The Gloomies

 After going to Renegade over July 4th weekend (post still in draft about that) I just had a succession of bad things. 

My truck's transmission died on our way home from Renegade, thankfully after dropping Gwyn off, so we were close to home and while I didn't need a tow in the end, I definitely limped it home and limped it to the dealer a few days later. The chunk of change to stick a new transmission in the vehicle meant that my retention bonus from work could not be used for fun things like a new saddle, but instead, paid for most of the transmission. 

I haven't hauled since. I think I'm scared now. What that means is that I haven't been out on a trail ride. 

I made this at Pony Club Camp as a teen (CT)

Immediately after Renegade, we had a client audit at work, so I was super busy with that and as soon as that wrapped up we were notified that the FDA was exercising a surprise inspection for two weeks (!!!!) so work craziness continued and I barely saw my horse. 

Where I spent most of my teen years in the winter (CT)

Then I learned that Jane passed away and panicked about the cost of plane tickets to fly to Connecticut only to be reassured by the Best Wife that I should shut up and buy them because I obviously needed to go. I proceeded to feel unnecessarily guilty and awful about regret as I grieved, and that definitely impacted me wanting to go to the barn.

And where I spent most of my teen years in the summer (CT)

As soon as the FDA inspection was over we dove into performance qualification of the HVAC system for our new manufacturing spaces. Today was the end of week four, we have more weeks to go. 

The gateway to paradise (CT)

Looking up to the upper pasture and the 'riding ring' I used (CT) 

All of this to say... Gwyn has been neglected in the attention department. I hit the weekend so exhausted that every time I've thought to plan a trail ride, the idea of hooking a trailer up and packing to go anywhere is just exhausting.  Most of my rides lately have been in a hackamore, which was absolutely a dopamine purchase and I HAVE NO REGRETS.

Seriously, so cute.

The lavender with purple overlay is *chef's kiss* perfection

Some times I've gone out just to groom because mentally that's all I have the energy for. 

Even the kids helped

I have been consistently attending physical therapy for an hour, every three weeks or so with a lady who specializes in riders. This is to address knee and ankle pain. As I fix one thing my issues seem to migrate to the next adjacent body part (helloooo hips).  However, I've been fairly diligent about my at home exercises and I have noticed improvement in riding and generally in how I'm moving. This has also now led to me adding in pelvic floor therapy because let me tell you, it's NOT fun to have to worry about peeing any time you sneeze or... you know... half halt or try to relax and ride into a canter that's absolutely giant. Until that first appointment, I've been adding in hourly kegels throughout the day. 

What was fantastic tonight, however, was coming into my riding lesson with Ralph.  I told him upfront that I was hoping to have a lesson where I could walk away feeling like I had a win. That work had been shitty and stressful, and I needed tonight to forget all that shit.

So we worked on Gwyn's weak side canter departs. 😂😂😂😂

But you know what? She was the Best Mare Ever. 

Unenthused

She was lazy at first, offering the most western of jogs until Ralph told me to wake her up with some canter. I disagreed, and pointed her at one of the numerous cross rails scattered across the arena. That did the trick, hahaha. 

She's still anticipating pain on that left stifle and hock so achieving that left lead canter has been hard for me. What it took was counter flexing to the outside, really booting her butt to the inside and just pony club kicking. By the end of the night I was able to soften that cue, and the goal is to not have to so obviously flex to the outside eventually, but she needs to learn to actually canter on the left lead when I ask. The right lead was better and that was where she really found her motor. 

What was amazing to me was that it felt easier to ride her canter than it had before I started doing my millions of kegels. It was easier to sit up and not fetal position or go into two point. She really needs me sitting balanced and on her, not off her back at this point. 

It is hard to get a selfie with her whole head.

Ralph described it like a game. She likes playing the game and getting  the right answer. She was BIG MAD when she wasn't getting the right answer, but she also likes to win the Game against me, which is often her dropping her shoulder or ignoring my leg. At one point she was blasting through my inside leg down a long stretch in power canter and I was asking her to rate a bit and stay on the rail. She was aiming instead for a small vertical so I decided, "Okay mare, you want to aim for a jump? We're gonna jump." 

Ralph said afterward that it was like her eyes got real big. She was not expecting me to still assert that I had influence in what we were doing. The next time we cantered around that long side she was very respectful of my leg and where I was aiming. 😁 After that it was more like a partnership between the two of us. She had to get over her "game time" and really get down and focus. After drilling the left canter depart (again, her weak side), she started offering it as counter canter when I cued going right. So she was trying so hard to answer the question. Goober got lots of verbal praise and neck scritches. 

We did a lot of breaks to jump in between the canter and it really felt like I was getting my sea legs back, so to speak. As a kid I was fearless. I'd drop my stirrups, knot my reins and just point Clyde at a set of gymnastics and go through hands free. It felt so amazing to do. My body knew how to fold and I could feel the line. I felt that again tonight. It's getting easier to trust that Gwyn can jump with me and thus I can release and keep my eyes up. 

