maneuvers.

What I love about dressage is the training. I love the end result, of course, the beauty and harmony of horse and rider, but it's much like learning dance in the process of training. Very physical and cerebral, requiring focus and patience and daily work. I can get lost in my own head and attend to the details of the ride, even at the low level I am at, and think about all the moving parts -- mine and the horse's -- and where to put them with each stride. I remember being that focused when I was training as a dancer, too. The muscular and biomechanical control I gained allowed me to place my limbs wherever I wanted, to balance, and move through space efficiently and seemingly effortlessly.

To do that with a horse is an incredible experience. I've felt the harmony of horse and rider before, briefly in separate rides, usually only for a few minutes at a time. I've been searching for that feeling since I started back to riding two years ago. Today, I found it again, briefly, only for a few moments at a time, but it was there, and it was wonderful.

I've been riding with a dressage trainer and judge for the last few weeks, and it has been a great experience. Fun, productive, challenging, and very positive so far. My lessons have been basic, but straightforward, progressing in small increments to more and more challenging geometry, learning to resolve issues and refine my basic position, and regain my confidence and control. I've found I am not the things I was told I was, and I DO correctly know the details I was taught years before. That, in and of itself, has been a relief.

I'm enjoying riding again. I'm practicing the skills I know, and learning the new ones I need to know. Right now, it's all USDF Introductory Level, walk-trot, haven't even cantered yet, but that's fine. I want the solid foundation of a good position, correct riding, and firm knowledge of the very basics before I get into other stuff. Yes, this means I have to spend time with the World's Most Boring Dressage Test, but it doesn't feel as boring anymore since I actually am focusing on the components of riding that make up the test instead of just riding the test over and over.

And I'm riding a pony. A real pony, a 13.3h Welsh/TB cross mare who has schooled up to a bit of Second Level. It's been interesting; I've never ridden such a short equine before, ever. But her owner and my instructor both say I am doing a great job with her, so that makes me feel good. I still can't get over her being so short, though. For my birthday next week, my instructor says I can ride one of the big draft crosses or other big guys she has, if I want to. That should be interesting after a few weeks of pony-riding!

At any rate, I had a great lesson today, and I finally feel like I am making progress and finding my place. Now if only I could find my *horse*.

Finding the Holy Grail

Yesterday, I drove out to the Calais Horse Trials, a local schooling event held at Level Green Riding School in order to watch two of my Pony Club members ride in the Introductory Novice division. This is the event I did last year, on Champ. I had the opportunity to ride it again, but due to Life Circumstances, opted not to. Instead, one of the Pony Club girls rode Champ this year. She has been doing a much better job with him than I was, so I was interested to see how he'd do in the same situation.

It was raining. The trailer parking field was a squishy mess, and getting into the farm, I kicked myself for not just parking the car out on the road and hoofing it (ha!) into the event, but I knew there would be tractors available in case I was stuck.

I missed the dressage tests, having spent too much time shopping online for the Horse I Cannot Find, but arrived in time to snap some pictures of them getting ready for stadium and cross-country.

I also spent some time watching the dressage tests done by other competitors, because it's a good exercise for my eye to see the differences between people who practice dressage training principles when riding on the flat, and those who ride hunters most of the time. Because of my love for dressage (and so many day-of scratches that the event no longer ran on the time schedule), I caught the tail end of the kids' stadium rounds, finding that Champ and his rider came through with possibly some time faults and one refusal. The other horse and rider combination was eliminated in their first event in stadium due to refusals. Unfortunately, even though it was a schooling event, they did not get to continue on the cross-country.

Watching Champ and his rider get through the cross country phase was exciting, and they came home with a minimum of faults on course to finish the event without the dreaded 'Big E', unlike myself last year. So very happy for them! I don't know what their end placing was yet, because I had to leave before they tallied the scores -- I was completely soaked through, and concerned the additional two hours of rain would make it even harder to get my car off the site.

