View From The Empty Saddle

In my last post, I wrote about my efforts to stay active and keep fit as I face aging. I enjoy walking, so a hike sounded like fun. I also like horse back riding, so two weeks after my hike, I decided to go riding at a friend's stable. I've had lessons in the past, but only for a short time and several years ago. I'm somewhere between novice and intermediate. Put me on a trail ride with a group that has no experience and I look pretty good. Last year I went on a ride and it wasn't long before I was helping them. But I'm really just above novice level. Knowing this, Lucy put me on Biscuit, a sweet mare that she uses to teach children. Biscuit was a nice size. I could look her in the eye as I groomed her. I prefer that size to the stallions I can walk under without ducking.

After Lucy helped me saddle her up, we went out to the paddock where Biscuit and I could get a feel for each other before heading up the trail. The sun was bright so I tucked my regular glasses into the collar of my t-shirt and put on my prescription sunglasses. There were six of us riding that day. I felt good, and tried to exude confidence to Biscuit. When everyone was ready, we took off. It was a beautiful day in the mountains and I was really looking forward to it. Lucy and I rode at the end of the pack, Lucy mostly sticking with me since it was my first time at her stable. As we rode up the mountain, Biscuit followed my lead as I moved her from side to side in the road, but she really preferred the outside edge so I let her walk there. I noticed a half buried log in the road ahead, but apparently Biscuit didn't! The next thing I knew she stumbled. I held on waiting for her to regain her footing. Except she didn't. Her other foot tripped as well and I saw her going down. Holding the reins, I leaned back and held my breath hoping 'this wasn't it'! Finally, she regained her balance and I was able to start breathing again. She had gone down on both knees before she could get up. Stumbling used to terrify me when I first learned how to ride. I felt really proud that I had held on and kept my balance, leaning backwards, which helped her regain her balance. Lucy was tickled. "Way to go, girl! Well done!"

The Bible says "Pride Goeth Before the Fall". Yep! I am here to tell you, the Bible doesn't lie! And the fall isn't fun!

A short distance further up the road, Lucy's horse started acting up. Within seconds, Biscuit was shaking her head and jumping sideways. "BEES!" Lucy cried out. Biscuit started to run as I reached for the horn on the saddle. I grabbed the reins in one hand and the horn in the other and held on. Suddenly she started to kick. She was pretty much moving in four directions at once, and I knew I wasn't going to survive this one.

At this point, I would like to borrow a definition from Capt. Sully, of the famed Landing in the Hudson. In the movie, Sully, when he was interrogated by the NTSB, he is asked about the plane crash. At this point, Sully speaks up and says, "Excuse me. The plane didn't crash. It was a 'forced water landing'."

I have never fallen off a horse, and I like to believe I still haven't. However, I have now experienced a forced aerial dismount. And in all honesty, I'll be happy to never experience one again. As I felt myself go sideways, I wasn't afraid. I was rather curious as to what was going to happen next. Looking back, it's possible my sense of self preservation isn't very acute. 'What happened next' was a shock, and in retrospect, I was really, really, lucky!

The landing was hard. I landed flat on my back at my shoulder blades. The thud knocked the air out of every cell in my body, and I rolled over in the leaves on the embankment. While Biscuit stood with the rest of the group nursing her bee stings, I lay stretched out, nose to nose with a pile of dead leaves. Laying face down, I could hear Lucy calling to me, but I absolutely couldn't move a finger to signal I was ok. It took her a few moments to get back to me and I felt badly for her as she kept calling, "Connie, are you ok?"

I was sure I hadn't really broken anything. I knew I'd had the wind knocked out of me, but I was surprised that I truly couldn't move anything. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my back. Finally, I managed to get out "No air." She breathed a sigh of relief that I was conscious and she now knew the problem.

Several minutes later, I managed to stand up. Taking an inventory, I was surprised by several things.
1) How stiff my back was and how hard it was to move it. It felt very tight, and heavy. The elephant was still there. And yet, there was little pain and my arms and legs and head and neck and fingers and toes all seemed to move fine. #1 Blessing! I mean, REALLY!!! NO BROKEN BONES!!! THAT'S A BLESSING!
2) My sunglasses remained on my head, unbroken. #2 Blessing!!
3) My regular glasses were found lying neatly folded on top of the leaves! #3 Blessing!!!
4) My iphone was still in my butt pocket, unbroken! #4 Blessing!!!! But in the days to come, the phone shaped bruise that appeared on my posterior proved that extra padding in that area can be a good thing at least for the phone.

As the aches and pains settled in over the next several days, I realized one area that never experienced any signs of impact or force. My head and neck! While bruises appeared here and there, I never found any sign of whiplash, let alone concussion. My helmet was truly #5 BLESSING!!!!!

It's been a couple of weeks now. My massage therapist worked out most of the kinks, but one was remaining, so I've had my first Chiropractor appointment ever. That shoulder blade area was never meant to handle 150 lbs of flying momentum. However, it did it admirably so I can't complain about a little residual tightness. And then there was the dermatologist appointment to help explain the rash that appeared several days later on my arms and torso. Something was lurking in the leaves, I expect.

