Rider Confessions

Happy First Day of Summer!

Rider Confession #1:
I used to ride until I was dehydrated.   

This was when I was a teenager and in my early twenties.  I remember getting off the horse, both of us covered in sweat, and my abdomen seizing up.  I very nearly blacked out a couple times and often felt like I was going to be sick.  I was just lucky that my lesson horse never tied up, but I nearly did.  Have you ever experienced a "Charlie Horse" in a hamstring muscle?  How about both hamstrings at the same time?

Looking back, I wish that my instructor had moderated our workout by forcing more breaks.  She did hand me my water bottle during the lesson, but I probably should have been taking electrolytes, too.  In her defense, I would not cancel a lesson just because the sun was blazing into the 90's and our arena was uncovered.  Maybe she thought that I would learn my lesson and start regulating my own saddle time to accommodate health concerns.  This possibility just occurred to me now, so I guess that I failed the "hands-on" learning approach.  Now that I have Harley and ten more years under my belt, I am much more conscious of hydration and keeping both of us healthy in the summer months.  What was that saying about age and wisdom?  Or was it youth and folly?  Personally, I think it was the "Charlie Horses."

Rider Confession #2: 
Hans Christian Anderson's 
"The Princess and the Pea" 
is the story of my life.

Literally and figuratively, I am not a princess.  But when it comes to the whole pea part of the story, well...  

...Let's just say that I get blisters by merely looking at a new pair of shoes and if I wear anything other than leather gloves, the skin rubs off my fingers.  As a young rider, I suffered from perpetual raw patches on my inner calves, because I rode in paddock boots with jodphurs.  The stirrup leathers grabbed and twisted the skin off my calves every time that I rode.  Every time.  The pain of warm bath water hitting open skin is unforgettable, but just in case the sensation escaped my memory, I got to relive it a little bit with my new high boots earlier this spring (Discount-box boots vs. FedEx-box boots).

When I purchase clothes, comfort is my number one priority.  I am often discouraged to find irritating materials incorporated in riding clothing, like the elastic band around the ankle in riding pants.  It feels like my skin under the band is burning.  I tried riding Harley bareback in shorts one time.  Every surface of skin that was in contact with his hair grew large, red hives.  I had hives on top of hives.  It was scary and disheartening.  I was trying to be carefree on a hot summer day only to find myself rushing home to take Benadryl.  My mom would tell you that I spent the beginning of my riding career with my eyes half swollen shut and snot running from my nose.  When I was on stable duty, I used to wear a surgical mask when I cleaned stalls to avoid an allergy rush before my riding lesson.  My early dressage trainer and her husband knew that "this kid is for real" when I showed up to the barn with a fresh package of masks and antihistamines. 

As for the leather gloves, I used to wrap my fingers in baseball tape before I discovered the merits of purchasing more expensive riding gloves.  That also reflects the amount of contact that I used to have in my hands.  Learning to sit the trot was another ordeal altogether, complicated by never really riding in a saddle that fit my petite frame.  Even if the saddle has recessed stirrup bars, the buckle from the stirrup leathers hurt my inner thigh, which leads me to my next confession.

 Rider Confession #3: 

I do webbers.

Clean and comfy.  No extra holes to punch or leathers to trim.

I ride with leather webbers instead of stirrup leathers on my dressage saddle.  They are Bates brand, black leather with a nylon core that is not supposed to stretch.  I purchased nifty little sleeves to cover the metal "T" that sets the webber to a comfortable length.  Now I do not have to feel the bulk of the leathers, the pinch of the "T", or the immovable buckle under my thigh.  I also think that they look quite sharp.

Harley gets to be comfy, too, with his contoured girth.

It's the little things that count.

 

No more pinching leathers and even less between me and my horse.  Bliss.

Final Confession:
I have endured my share of pain for the sake of my passion, but, like all horse girls, the thought of not riding never crossed my mind. 

Discount-box vs. FedEx-box Boots

The back of my right knee is killing me!  The skin has been rubbed off and then cracked and abraded a second time.  It hurts, but not as much as taking a shower is going to hurt.  Shower water on raw skin makes me want to cry like a little baby.  I swear it would make grown men cry, if they ever found themselves in my situation.  But this is my fault.  Let me explain.