But all I could think, while I was there, was just how much I wish I had been riding. Oh, I probably could have done it, on the big Belgian/TB I've been riding, but I really do not enjoy half-assing my way through the practice only to try to pull a good performance out of thin air. Too nerve-wracking. I just did not have enough time in the preceding months to put in the focused practice I feel is necessary. Still. Still.....

The conditions were horrible, and the footing was greasy and crummy even in the (grass) dressage rings, so I can't imagine what the (grass) stadium ring was like, not to mention the footing out on the XC course. I watched people go, and I thought, "I can totally do this", and I sort of kicked myself for getting nervous last year and screwing it all up. No, I didn't beat myself up too much -- I did place in dressage last year -- but this year, I just thought that had I the horse, I could have handled it. Familiarity with the course and site? Probably that's a portion of it -- the XC course for the Intro division was pretty much exactly the same as last year. Improvement in my riding? Nah. I haven't improved much, if at all, in the last year, really. I'm going to be doing something about that this year, though. I'm not sure what it was, except a feeling that getting through the three phases seemed like less of an insurmountable obstacle this time, even from the rain-soaked ground.

I hope against hope that the Year of the Horse will reveal one for me (...still...again....I know, how many times do I have to say it?). I'm saving my pennies, and trying to do everything I know how to get myself in whatever serendipitous position I need to be in to make this happen. I'm not sure how totally on board Travis is with my idea, but he loves me, and I think he knows just how deep this particular fire burns, and for how long it's been banked. The practical side of me says I have to wait til we have our own farm so boarding a horse isn't necessary, but the little-girl part says it's not fair that Wren gets a pony and I don't. And part of me feels like I'm forever racing the clock, running out of time to do the things I want to do before I get too old, too broken, to physically incapable to handle the demands of the sport. Never mind the assumption that I have upwards of 40 years of life left, and that there are plenty of seventy year old people out there still riding and jumping and handling horses, a level of anxiety always says "But what if I don't?"

Hopefully, I do. It's raining again this morning, and while my riding is uncertain, I can take responsibility for some things, and so I will go out and get back on the running routine. It keeps my arthritis at bay, and makes me feel like I am doing something on this journey.

My particular Holy Grail is still waiting.

(photo courtesy of Kevin Maxson)

Goals

I try not to do too much with New Year goal-setting. One, because I have enough to do without putting unrealistic expectations on myself (and most of my expectations for myself can probably be considered unrealistic), and two, because there's always so much I want to do that the beginning of the year always feels like I'm standing at the world's biggest buffet line. SO much to see and try and do! It can get overwhelming.

But there are some things, here at the beginning of the Year of the Horse, that I would like to tackle before the champagne flows on December 31.

I'd like to improve my horsemanship skills. There are things about caring for and owning horses that I just don't know enough about. On my list for 2014:

• I'd like to learn how to wrap and bandage legs. I've never used a polo wrap, ever. And I'd like to know which kind of bandaging/wrapping/boots are appropriate and when.
• Equine first aid....what are the over-the-counter treatments that I need to know how to do, and when? When is ichthammol used, or Betadine scrub, or nitrofurazone? I want to better recognize common conditions, too, like thrush, scratches, rain rot, and other ailments. And I'd like to have a handle on when to call the vet, and when something is a real crisis versus when not to panic.
• Oh, yeah, and I want to learn to take a horse's vital signs, and know the parameters of normal.
• And I want to get out into the local horse community more and meet fellow adult amateur riders. So my goal here is to attend lectures, audit clinics and lessons, and join either the Virginia Dressage Association or the Central Virginia Dressage and Combined Training Association.

I think that's a pretty decent amount of stuff to learn this year. I don't think I really have any riding goals, except to keep riding at least once a week. I can't really commit to competitions this year, I feel a little too busy to devote that amount of mental focus and preparation to competition right now. It's one thing to take a lesson and work on skills and try to improve with each ride, but it's another issue to work toward being prepared for something specific, like a course of 12 stadium jumps at speed, or galloping a cross-country course, or a dressage test.

