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.