Wow. Long time, no see.

I've been very lax on the blog, but so much has happened which I should have been talking about. Poplar came back from the "trainer" last November, and it was bad. Really bad. She was skinny, had no foot left, ran the "trainer" over when he tried to load her into the trailer, I canceled my final check, and documented her deplorable condition, bad. Even worse, mentally, she was a disaster. She ran, constantly. She was afraid of everyone, and everything. Yea, she was much better on the long line in terms of respect, but had exactly one speed, terrified. I rode her, barely, when she came back, something felt wrong and in a rush to enjoy my new horse, I went against my instincts and got myself hurt. She spooked at a barrel in the arena, and I hit the ground like a rock and cracked two ribs. Got back on, rode until I really could not breathe, tossed her saddle on to the rack and decided it was time to start over, and do it my way. 

The disappointment, regret, and overall sense that I had failed her by allowing this to happen was crushing. It took a lot of time, thought, and the loss of quite a few pipe dreams to accept that this was my mess, she was my horse, and we had to do this, again, together. It was going to take a long time. It was not going to be fun, but it had to be done. My husband asked more than once, why I didn't simply sell her and call it a mistake. He's not a horse guy, and while he tries, he is a very analytical person. In his mind, Poplar was just that, a big, expensive, soul crushing, mistake. I said, no, he accepted my decision, and we moved on.

I pastured her for two months, just to let her mentally and physically recover. Her back had atrophied in the perfect reflection of a western saddle, my farrier declared her hooves unfit to be ridden, she had stress ulcers, and she was about 100 lbs underweight. Mentally, she was a frazzled mess. When I pulled her back out, we, very casually, started round pen work from scratch. Now, I joke that she taught herself "Lunging for Respect, Stage 1" over the winter while I stayed home and prayed that the roads would clear before I had to drive. In the spring, being ridiculously honest, I did not accomplish much with my horses. Refusing entry to all excuses, I done goofed. I let myself fall into a mental funk and it took me three months to climb out. We missed all of the spring ride season, and we only started really conditioning in June of this year. I didn't ride once between April and June.

Just seeing that on my screen is depressing.

However, today, Poplar is recovered, both mentally and physically from her ordeal and we are about to start backing again. I want to do a few weeks of long-line work before hand, but she is no longer afraid of the saddle, my farrier trimmed all four around this past cycle for the first time, and my sassy little (actually pretty large) punk is back. I missed her very, very much. Oz is doing even better, and other than scamming his way out of a 10 mile training ride with a new friend, we are ready for Big South Fork, in September. We did a 15 mile, hard and fast training ride last week and he came back to the trailer, eating, drinking, and ready for more. He got a giant bug bite on his tendon this week, and gave me a half panic attack, until nearly every respectable horsewoman at the farm had confirmed it, bug bite. Smart ass.

The "Plastic Pony Budget."

So. My husband decided to go back to school, enrolled, and quit his ridiculously stable, well paying, nightmare of a job, all in less than a month. I could not be happier for and with him, this decision will be a long process, but one which will open doors in our lives which will never close. (Go get um Sug!) Only conundrum, I bought a second horse seven months ago. Not a sales horse, or a project horse, a horse, my horse. I am conflicted on having this discussion out in the open, but since I don't advertise this blog anywhere, I think it would be safe to say, I can talk about how damn hard it is to feed, board, and live, with two horses on a plastic pony budget.

Lets start with the initial, "I've got this, no biggie!" feeling which happens when you initially revise the "new" budget. Its a big fat lie. Things are NOT OK. Subway trips three times a week? Nope. New boots for winter? Get ready to save for two months to afford the bargain brand. Horse needs a new blanket? Au naturel is the new Horseware Ireland, get with the program buddy! Going from a combined income sitting us solidly in the middle class tax bracket, to living on a part time position, is really, really shocking. I've never been a worrier, or someone who stresses easily, but money worries cause so much immediate, life altering stress that its unbelievable. I had phantom tremors. My hands would shake, my shoulders would ache, I would cry my eyes out driving to work. I was a mess, and Poplar was not even on the checkbook yet! She was still at the trainers, paid in full.