Actually,I'm kind of hoping the planets align and Wren and I both own our own mounts by the end of this year. I just turned in an application to adopt a Thoroughbred from Re-Run Thoroughbred Adoption in Suffolk, VA. Honestly, I'm excited and a little freaked out. I won't be able to trial-ride any horse that I adopt from a Thoroughbred rescue (because of insurance limitations), so that feels a little nerve-wracking, but I will choose a horse with recommendations from knowledgeable people I know, so it shouldn't be really bad. The prospect of having my own horse to do things with and to be a partner with is thrilling, and something I have wanted for a long, long time. It's slightly terrifying, but I have high hopes.

My horsemanship, my riding, my attitude and my nerve, will all just have to rise to the occasion.

Also I may have to revive A Hot Piece of Glass or something, so that I can generate some "horse care" money. Board, farrier, and vet bills all add up quick.

Still.....very exciting.....

Contrast

It was an absolutely glorious day today. Sixty-eight sunny,warm, degrees, and I got to spend the morning on a horse.

I think the weather today was our gift for tolerating the weeks of freezing cold, snow, and general crap we've been having. Or maybe Mother Nature finally got her Zoloft, or something. Either way, it was wonderful, and I feel refreshed and ready to take on the six more weeks of winter that Punxatawney Phil has declared will now happen.

I wasn't feeling well this morning, and it's never fun to ride with a stomach ache, but once I got to the barn, and basked in the sun, I was better. The sky was a brilliant blue, the breeze was warm, and the horses were ready to go, which is always welcome. I even got to wear my new-to-me full leather seat riding tights! They are SO comfy, and I was excited that they actually fit over my ample backside. Bonus! I've discovered that everything fun, or awesome, or comfortable is usually for the skinnier riders, so finding these was a Big Deal.

But I digress.... I knocked about a ton of dirt off of Beau the Belgian, and picked several sticks out of his tail, tacked him up, and we were off. Man, those tights were fantastic to ride in! I sat his trot like I was glued to him!

And we jumped.Not big, and not a lot, but it was smooth, and effortless, and I felt so confident. Picked up the canter and did a sweet five-fence course..."hands up, eyes up, sit and wait, wait wait...look, turn, sit, wait, wait, wait...count the strides and steer..." Even though I didn't get that last broken line from four to five, I still felt really good about it. I haven't jumped in weeks!

I could have easily spent ALL day in the saddle.

The rest of the day was good, too. Wren had her lesson on Gabby while I cleaned tack and slathered my saddle with conditioner. I also took some photos of the barn and pastures to send with my application for the Thoroughbred adoption group. Who knows? This may yet be MY year of the horse.

Today was a distinct contrast to recent days, that's for sure. I'm not *quite*ready for spring yet, but at least now I know it's really coming.

New Year

It certainly has been a while since I posted. Of course, the holidays meant quite a lot going on, but I was hoping to post something daily, to get in the groove of writing not for appeal to government agencies, but for entertainment and contemplation and information. Ah, well. The important thing is to do what you can, when you can, right?

I love the start of a new year. Everything seems new, seems like a giant reset button was pushed, and even though the school year is in medias res, the morning of January 1 always feels like standing at the horizon of something fresh.

Our holidays were pretty good, marred only (and significantly) by my brother's emergency appendectomy on the Monday before Christmas. He was very ill, and all the parameters of that illness were unknown at the time of the original surgery. Consequently, he spent Christmas in the hospital, along with his fortieth birthday (four days after Christmas), and just when things were looking up, it was necessary for him to spend New Year's in the hospital, too. Two surgeries, a couple of procedures, and one very frightening day later, and he is now home and recovering. I am so glad. My brother and I don't always get along, and I wouldn't say we are particularly close (in that we don't really hang out with each other), but I love him, and it was painful to watch him have to go through this. Thankfully, my parents were, and are, available to help him and to be there to support him.

