I had my sixth and final lesson before the holiday.
I didn't feel I did as well as last week's lesson,
although they said I was trotting well
and I was speeding up and slowing down at my choice.
I had a smaller saddle than previous weeks
so the whole dynamics of my sitting position had changed.
I was concentrating so much on keeping my heels down, reins low,
back straight that I suddenly realised I had my toes curled under
to help keep my heels down. I was clenching my jaws to help concentrate
and in the midst of all this I was forgetting to breathe.
So as you can imagine, after 20 minutes of trotting,
I was exhausted and my hip was complaining bitterly.
I really wanted to end the lesson,
but at the same time I wanted to continue and do well.
Time for my canter. I did not do well;
I felt as if I was flailing about like a flag in the wind and
could only manage 3/4 of the arena before pulling the horse up to a walk.
The instructor asked me if I was losing my balance,
so even he must have noticed how bad I was.
By now my hip was really complaining and monopolised
every moment and movement in the saddle.
I gave in and said to the instructor that my hip was bothering me
and I would call it a day. He must have misunderstood me
because he told me to walk round a few times,
then go back to trotting.
When it was time to get off the horse it was a huge effort
to swing my right leg over the saddle and
a bigger effort to walk back to the car.
Once again I wished for an automatic or, better yet,
a magic flying carpet that would have whisked me home.
My legs were jumping jelly from the effort I'd put in for the past hour
and I just wanted to lie down and rest.
But of course 30 minutes later in the garden with my wild bunch,
I was fully recovered and looking forward to my holiday.
All my jeans are in the wash so they will be ready for packing on Friday.
Today every muscle and joint aches;
I still question why I chose this holiday and
wonder just what I have talked myself into.
I will tell you all next week.
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