Monday, June 27, 2011

*Cowboy Status*

My first experience with a not-so graceful dismount happened when I was 8 years old. My very first horse Justi and I were in the outdoor arena, and all was business as usual. However, the lesson soon took a different track when my "trusty Justi" spooked at something and bucked his way across the arena. Needless to say, I wasn't quite prepared for this behavior from my usually predictable purebred, and the inevitable happened. The episode sent me flying through the air and then spiraling down into the hard dirt. I shed a few tears, but in those days I was a bit of a renegade, so without hesitation, I got right back on my trusty steed. Once back inside the barn from my lesson, my trainer Deb went on to share the benefits of falling off a horse. In an attempt to raise my spirits, she went on to ask "do you know how many times you have to fall off to be a cowboy?" I perked up and shook my head with curiosity. "Nine times! So you have eight to go until you're a real cowboy." I smiled at Deb and my mom, and decided from that point on, falling off didn't mean was a bad rider, it simply meant I was that much closer to *Cowboy Status*.

It turned out that this fall resulted in a fractured pelvis, but I could still ride, so it was only a minor setback. Since this first plunge, I have fallen off four more times, on four different horses. Luckily I haven't sustained any major injuries, but I was close one other time.

Jump ahead to 2008- My handsome Half-Arabian country horse, Will, and I were practicing trotting without stirrups a few weeks before my final Youth Nationals. At the time, he had issues keeping his front end and back on the same page and going in the same direction, which is not an ideal scenario for riding without stirrups. After a few solid laps around the indoor arena, we burned around the corner when Will's rear shifted quickly over to the wall, and that threw off my balance just enough to send me sliding underneath of him. One of his Half-Arabian-hefty hooves stepped on the inside of my right calf, leaving a half-dollar sized hole. Will stopped immediately, turned around, and looked at me with sad, sorry eyes. I wasn't seriously injured, but there is still quite the scar and limited feeling as evidence of the fall.

I must say that I am both relieved and slightly disappointed that I've only fallen off five times on my journey toward *Cowboy Status*. Just four more dismounts to go- we'll see if I ever make it. If I do, I'll make sure the world knows about it. I will most likely change my entire wardrobe, career choice, and lifestyle to accommodate for this monumental event in life.



Yup, someday... That could be me.



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