Kahlua

There’s no place like horse.

I might be too horsey. I began to notice that everything I do is related to my riding in one way or another. Between half halting my shopping cart, applying seat pressure while navigating the S turns on M-22, having my lawn tractor spooking and rearing resulting in a broken thumb, to name just a few, I’ve come to the conclusion I should add other activities to my life maybe give me a different focus.

So I tried golf.

Epic failure…although I got the stance right, it’s similar to the proper sitting trot position. The head down, follow through with my shoulder and hips coupled with my natural instinct to push my heals down in middle of the swing had me falling off the tee thingy every time. Besides the ball does not respond to clicking, but I was able to achieve a very nice bend ONCE! And hit my husband, who was standing behind me, in the gut with the ball.

On to try Fly Fishing.

I was sure I’d excel at this; I look pretty snazzy in waders and that vest… Whoa yea!! Fly rod/Lunge whip, I got this. Casting lesson just a little light squeeze with the hand, similar to a half halt, yes I applied seat pressure and fell into the river filling my waders with water. Fat-bottomed equestrians don’t float.

Next, I tired downhill skiing.

Being a dressage rider, I found this to be the most difficult. The stance was more like two point, the clothing was slippery and I could not control my speed no matter how hard I pulled those poles back. The hill did not yield to inside leg pressure and no matter how hard I tried to keep my heels down, my legs just would not stay under me.

So I tried to expand my horizons. I’ll try again someday but for now, it’s back to the barn. There’s no place like horse.

Besides, after that long hard winter, my upper thighs and lower buttocks areas have dappled out nicely. Who else would understand this?

Cheryl
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