Stubborn Stupidity

...
Equitation does not require prideful idiocy.
That is a personal choice.

Here I am, stronger than I've ever been.
Strong arms, legs, and of course the latest and greatest:
a strong core.
Riding has done it and it feels good.

So when a very much taller-than-the-other-horses horse stands for me to mount, my pride kicks in. Same old mounting technique for every lesson: left hand grabs a hunk of mane near the saddle (no pain for the animal), right hand grabs the saddle horn, left foot into the stirrups and pull for all you're worth.

We all know that pride goeth before the fall.
But I didn't fall.

It becomes apparent that I'm not going to make it, but does that deter me? No. I am stronger. I haven't had to use the mounting block in quite some time. So, in a state of prideful denial, I muscle through it, in slow motion...I heave...and though the ascent is quite sloppy, I am up.

That was Tuesday.
I had a great lesson.
I could feel my new found strength, my new found skill.
I gloried in it.

Friday I can't move without stabbing pain deep within. The pain in my left upper back and shoulder radiates down to my leg. No more twisting, no turning, no bending, no lifting, no work!

Calling in sick is the pits, but there is no choice. Twelve busy little boys require twisting, turning, bending and lifting. Not to mention it's 90 degrees by 10:00 a.m and work requires an hour of yard duty on hot asphalt. Yes, work was out of the question.

After a sweet, though short, visit with the roommates, after lots of Naproxen, hours of alternating icing and heating, after hours of TV movies and lots of lying around, I'm really stiff and sore, but the pain is less acute. Thank goodness it's the weekend, because I'll need all 3 days to deal with this.

Tonight and tomorrow is the Petaluma Wine, Jazz and Blues Festival with Pete Escovedo and Sheila E, Joe Louis Walker, Booker T and the MG's and Charlie Musslewhite.

Phooey.
I'm going!

Somehow.
...