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Cowboy Up! …or down.

April 21, 2005

Well, it finally happened last Saturday. I found myself in my mid-twenties with the official arrival of my 24th birthday. It was a great weekend. My parents came down for four days, we had a little party, I worked all weekend. One of my birthday gifts from my friend Jamie was a day of riding horses at the farm he works at, guiding people on rides. So we went this past Tuesday. It was great to be out of the city for a bit and to see what surrounds Nashville. It doesn’t take long to find yourself out in the sticks.

Previous to this horse riding experience, I had only been on a horse one other time that I can remember. I’m pretty timid when it comes to animals that are larger than I am. So, with that in mind, Jamie decided that we should walk our horses to the running field for a warm up, and then we should just start running. I’m adventurous, and I trust Jamie, so we were off to the races.

Run Number One:

I got my horse into a trot, which hurts like things that are unmentionable. In order to get out of the trot, I apparently need to kick my horse. In my effort at doing that, and listening to Jamie yell back at me what to do, and holding on for dear life, my feet came out of my stirrups. There would be no getting out of the trot. Eventually I got her stopped. We shortened the stirrups and went for run two.

Run Number Two:

So I got back into the trot. Again, I couldn’t get out of it and was thus in great pain as I was tossed up and down up and down up and down, on top of the saddle. This makes for day after pain in very awkward places. Again, my feet came out of the stirrups and I was forced to wait out the trot. We “fixed” the stirrups again.

Run Number Three:

A general repeat of one and two, except this ride ended with my feet out of the stirrups and my arms giving that horse a great big squeeze hug as I hung on, using her neck to partially break my inevitable fall. And it was a long one, my upper left cheek bearing the brunt of it, followed by a defeated moan from my innermost being.

So what did we do then? Well, after Jamie attempted to wrangle my horse and almost fell off of his in the process, I finally saddled back up and we rode for two more hours. Needless to say I am sore in many many places. And I don’t think I’m quite right in the head for that matter. I’m having a hard time focusing, but I’m sure I’ll be back in the swing of things in no time.

I relayed this story to my mom yesterday and she said, “so, are you going to go do it again?” My response was, “I think I have to.” And I really do. Something about me won’t let that be the end of my experience. The tenacity that I had when I was younger is quieter now than it was then, but it is not gone. I do not go down that easy.

Bruise

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One comment

  1. Miss Lenore, this account was pure delight. I had heard it already from your mom, but this was priceless. And of course, if you haven’t already, you MUST get back on Cowgirl.



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