I won one of the saddle covers in a giveaway from Bel Joeor and this has to be my favorite embroidery design, seriously y'all

Anyway, a lot of what I talked about body wise and biomechanically is stuff that I've been discussing and working on with my physical therapist. And I'm just buzzing with happiness about how well it's tied together tonight. And how much I can feel my body being more capable. It's such a nice change from where I was. 

Anyway, it's been a wild mental swing for me this week. I'm just happy to have some good brain chemicals, rather than awful brain chemicals like yesterday. Huge difference. Enough that I had energy and motivation to actually BLOG ABOUT IT. Whaaaaaaat. 

What wins have you had lately? Let's celebrate the wins!

Jane, In Memoriam

Jane Pastel (1925-2021)

I'm a firm believer that teens need an adult mentor in that teen's special interest who has exceedingly high expectations of that teen. Jane was my mentor as a kid. We attended the same church, which is how we met.  The church was holding an auction fundraiser and I had donated my meager drawing skills listing off that I was best at doing horses (lol oh tween me) and could work off of a photograph. 

Jane was the only one who bid on my services and she invited me out to her house to meet Barron and Pooh Bear.  Barron was an already ancient chestnut, Morgan gelding, arthritic and cranky and nearly toothless. Pooh Bear was a spit fire black Shetland gelding going gray in the face with age who absolutely ruled the roost. Both were absolutely doted on by Jane. 

Up until that moment, my little bits of horse exposure had been the occasional pony ride at the fair, or as a treat, a birthday trail ride out of a massive trail ride business somewhere near UConn, and summer riding lessons at UConn as an 11year old. I was a sponge that had read as much as I could and all that was left, was the hands on stuff. Jane's vast amount of knowledge was this treasure trove that I soaked and immersed myself in. 

She had been raised in the British Pony Club style, as had some of her kids. She taught me how to brush a horse and in what order (curry comb, stiff brush, body brush, soft brush). She told me I should get to know the horses first before drawing them for her. What a clever woman.  My dad and I would come out on the weekend. I would brush both Barron and Pooh, my Dad learned how to clean the stalls. I would dump the wheelbarrow for him (he has polio in a leg and the terrain was too rough for him to do it himself). 

Jane and her husband, Harvey, ca 2008 at my wedding in Groton, CT

One day we arrived and Jane informed me that she had a new horse that I should go meet. I remember it was a cold, late winter day. The ground was frozen but what greeted me was a very friendly, bay gelding who I was informed was named Classy Clyde. He was a Standardbred, off the track pacer and Jane had found and acquired him. I was informed, if I was to ride him, I would need to join the local Pony Club.  And she would pay for everything about him except for my Pony Club membership and his Coggins every year. Eventually, I became her trusted farm sitter, caring for the horses when she'd take her annual trip to the UK to visit a daughter who lived there. 

I rode him a little that really cold day and he was honest and steady and I decided then and there that bay standardbreds were my most favorite horse in the world and I wanted nothing else. This dude occupied a little piece of my soul. And I like to think that he decided I belonged to him too. 

Jane would pick me up after school in her big red diesel truck. Sometimes with the horse trailer in tow if I was going to a pony club lesson. Clyde took me through my C-1 until I finally left for college. Every winter I'd come home and hope to be around for Jane's Christmas Party. As a teen it was a fantastic time, held in her old farmhouse with multiple levels of floor as rooms had been added on over the years. There'd be caroling around the piano and I'd always escape out into the frigid air to visit the horses, already tucked in for the night, munching on their hay. 

I spent my summers at her house, cleaning stalls and riding for hours on the trails that connected into Bolton Notch State Park and Valley Falls Park. I knew that valley in and out and Clyde and I would head out and we'd just leave the trail and explore because I knew I'd always be able to get home. It was contained wild space, to a degree. I'd love to go back and ride those trails again, just to see them because they were such a quiet, tranquil space for me. 

2008, dancing at my wedding

Later, when Erica and I were engaged, we took engagement photos at her property. And when we did pre-marital counseling we were asked to identify a married couple we admired and looked up to. Jane, with her husband Harvey, was our immediate response. Or at least mine, and it didn't take long to convince Erica why. Harvey and Jane were married for what felt like ever. He was a retired surgeon, absolutely brilliant, kind man, and spent his retirement affectionately pinching Jane's bottom, playing tennis, and building beautiful, delicate model airplanes out of balsawood and rice paper or intricate origami pieces of art. There was so much love evident with the two of them and it was so obvious that something they were doing was right. They were lasting, they communicated and their love just continued to blossom. He passed away in 2017. 

It was because of Jane's tutelage that I felt confident diving into home horse ownership. I wouldn't be the equestrian I am today without her. She demanded skills and knowledge out of me and I rose to meet her expectations. Her confidence and trust in me was so crucial to me as a teen. Even if I'd fuck up at school (and I did... my resulting punishment was me delaying getting my drivers license), having Jane and Clyde was a constant in my life that I could rely on. 

Jazmin on Pooh (L) me on Clyde (R)

I kept meaning to write to her. To call. And realizing I can't anymore, that my procrastination cost me the chance to say hi and good by one last time, to send a purposeful thank you.... Fuck that hurts.  At least I can make the memorial service. 

RIP Jane. Harvey was probably impatiently waiting for you. I'm glad you're reunited with him again.