Sealegs

Annual Trail Rides: 84/200

Im not getting younger, and carpe diem is sometimes my only source of bravery. I used to ride exclusively bareback when I was 12/13 on my pretty paint mare Mystique with her one blue one brown eyes. But as the years grew, so did trepidation while my athletic ability and “bounciness” withdrew.

I dipped my toe in the bareback pond every once in a while, but it wasn’t a regular part of my program. 

I popped on Q bareback, to my own astonishment, for the first time 3 years ago during a Games Day. He had 6 months under saddle at that point but he exuded such calm confidence that I figured the risk was minimal.  Friends were there, it was a closed sand ring, it was a hot day and we were all tired from events all day long (Q included). When I took off at a trot in the timed event “Apple Dunking” I felt my body slide off center and started screaming like a banshee. Our barn photographer captured the moment for posterity. When I look at the picture I dont see the slipping I clearly felt at that moment. Q is completely unfussed.

So I did it again, borrowing and eventually buying a bareback pad (Best Friend). And then last summer I tried bareback and bridleless which was a hoot but scary too. Ive walked and trotted in the ring and on trails, accompanied and solo.

My next BHAG is cantering bareback like I used to do so easily when I was 12. Its hard with this older body on the cusp of 50. But it will probably never be as accessible as it is today. 

And the only way to get your sealegs is to get in the water. So this week I pulled the bareback pad out, swallowed my fear, and headed out for a quiet solo ride in the woods. 

My right leg was in searing pain for the first 15 minutes as it felt like an ogre stretching my leg down. And then, like magic, the pain disappeared and my body adjusted to the position. Enough that I thought I would do a little trot just to rebuild my muscle memory.

I picked up the reins real soft, thought “baby trot” thoughts and started to close my legs, and Q glided into the softest smoothest baby trot jog. We did a few minutes of that and then headed home on the buckle while I gushed on Q about how wonderful he is.

Sometimes you just gotta do the thing even if it scares you. Tomorrow will probably not make it magically easier.