Until I hurt, I forget that I am technically injured. Mostly. I mean, I wear this fugly brace for about 22 hours a day, so there's that.
Friday, 9/16: rode Archie in my jump saddle. Mounted on the off side, thinking that would be easier on my left knee. Swinging my leg over was the most excruciating experience and I couldn't bend my leg well enough to pick up my stirrup. Ignored trot and tried to canter and contemplated the benefits of amputation.
Saturday, 9/17: rode Archie in my dressage saddle. Mounted from the picnic table, so the left leg was in a stabilized position. Trail buddy helped me get my left foot in the stirrup. The ride was unremarkable as far as pain, so trail buddy and I planned a trail ride for the next day.
|I zip my left boot up half-way and then fold it over and close the snap. It works and doesn't rub or anything.|
- Tried Ox first in my dressage saddle. Went through walk/trot/canter and only had a little pain when my gimpy leg swung. Jumped a cross rail in my dressage saddle.
- Put Ox in his regular County saddle and lengthened the stirrups to an absurd amount. Then we w/t/c and jumped the cross rail a few more times. Why am I jumping so early into my recovery? I can't let it become a phobia, because it will.
Wednesday, 9/21: hopped on Ox in his County again and did our normal. Rode Archie for a whopping ten minutes until the light faded too much.
Saturday, 9/24: ripped the inside hinge off my knee brace because it sucked. Riding in it broke it and it was too hard to bend. Rode Ox again, this time jumping just a little bit more with more normal-length stirrups. Had a fucking epiphany and applied something trail buddy had said: instead of my overzealous two-point, I leaned my shoulders forward and Ox's momentum took care of the rest. Took Archie on a trail ride afterwards, where we flushed out two groups of deer with no spooking, but lost our shit at what was presumably a ghost in the woods. Thankful for my deep-seated Kieffer.