We have to go back quite a few years...

...to my first pair of high boots.  My first pair of high boots were from the discount box at Beval Saddlery.  Although a little big for my feet, they were the right size and fashioned from handsome black leather.  At sixty bucks, the price was right, so I bought them and never looked back.  Those boots served me for countless hours in the saddle and cleaned up nicely for shows.  Even as the leather wore thin, I had them restitched and continued to wear my soft and comfy boots from the discount box until I finally decided that if they were going to last forever, and I was certain that they were, I must begin rationing my time in them.  I relegated the boots to horse shows only, and purchased a pair of Ariat paddock boots and half chaps for schooling.

For years, I was the Ariat-paddock-boot-and-half-chaps poster child, only wearing my special high boots for shows.  In February, I entered a winter horse show, so the boots were dusted off and summoned for another event.  I started to put on my discount-box boots, comfy and soft, only to find that my calves appeared to no longer fit in the boots.  Not to be outdone my mother nature and despite having entered my third decade, I forced the left boot onto my foot.  There.  It still fits.  I began to work on the right boot, which required considerably more effort.  I tugged.  I pulled.  I grunted and then burst out laughing.  This is worse than a skinny jeans commercial!  But I was not going to give up, not yet.

I planted my left foot and tried to relax my right calf as much as possible.  I slipped the boot pulls into place and slowly increased the force up towards my knee.  Come on boot.  Once I get you past my calf, we are home free.

SNAP!

The stitching on the loops ripped completely.  The boot never made it past my right calf.  I was immediately sad, but started to chuckle until I noticed that my left calf had developed a heartbeat.  It doesn't take a biology major to know that this is not a good thing!  In full surrender, I removed the left boot and gently returned both boots to their resting place in the closet.

So, fast forward to last Wednesday.  My newly purchased Mountain Horse Sportive High Rider II boots have arrived by FedEx.  They have a zipper!  No more boot pulls.  I felt like I was living the high life as I zipped up my boots, fresh from the FedEx box and headed for the barn.

After grooming and tacking with excitement, I got on Harley, admiring my new boots the entire time, and asked him to walk into the ring.  Oh dear.  What is that pinching the back of my knee?

Despite my years of riding, I have never owned brand new high boots.  High boots need to drop.  I already knew this, but I did not really KNOW what that meant.  I should have heeded the warning of that first pinch, but here is how my horse-time logic usually plays out:

1.  Harley, we should just walk, because this pinching really hurts. 
2. (10 minutes later) Okay, let's just trot a bit.  Rising trot will probably take some of the pressure off of the boot tops.
3. Yes, rising trot is much better.  I hardly feel a thing.
4. (20 minutes later) I wonder how your canter feels in these lovely boots.  The foot bed is so supportive.
5. Oh, cantering is wonderful.  Let's do some figure-eights.
6. And lengthen stride.
7. We better canter the other way too.
8. (1 hour after entering the ring) That was the best ride.  I love these boots.  Let's go home.
9. (Dismount.)  Oh my.  What is wrong with the back of my knees?

I believe boot burn is an appropriate name for what happened to the back of my right knee.  The left one got off with just soreness.  I rested over the Easter holiday and read about breaking in high boots.  I read all sorts of things, like soaking them in rubbing alcohol or hot water and wearing them until they dried.  Doing stairs and wearing sponges behind your knees.  I also read that some boots take weeks or even months to drop.  The best way to break them in is to ride in them.  Sigh.

Today, I went and rode in the FedEx-box boots again.  Harley and I had a lovely ride.  I was going to keep it to just 25 minutes, to save my healing skin, but you know how it goes.  Besides, my horse barely flicks an ear when I hold my inside leg up towards his shoulder to avoid bending my knee too much as he canters.  He seemed to know that this silly business of riding with outstretched knees was not of his concern.  He was just happy to be cantering.  I wonder how long it takes to break high boots in if I continue to ride this way?

As I prepare to take a shower, I am missing my discount-box boots even if they were always a bit too big.  Although, I must admit, the foot bed on these FedEx-box boots is just wonderful and the zippers are so easy to zip.  Before long the breaking-in process will be complete, hopefully more for the boots than my sore legs.