I got behind, spent my measly savings trying to catch up, and struggled to stay afloat, but my horses were paid for and that was a huge relief.

We can do this, and I feel like its an important thing to share, even as personal as it feels, because someone, somewhere is about to rip their hair out, living in the exact same reality.

Stick it out, you got this, they make 2000 flavors of Ramen.         

Additional headache, heartache, and learning how to give.

We teach our horses how to give to pressure at an early age. They wear a halter within a month or so of birth, and we begin to gently push and prod, encouraging them to learn how to "give." I've been thinking on the concept of "giving" and how it can be applied to my own life in the same context as it is in the life of my horses. By teaching a horse to give, we cultivate their ability to listen closely, to learn to be soft, and to understand when we ask something of them. We use their very natures, and adapt their language to coincide with our own. When I am on the trail and I ask my horse to take a step sideways to avoid an obstacle, he simply takes two steps away from the pressure of my leg and continues romping down the trail. His day is not ruined, his ear may flick back to me for a moment, before they pierce down the trail once more. The pressure means nothing more to him than, "give," and there shall be release. I am learning to give in my own life.

I have a job that I both enjoy as well as detest. My husband is going back to school for a degree in dentistry which will eventually end up costing us more than my parents home is worth. I am owned by two horses, two dogs, and five chickens. My dog Lucy loves running alongside my bike. I love spending time with my horses. I thought I was stressed out in college, so that I would not have to be in the "real world." I feel bad, because I don't want to work 10 hours a day. I feel as though my proverbial rider, aptly referred to as "life's" trainer just screamed "Leg ON!" and I must either give or resist as a boot snaps me in the rib cage. I want to gnash my teeth. I want to scream at the pressures which have suddenly entered into my good living life. I want to shake my head, plant my feet and say "No no no! Not today!" But where will I end up? At the other end of the arena, with a boot still planted in my side, and an angry woman snarling at me for "acting like a turd today" as she firmly smacks me on the ass with a faded yellow twitch?

I know that when my horse does the same, I persist until I receive a "giving" response. So, I'm learning to give, to step out of the way of the rocks on the trail, and to accept that a bit of give now will reward me with the desired "release" one day down the line. I'm not going to stop riding, or biking, or watching late night movies with my husband. I am going to work harder so that I can enjoy the things in life which make me truly happy, I'm going to give, rock that half pass across the arena, and then canter on to halt. Salute. Breathe. Smile.

It all starts with "give."  

Finding Everest

Poplar is my Everest. I think about her, and how to develop our relationship, as well as her mind and body, near constantly. I don't bother to even think about the "ending", the summit, the release at the end of the rope, a trustworthy trail partner. All I think about is the climb, the exertion and willpower, which it will, definitively, take for me to unlock the potential of my chestnut Everest. I thought, when I purchased her, that our journey together would be like driving through a parking lot. That we would encounter only a few speed bums along the way, but easily cruse over them and around the deeper ruts which pocket the asphalt. I was wrong, and that's hard to swallow, but OK. I thought that her incredible brain (read: crafty) would make her easier, that her powerful will (read: stubborn) would make her a stronger partner from the very beginning, and that her strength and unflappable mindset (read: not afraid of you) would make her as efficient and easy as a Prius running in Eco mode. I was wrong, yet again. She is as mysterious as a wooded, smoky mountain, yet, she is my mountain. My little Kentucky Everest.  

The incredible athleticism, mental strength, and personality which this mare possesses are the deceptively hidden rewards of a journey which will require every minute portion of patience, knowledge, understanding, and persistence which I possess. She will be either become my harbinger or my dream maker, and the time and effort I put into her, will determine which part of the trail we walk upon most often, the ruts or the green. I simply can't devise how to express how much I like this horse, I would argue, that one day, she will be the one showing Oz how it is to be done.