One thing stands out in my mind after this experience. I have no doubts, that had I been less active, not working out, walking, and taking yoga, my fall would have been a lot harder to recover from. Staying active has kept me limber, and my bones strong.

The downside to this whole experience is that I'm re-looking at this whole 'Stay Active, Stay Young' mindset. I still believe in it. But I have to admit, there may be some things that you have to acknowledge may no longer be in your wheelhouse.

If Larry were to decide to climb around on our steep roof to do some repairs, or to climb a tree to chop down some dead limbs, I'd be the first to say, NO WAY! We can hire someone (younger and more agile--words thought, but unspoken) to do that sort of thing!

By the same token, if I was an experienced rider, and knew how to handle a horse in most situations, riding at my age might make sense. But for someone who likes to pretend she can ride, the word 'foolhardy' might apply. And for someone who has Osteoporosis in her history, 'foolhardy'  paired with adventurous activities, is not a good combination.

The view from the empty saddle has me re-examining some sayings to separate truth from ideology.

"Stay Active, Stay young!" Good words to live by. "You only live once!" Also good words to live by. "You're only as old as you feel." Truer words were rarely spoken.

On the other hand, "You're never too old.".... Well maybe sometimes it's better to just accept that, for some things, you might be...  after all.

Stay Active, Stay Young!

View of the lake at Vogel State Park from the top of the hiking trail. I made it up. Now I have to make it back down.

The title says it all. I may be getting older, and I may be slowing down, but I'm going into old age fighting, and kicking. And, on occasion, limping and hobbling. I've been very fortunate that I've had a healthy body, and, as far as I'm concerned, a sane mind. My mind may not always be as quick as it once was, and it was never sharp as a tack as the expression goes, but its holding it's own.

When I was in my 40's I signed up for aerobics classes. I enjoyed them and knew I was helping myself stay in shape. I remember wondering how long I would keep them up? Would I still be doing this when I was 60? By the time I'd reached the old age of 60, would I have given up staying in shape? At what age does one give up keeping in shape? Such were the thoughts running through my, still young, mind.

Well, I'm well past 60 and I've learned something. The adage, "Use it or Lose it" is never more important or true than NOW! It only takes a couple of weeks of playing the couch potato before I find that just walking up the slight incline at the end of my road has me huffing and puffing. Yes, I've reached the point where the more I slow down, the slower I get.

As an antidote to aging, I've been working hard at not slowing down. Between yoga, workouts, and walking (usually 2 miles a day) I've come to realize, as long as I can move I'll keep doing something to make sure I CAN still move!

There are definite health benefits to this. Several years ago I was diagnosed with Osteoporosis. After working out, taking yoga and walking, the diagnosis changed to Osteopenia (pre-osteoporosis). According to the radiologists analysis my efforts had made a 22% difference! My bones were strengthening. Three years later, the diagnosis remained the same and I was taken off some medication!! My mother and aunt both had osteoporosis. However, my dad had great bones. He drank milk faithfully, even though he really didn't like it. In his declining days he fell several times, but never broke a bone. I aim to be like him. To keep life interesting, I look for new ways to stay active.

A month ago I went on a 5-mile mountain hike with my yoga instructor, and her friends. Last year I did 4 miles with her, on a relatively level section of the Appalachian Trail. I did OK. So this year I figured I could handle five miles. My yoga instructor, a master hiker, neglected to inform me that the first 2 1/2 miles were uphill. And that my hiking companions traditionally hiked 8-10 miles a day.

I made a few observations from my view at the back of the pack.

1) I seemed to be the only one panting and gasping for air, while I clung to my walking stick with the tenacity of baby clinging to its mother as I peered up at the mountainside.

2) It's possible that I just couldn't see their sweat drenched faces through the water running down my face and blurring my vision,but they all looked amazingly dry and unfazed by the heat and humidity. Towards the end of the hike one person's sweat band looked slightly damp, but by then there wasn't a dry spot on me.

3) I realized this was normal to them as I watched one girl hop from rock to rock down the hillside, while I and my walking stick carefully picked our way down the path. In fact they all looked as though they were out for a Sunday stroll. I realized I was in over my head with this crew.

After I got home I told my husband that the next time I wanted to do a 5-mile mountain hike to remind me I was crazy. However, I was pleased to notice that overall, I didn't feel tired. I had survived!

As I crawled out of bed the next morning I was pleased to notice I felt really good, not stiff and sore. That is until my old lady feet hit the floor, and I stood up. Then my arches started screaming! I wear orthotics in my shoes to support my flat feet, and my flat feet wanted me to know, in no uncertain terms, they were not appreciative of my efforts to stay active and stay young.

I grabbed the aspirin and rubbed some pain relieving gel into my feet. Once my feet got going, I was fine. I had survived the hike in good shape. Just the same, I decided two miles in my neighborhood will have to suffice to keep me young...that is as young as a person who's not a spring chicken, can be.