My Little Pony
Well, to be frank, and one must, he's not MINE, he belongs to my trainer, Poetry (So called because that's what she looks like when riding) and he's not LITTLE, nor is he a Pony. He's a Dutch Warmblood to be exact, a little over 17 hands.
(I have no clue what "hands" means as a measurement, not MY hands certainly, just think: BIG! His back is taller than my head)
He's also a Super Hero, when outside anyway. It is COLD here in the North, but horses like to get out and romp a bit anyway. So we dress them.
I ride indoors. Of course. And I am learning, studying would also be a good word, Dressage. I started training with Poetry in July last year, and in fact, it was that which led to me realizing exactly how out of shape and very NOT FIT I was. Asking her to teach me was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I couldn't ride, was so out of shape, and nowhere near the level of student I figured she would be willing to take on.
But I've known since I was five I could do this, wanted to do this, needed to do this. And I wasn't going to let this chance go by. When you look at something and know it may well be the last chance you ever have to achieve something you've wanted your entire life, it's very powerful.
She said yes, and told me she didn't mess around. I wasn't going to either. She's not teaching upper level Dressage to put food on the table and I sure wasn't going to waste her time.
I joined a gym August 1st. (It will be six months next Tuesday and we'll have a little report on that next week)
If you had told that scared way out of shape girl six months ago within half a year she would be nipping into the stable, taking her trainers own horse out of the stall, tacking him up and riding Dressage moves confidently, she would not have believed you.
Well, she might have. When you know something inside, if you have the will and determination, you can do it. She knew this, even then, or she wouldn't have done it.
I've got years of work before I'll be able to ride. And a long way to go before I am FIT, like I know I can be. But I'm loving the journey. Riding is work, hard work. Make no mistake there, it's sweat, and brains and pain, and Poetry is, like all great coaches, not afraid to turn into Madame M and yell at me, and tell me off right properly.
But I am miles ahead of where I was.
We did a couple short vid's yesterday, at the end of the lesson, I was pretty tired, (Ok, REALLY tired) and watching them, which I've done over and over, I can see where I'm going wrong, and know that I can do better. Which is a good reason for doing them.
Here's a bit of cantering. A couple weeks ago, Poetry, tired I suspect of telling me over and over not to put my weigh in the stirrups, took them away. My inside head sort of exploded into a chorus of "I am so going to die" but trust is a huge part of working with a great trainer, and I did it. Once again. This wasn't the first time the "I'm so going to die" song played, started with the first time I got on this horse, hauling myself up like a sack of potatoes.
I don't now. I get on confidently, and with grace.
There's grace and beauty in everything.
If you're willing to sweat and scream to get it.
It's so worth it.
Love and Ponies,