The difficulty with this mare comes from her absolute lack of fear and complete confidence in herself, she essentially does not need nor desire "our" guidance. The best way I have come to understand her, is through the analogy of growing up. Usually, a horse would begin to see humans as herd leaders as foals, babies, they learn to give to pressure, to seek release, to find comfort in our presences. This way, when they are started as teenage colts and fillies, the feeling of release and "giving" to pressure is a natural process, a continuation of the handling which they have received all of their lives. They naturally see humans as dominant herd members who's attention and affections are of the highest importance. As (essentially) a range bred horse, Poplar comes from a different world entirely; she is the mid-twenties woman who has always danced to her own beat, she drives a hatchback, and has plans to solo hike the John Muir Trail before her 30th birthday. She does not need anyone, because she never learned to. If she does not want to do something, she does not do it, bottom line. She's stubborn, hard to convince, but craves engagement and stimulation. She's my Everest.

What fun.


 

Post ride!

(Since this blog is more of a personal reflective record than anything else, please excuse me if the language in this one is a bit convoluted. Many things have happened since the last post, and I feel that it will be somewhat difficult to keep things compartmentalized and organized. I'm going to try my best, so hopefully it makes sense in the grand scheme of things.)

 The second half of  Summer has given us a world of changes, both physical, mental, and emotional. First and foremost among such changes is the fact that Oz and I went to and successfully completed our very first limited distance ride! We did it! I want to shout it from the rooftops! We did it! We rode the full 25 miles with two good friends, and had a roaring good time the entire ride through. Even when I was reeling from the shock of having to go out again after the first 15 mile loop, as I was ridiculously unprepared for the pace at a ride, we were having fun through the exhaustion. Oz was a rock star, he pulsed down instantly when we came into camp, and stood perfectly for the vet, who complimented him every check for his happy attitude and calm demeanor. He was ears forward the entire ride, and was a powerhouse until the very end. I never knew we had a HA gear, as Brenda, my mentor called it, but we were in Hauling Ass gear most of the ride! It was definitely the best first ride experience I could have asked for, what an adventure! We ended up winning the Turtle award, and were very proud to be the last pair to finish the ride within the time parameters. This was extremely unintentional, I had assumed that once you were clocked "in" to ride camp you were within the time parameters and took my time cooling Oz down before getting his heart rate checked. Annt! Wrong! Oops! We still finished with about 50 seconds to spare! Yippie!

Our vet card was great, with a single exception, all A's and one C on back score. Oz was back sore, incredibly sore, I am truly surprised that we passed the vet exam at the end of the ride. Our saddle that we thought was a great fit, really showed its true colors after 25 miles of pounding trail. Its a no go, but we found a replacement which I will mention in my next post. I'm super excited about it! All in all, the ride was a huge success and we broke the mental blockade of the "first ride." Oz carried me to both the very beginning as well as to the summit of a long seated dream which I had almost given up on. Thanks buddy!

On the reverse end of the monster pony spectrum, the Poplar chronicle continues. Things are...going. She has exceed my expectations in the worst possible way. Why oh why am I not surprised? Needless to say, I am definitely worried at this point about getting her back and being able to ride her safely. She has been bucking with and without a rider...four feet off the ground, "I'm going to Texas for Christmas!" type bucking and will be staying at the trainers for another 30 days because of this. I bought a protective vest and I plan on duct taping myself to the saddle. I am hoping that it is just a saddle fit issue or a quirk that can we worked out. I should be OK, I've got this. Right guys?!

Ugh, horse ownership in a nutshell. The highs, the lows, the lower lows, and on we go!

Phew, is it hot in here?

Shakervillage, June 2015

Well, hum now, where do I start? This summer has been one of the best, most infuriating, stressful, and enjoyable I can remember, and yes, I know that makes almost no sense, but it will! I promise! Oz came back from Wallace Hill Farm "fit camp" in the best mental and physical shape of his life. I owe Amy more than I could ever repay, she made me a rock star out of a tub of lard, and I much prefer "our" rock star. Sixty days with Amy and I feel like Oz is a brand new animal. Brave, healthy, and strong, he is a powerhouse of a horse; and you know what is the most exciting part of his transformation is? For the very first time in our lives together, I feel like I can keep up with him. I can ride my horse. I can do this. We can achieve this dream together. This is my life horse. The fear is gone. The uncontrollable, all encompassing, life destroying fear of my best friend is all but a thing of the past. 

