Last night’s lessons wasn’t bad but it wasn’t one of those life-defining epiphany lessons either. It was just hard work. Isn’t that a bummer? Instead of living on a lofty plane of existence at all times wherein the secrets of life, the universe, and everything are vouchsafed unto one at least once a day if not twice, most of life is just one foot after another.
Last night’s class was one hoof after another. I’m not complaining; two months ago, I would have freaked out over and over again during the hour ride since we were in our group, indoors, with jumps all over that we wove around, and one sorta goofy horse. His Lord High Goofiness is a former racehorse and every now and then, he bucks and jumps around apropos of nothing that I can discern. Leah says that he loses his train of thought: He plugs along nicely then sees a shadow and gets all nervous and does the jumping thing. His rider, Marty, is very bold and brave and never shows an ounce of panic.
I did my lesson on Sadie who was having some stumbling issues of her own. I did most of the lesson without stirrups and tried like the dickens to get her into the corners — sometimes by an application of Will Power which didn’t work either — and had trouble keeping my leg in the right spot. At one point, Leah called me over, took hold of my foot, and placed my leg where it was supposed to be. *sigh*. Between trying to keep my leg in the right spot and my thighs turned in and trying to keep out of His Lord High Goofiness’ way, I don’t feel like I achieved much other than (ta da) just hard work.