Christmas was the usual family chaos and joy on Christmas morning. Wren was thrilled to get the doll she wanted, and Kira received her own target archery bow, so now she can get serious. Noah happily played the life out of the new Skylanders game on the Wii. We all ate way too much and enjoyed each other's company. This was the first year I did not bake my usual family "heirloom" cookie recipes. I just wasn't feeling it, so I chose to make my grandmother's date squares (which I can eat by the pound), and some other recipes that were equally yummy, and a nice change of pace.

My Dad made the olive salad. I love that he makes it for me.

We didn't do a whole lot of anything over the break, since my brother was in the hospital, and so was our riding instructor. I helped orchestrate people to fill in at the barn to do chores while she was hospitalized, and we took a couple of turns cleaning stalls and feeding the horses. It worked out pretty well, and I have to admit, I do miss doing the daily work.

I almost bought a horse. I thought I had found the guy who fit not only me, but my budget and immediate aspirations, but he is probably not going to be The One for me. Horse buying is such a difficult thing when you have a low budget, particular needs/wants, and an inability to safely take on a "project" horse. I keep telling myself that MY horse is out there, somewhere, waiting for me to find him, waiting for the right confluence of factors to bring us together, but it's hard to be hopeful sometimes.

Travis and Wren ran in the First Day 5K again. Well, Wren did the kids' one-miler, and she ruled it. Even got her picture in the paper! I'm really proud of her, and of Travis, too, who cut several minutes off his time from last year.

I may make her into a runner, yet. She seems to enjoy it, and it would be fun to be able to run together

The kids are back to school, and Travis has gone back to work. I have some quiet during the day again, and although my work schedule and inbox is full to overflowing, I am hoping to carve out time to create. Sewing the holiday gifts I made reminded me how much I love my sewing machine.

Perseverance

Perseverance is getting back on after falling off.

It's getting up and going out even though it's raining, or cold, or hotter than hell. It's knowing what you want, and wanting to get there, and staying on the path even though it would be easier to just turn around and go home. It's knowing that no matter what your goal is, it's gonna take a while to get there.

Perseverance is doing it even though you are scared.

Perseverance is knowing that a break in the action will mean it's harder to get going again, but going and doing it anyway.

I've been sick, and I've been busy, and I've been inconsistent in my riding for a few months. This afternoon, oh, it showed, but oh, it was so nice to be back in the saddle again.

August

The summer will be over in less than two weeks, and the kids will be back to school and the Brandel household will resume its typical nine-months-out-of-the-year schedule.

This part of the year causes me much angst, sometimes, as I want the summers to be full of fun experiences and relaxing good times for our family, but most of the time, I feel like I fall short. I work at home/from home, and I have been very, very busy for several months. This did not abate into the summer months, and try as I did to lighten the work schedule, it just wasn't happening.

We spent a lot of time near computers, but we also visited the library often. We watched movies, but we also went to the pool several times a week (unless it was raining!).

I taught Wren to ride a two-wheeler recently, so we rode bikes, but not as much as we could have. We didn't travel, really. There was quite a lot of running back and forth to the office, but also quite a lot of running back and forth to the barn. I much preferred the barn running.

Wren AND Noah both rode in horse shows, and we did get to the drive-in at least once this season.

Kira has had a few happy weekends home, this last just so full of bubbly teenager life that I hated for her to leave. She's at the beach in Maryland now, hopefully enjoying time on the beach with her cousin and riding her bike all over the place.

I thought, this afternoon when we went to the pool for a little while, that it actually has been a pretty good summer. Yes, my work was relentless and took up way more time than I wanted it to, and no, we didn't travel or do a whole lot of big-deal things, but we spent time with friends, relaxed as much as possible, and did have fun! That's really what it's about, anyway.

And thanks to my mom, Travis and I got to run away to the mountains for two nights and go camping and canoe eleven miles down a section of the Shenandoah River. That was fantastic (and worth an entirely separate blog post).

I'm really looking forward to the kids starting back to school -- this is my first year where they all are in public school -- but the summer has been fun and pretty much what a summer should be like.

I do need some solitude and quiet, though. And the ability to work without constantly being interrupted. Soon.