Oh what a relief it is...!

As of January, 19th, I officially own a diabetic horse. That's right ladies, the walnut brain's blood test results came back showing significantly elevated levels of insulin. The pleasantly plump, accident prone, punk, has done it again, and we embark on (yet another!) journey of discovery, frustration, and perseverance. His specific diagnosis is Insulin Resistance lending itself to Equine Metabolic Syndrome, and would you believe it, it just so happens that nearly 3/4ths of horse owners happen to be experts in the diagnosis and treatment of the condition! How darned fortunate is that?! I kid, I kid, however it sure seems like it! Luckily, some (actual) experts, my vet, and knowledgeable endurance gurus who have encountered the condition have steered Oz and I on the road to fit and happy pony land. The condition is, from what I gather, easily treatable with some basis management and we should still be green lit for our endurance goal. Simply broken down his new diet entails:

• No grain based products; with the exception of beet pulp (fed sparingly)
• Meals consisting of <10% combined sugar and starch content 
• Grass hay with <10% combined sugar and starch content
• No cookies or sweet treats
• Limited access/no access to lush pasture
•  Exercise, exercise, exercise...
• Exercise, exercise, exercise, exercise...

 The diagnosis was unfortunate, but somewhat expected. Oz has been steadily gaining weight since I moved into the Lexington area for college, and went from a hard keeper to a pontoon in about .5 seconds of grazing on rich, sweet, bluegrass. I had told myself, over, and over, that if the blood test came back positive, I was going to sell Oz. I know, this sounds terribly harsh and out of character, as anyone who knows me knows how much I love my pontoon, however, I wanted to set a boundary of issues I would just not deal with. Metabolic conditions, being at the top of that list. Obviously, I am terrible at setting boundaries since it took my vet minutes to talk me into keeping the lug nut, but that's another issue entirely. So, here we go again.

Bad news attended to, *phew*, its time to move on to the weekly recap of what the heck we did in and out of the arena over the past however many days. This week, Oz and I spent our first week with a local dressage trainer. She is absolutely wonderful, and I have seen bounding progress over the past few rides. Oz, very simply, is a dressage horse at his core, and I am merely forcing to wear biothane tack and then carry me for miles on end. In his element, occasionally I feel guilty watching him being ridden, just knowing what he could have been with a (smarter, better, faster, braver) more advanced rider can be cringe inducing. I am not bragging, but that horse is a far better animal than I am a rider, and seeing him ridden by a professional is eye opening.

So this week we are working on  rapid fire trot to canter transitions, intermixed with lots of lateral bending and flexing, and lots of changes of direction. Doesn't sound too bad until you realize how much Oz likes to pop his right shoulder, and how woefully out of shape I am. Leg, leg, leg, leg, leg, and then jelly. I feel what I look like sometimes and it makes me want to get off and plead for forgiveness, almost. But! I have been feeling much stronger as a rider over the past few weeks of regular work, and I feel much more stable which is improving my confidence tremendously. However, I am having some difficulty relaxing through the pelvis and it is bugging the heck out of me as I have always had a soft seat. I hurt my hip a few weeks ago, and while it does not hurt anymore, I think the injury (in combination with my general weakness) has something to do with my stiffing up. I will be doing relaxation exercises during our warmups and at home, and will revisit the issue in a few weeks time.

Other than that, we had a delightful night ride in the arena and went on a toodle through the gelding field this week which was also lovely. I think I am almost mentally ready to tackle the open fields across the road soon, which we were frequenting before Oz's ligament issue last fall. I have regressed in confidence since then, but hope to be doing trot sets out there in no time. Pending there are no super scary Canadian geese resting in the pond, because if so, oh lordy...here we go again. I have to sit back and remember sometimes that I am ridding a 1,300 lb. animal with a brain the size of a smaller than average walnut. Knowing Oz, it might have a sputtering connection too!

  

Why Edurance?

Oz and I

When I first fell in love with the sport of Endurance, I was a little girl staring wide-eyed into The Encyclopedia of Horses. Something about the smiling riders clinging to the backs of Arabians, sweaty horses with their ears perked and eyes bright, and the magnitude of the classic Cougar Rock photograph never left me. I can still see the exact pictures used in the book, to this day, and they nag at me again and again, to make my dream my reality. Nearly 15 years after staring into my childhood bible, I am approaching the first  checkpoint on my endurance journey. Well, actually more like the third, fourth, or four hundredth checkpoint. Or at least it feels like it!

I've had "the" horse, for seven years now, and while being a massive pain in the you-know-what, he has proven to be my four legged life partner. It has been a long road for my two year old endurance prospect, who had a sneaky little stifle issue as well as a hot-to-trot attitude. I just now feel that we are finally nearing the end of the "what else could go wrong" bridge. My journey with this horse has been a personal one, we grew up together, we went to college together and now as we approach graduation we take our first steps in the big wide world, together. Oz is and has been the most unexpected mentor I could have never asked for. He has taught me painful lessons in humility, patience, and persistence. He has professed a calm in me that I doubt I would have found without him, and has continued to test me in ways I could never have expected.  Like when he decides to spook at the wash stall...every single time we walk by it.

Approaching the end of my college undergrad career, I am finally able to take a hard look at what a life of endurance riding means to me and have, with the help of many, decided to throw my heart into the sport I have always wanted to love. The first thing that pops into my mind when I think endurance, is horses. In particular, strong, fit, healthy, happy, and beloved, horses. The endurance "mindset" when it comes to the horse, is something which I continue to be excited by. My desire to be an endurance rider is paralleled by my desire to form a deep bond with my horse, and to know him in ways an hour every other day in an arena just can't provide. I also have grown quickly attached to the members of the endurance community, who have shown me nothing but compassion and support as I try (and fail, repeatedly) to get my green bean butt to a ride on a sound horse. I have an amazing mentor, who's support has been the difference between giving up and getting on. And I have finally paid my dues and have officially joined my local club, the DBDR, and the AERC. I keep having this feeling as though everything is coming around.

We have gotten over the initial saddle hump, the untimely injury hump, and the three months of pasture rest hump. I have a saddle that fits, an "endurance" saddle pad on order, and a girth extender on loan until my fat horse loses his mid life crisis. We have two more months of winter, and two months of dressage work with a very generous and incredibly understanding trainer. Following this, Mr. O to the Z, heads east for boot camp, endurance style while I stay at home and relearn how to do more than lift a pencil again. We reunite in May, and if all goes as planned the local trails wont know what hit them and we will have come full circle. I will be the rider, smiling, atop a big happy bay, decked out in crazy biothane tack, crusing along down the trail at our first ride. I plan on buying that ride photo, and placing it over the one in the Encyclopedia of the Horse, and taking my place among my dreams.