1. Saddle up my mare.
2. If I feel strong enough, work her from the ground. If I'm not, watch my husband work her.
3. Take photos of the two 3 yr olds for Dreamhorse and the website.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
My birthday message: sustainability
On the morning of May 20, I was about to pick-up the tongue of a flat-bed trailer so that it could be hitched to our small Ford tractor. My son, on the tractor, put it in reverse, and started backing-up toward me. I bent down to pick up the tongue. I tugged. It didn’t budge. I really tugged, pulling hard with my back. As I slowly lifted it, I felt something pop in my hip, but no pain. The trailer was heavier than I thought it would be—I could barely hold it. This must have showed in my face because my son yelled, “Here Mom! I’ll get that.” So, we traded places. I backed up the tractor and we hitched the trailer. Because he's anxious to learn how to drive all the various wheels on the farm, we switched places again. Then, I walked over to the gate to the back lot, as he followed on the Ford. This gate is what James Harriot calls a “shoulder gate”—it's attached to a post (wire, string, etc.) but no hinges per se—it must picked up and walked/dragged open. I reached down, and picked up the gate. Instantly, a white-hot bolt of raw pain sliced through my left thigh, paralyzing me. I gasped, everything kind of paled, and I felt light-headed. I staggered over to a small patch of grass in the lot and laid down. My son ran over to me, “Mom, are you okay?” I wasn’t.
I had injured the sciatic and/or femoral nerves.
It has been four weeks now. I spent the first three flat on my back on our couch, unable to walk, sit, or stand. There were two trips to the ER for the pain. Basic things like showering, brushing my teeth, or going to the bathroom were (frighteningly) excrutiating. I was completely helpless; I had to ask for everything. Needless to say, all the plans that I had gleefully made for the spring were gone. My mare and I were going to compete at First Level and the five year old was going to be shown at Training level. All gone. My husband and son picked up all the chores taking care of our eight horses. It was not an easy thing for any of us. (I would like to say here that my kids were great about this, and my in-laws were wonderful. Everyone pitched in to get me to doctor's appmts and physical therapy sessions.)
I think that I've inadvertently brought this on myself. During the school year, I never work out. I ride only occasionally. Most of my time is spent in front of a computer or a class, or at my desk, grading. Then, when summer vacation began, I'd throw myself into a completely different set of activities: barn repairs, riding every day, training, gardening. And up til now, my body has willingly gone along with it. I had the flexibility and luxury of youth. I have been served notice that that time is ending. I also now know that the way I was conducting my life could be a good way to get injured—more seriously than I had ever imagined.
So, this is a call for change in my life. I want to be able to incorporate my riding and fitness with my job. I think both would be better for it. These changes will have to include the farm as well. Such as gates on hinges, ie: facilities that work well. The two cobs we have in training will also benefit from a more even and sustained training schedule. Balance. Reassessing my goals. What is REALLY necessary. And compromising with what needs to be changed. Or omitted. I want be able to ride for a long, long time. Last week, my son was tying my shoes for me. If I had been 30 or 35, I could have laughed at the role-reversal. At 53, I can't laugh. I now know how quickly a life can be turned upside-down.
And so we begin.
I had injured the sciatic and/or femoral nerves.
It has been four weeks now. I spent the first three flat on my back on our couch, unable to walk, sit, or stand. There were two trips to the ER for the pain. Basic things like showering, brushing my teeth, or going to the bathroom were (frighteningly) excrutiating. I was completely helpless; I had to ask for everything. Needless to say, all the plans that I had gleefully made for the spring were gone. My mare and I were going to compete at First Level and the five year old was going to be shown at Training level. All gone. My husband and son picked up all the chores taking care of our eight horses. It was not an easy thing for any of us. (I would like to say here that my kids were great about this, and my in-laws were wonderful. Everyone pitched in to get me to doctor's appmts and physical therapy sessions.)
I think that I've inadvertently brought this on myself. During the school year, I never work out. I ride only occasionally. Most of my time is spent in front of a computer or a class, or at my desk, grading. Then, when summer vacation began, I'd throw myself into a completely different set of activities: barn repairs, riding every day, training, gardening. And up til now, my body has willingly gone along with it. I had the flexibility and luxury of youth. I have been served notice that that time is ending. I also now know that the way I was conducting my life could be a good way to get injured—more seriously than I had ever imagined.
So, this is a call for change in my life. I want to be able to incorporate my riding and fitness with my job. I think both would be better for it. These changes will have to include the farm as well. Such as gates on hinges, ie: facilities that work well. The two cobs we have in training will also benefit from a more even and sustained training schedule. Balance. Reassessing my goals. What is REALLY necessary. And compromising with what needs to be changed. Or omitted. I want be able to ride for a long, long time. Last week, my son was tying my shoes for me. If I had been 30 or 35, I could have laughed at the role-reversal. At 53, I can't laugh. I now know how quickly a life can be turned upside-down.
And so we begin.
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