We are a team, and it feels like a million bucks. 

 (Booya!) 

Shakervillage, July 2015

 Other than our personal growth however, this summer has been an experience. A new and first job, brought with it many personal changes. I had to buy an iron, for one thing, and I had to learn how to use the darn thing, which was a travesty and my mother was ashamed of me. I had a terrible experience boarding Oz and Poplar in a situation which I should never have been so naive to think would actually work out, which resulted in an emergency relocation and a few weeks off for Oz who had lost at least 100 lbs in less than a week due to stress. Yea, that was not my smartest decision, but it was a definite learning experience which resulted in me now boarding with a fellow Green Bean endurance wanna-be! Turned that frown upside down really quickly!

He Pony and She Pony

Poplar also went off to obedience school, much to my chagrin, as I had planned on (and wanted to) finish breaking her out myself, but with the new job and the unending rain, I just hadn't accomplished anything with her other than bonding in two months of ownership. Additionally I was extremely tired of being nipped by the ignorant little... So off she went to a highly suggested trainer who was eternally patient with me as I waited to dig my trailer out of the mud for two weeks! Phew! She will be back on August 15th and I am excited to start working with her for real this time. She already comes flying when I whistle, and I don't even own a treat bucket. She's the diva in my days and I adore her for it.

I also spent my first paycheck on Cloud stirrups, and you will have to pull them from my cold dead fingers, because they are the miracle they are advertised as. No knee pain, no ankle pain, and feeling like a bomb would have to go off to unseat you. They are super cool, no other way to describe them.

Tired pony, new stirrups!

 We did have one tiny upset this weekend, as I took Oz to Shakervillage and we did a very hot and humid fast four miles. We kept a moderate trot up when possible and walked about half of the time. I let him out for a quarter of a mile gallop, and then jumped off and ended up walking the quarter mile back to the trailer as he was puffing like a billows. I felt terrible, we are like two kids. 

Oz: "Hey mom, lets boogie!?"

Me: "No. Way too hot, dude."

Oz: " Mah, quit being a weenie. I was such a good boy, remember that picnic table I didn't spook at?"

Me: "Actually you did."

Oz: "Yea, only for a second...."

Me: "It did take you ten minutes to stop puffing when we cantered up that last hill..."

Oz: "Not really....can I go fast?"

Me: "Nononononono, yes, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

I need to keep an eye on him because he is not going to be the type of horse to pace himself. He is so gung-ho and willing, I really need to learn to pace him and myself. He did dive right into his hay when we finally got back to the trailer and I hosed him down, and took a few sips of water, but we ended up cutting the ride short because the time it took him to cool down made me uncomfortable with continuing. We will get there, and I need to keep reminding myself that we are in no rush and have many seasons to go before we will truly have our own endurance. 

         

Daydream Believer

A lot has happened since I last updated "the blog," I graduated from college, sent Oz to Endurance pony boot camp, got married, and bought a(nother) horse. Yep, you read that right, I not only didn't sell Oz, I decided I needed another four-legged crotch rocket. Well, I didn't actually expect to buy her but she's the "gets what she wants" type of girl and we clicked about as fast and smooth as a ballpoint pen. I mentioned her before under the "ridiculously overpriced" section of the last blog post. Thankfully, I clicked with her owner as well as we were able to make the situation work for the both of us, and so Oz has a sister in crime. Her name is Poplar, and because every Kentucky woman needs a beautiful name, and since she is about as Kentucky as a woman can get, she gets to be the state tree. Here she is in all her glory, there is no laughing allowed.

Yea, she ain't pretty underneath those lovely spots. She's long in the back, coarse in the head, thin in the neck, and she has the jumpers bump from hell. Yet, I love his mare and did from the moment I met her as she walked around her field refusing to be caught by this stranger until a suitable offering of nice hay and hand picked grass had been presented. I like her 'tude. Can you guess what her breeding is?

As for Oz man, I get to pick him up from boot camp in four days and I am ready to ride! I'll post again then with an update.