I hate to fly. Really. Hate. To. Fly. The whole concept of stepping into a metal tube, and then launching off the ground at speeds that should only exist in impossible math equations (plane A is flying at 475mph and plane B is flying at 432mph and then they play tag at X in the air so which one serves beverages first kind of deal), just really makes my head hurt. And also gives me anxiety to the max. Anyway, last time I was having an inner panic attack and heart palpitations as I was being catapulted into the sky, I thought to myself, I’m never doing this again.
And then I thought, you’re a liar, Allison, because you need to take a horse vacation. And while fellow blogger’s excursion to work in one of the most immaculate barns I’ve ever seen with the a video that made me cry real live tears sounds very appealing and I’d never ever turn it down, I have a different idea.
When I was little, my mom paid for me to take a jumping lesson at some fancy schmancy barn in Florida, I think at Grand Cypress, while on vacation. I remember the white wash racks, and the white standards, and the big horse I got to ride. What a cool thing to get to RIDE on VACATION. Thank you mom for hooking me up with that, by the way.
Last night, I was talking to a woman at the barn about saddle time. Just hours in the saddle, on every and any horse you can get your hands on, and I’ve found now that I have a horse that LIKES to work and looks at me like “You needed your workout today, I need mine so go get your helmet on, you lazy jerk”, has really improved my riding. I realized after jumping the other night that I did it effortlessly. My brain clicked into autopilot and I had the best jumping session I’ve had on Ellie.
Back to the metal tube taking me places. The next place it’s taking me to is Europe. And once I’m there, I want saddle time. And I’m talking DAYS in the saddle on a monster draft cross galloping through some country and seeing some castles or whatever else I can see from horseback. Now that I’m a real person with a real income (when the heck did that happen?), I can finally pull this off and everyone can laugh at me when I ask them to ride my own horse when I’m gone. Seriously – you should see everyone’s faces followed by “No thanks. She doesn’t look that fun”.
So HELP- where, how, why, who, do I start planning this trip? Any contacts or personal experiences and stories are welcome!
PS remember my fitness clothing rant, ladies? Hop on over to Lululemon and check out the Trikonasana Pant… looks oddly familiar, no?