Friday, September 30, 2011

This is what I do when I'm stressed...

I should not be allowed to look at Dover's website when I'm tired and somewhat high-strung. Yes, it's soothing, but I get the "gimmee's" - and before you know it, I end up looking at Dubarry boots and wondering how many kidneys I'd have to sell to buy a pair...and if I could get one of their sweaters to go with. *Droooooooooooool*

PS: good lesson tonight. Not as good as last week, but Rachel is upping the ante and tossing really tough courses at me. Keep 'em coming!

Thursday, September 22, 2011

That's what I'm talking about!

What a great evening at the barn! We got to ride outside and enjoy the gorgeous fall weather and I finally, for the first time since I had Henri, felt truly "back in the saddle." And then some, really, because I actually made some progress on Project: Don't Jump Ahead. I found that happy medium between chasing Keenan down to a jump and taking my leg off and letting him back up to it. And because I wasn't throwing myself at the jump ahead of his motion, I was able to keep my reins more organized and Keenan more adjustable. It felt fantastic! It's like this light bulb went on over my head. Oh! That's what it feels like when you do it right! In a way, I have pregnancy and motherhood to thank. True, I've spent a couple of years working on this and have done a lot of reading and studying of my Practical Horseman magazines, but on an emotional/psychological level, I have greater confidence in myself and my body because I've learned how strong and capable I am. Might sound hokey but it's true! Now that I have applied that knowledge to riding I feel somehow complete. Rachel told me she really wants to see me show next year and I can't help but wholeheartedly agree. Bring it on!

"Let's try this again."

"Let's try this again."
"I need to get reorganized."
"He's never done that before!"
"I thought I had this figured out..."

I feel like I'm living oddly parallel lives these days. By day, I'm a new mom with an incredibly particular diva of a son. By night (and by that I mean Thursday evenings), I'm still a horse-crazy teenager locked in an almost-27-year-old's body. Thing is, I find myself comparing these two lives and coming away with the notion that the are more similar that they might seem on paper.
My little boy is a moving target. He likes to throw me a curve ball just when I think I'm starting to get things figured out. Optimists would say "ah, it keeps you on your toes!" Well, I don't *want* to be on my toes. My body is too worn out from holding, bouncing and rocking the little bear!
Keenan threw me a curve ball himself just last week (is there some sort of chat room these two go to? After almost two years of being a professional butt-saver, the little stinker threw me under the bus. It's like all of a sudden he decided that the best way for me to figure stuff out was to cease being the world's most generous horse. Of course, he was right. I had to ride him like I've never done before - very forward and determined, with gritted teeth and a steely resolve that we WOULD do the line in three strides. We WOULD get our lead change as soon as possible. I went from riding in a very reserved, conservative way (the way I *had* to ride when there was a baby in my tummy) to having my guns blazing, with a "Seize the Day!" mentality. And darn if there wasn't a knowing look in that horse's eye when I put him back in his stall an hour later. He and Henri sure are smart.