Seize the afternoon

After spending Monday in a slump due to a long day fixing a big mistake at work, I craved the sunshine that was taunting me outside my window. I took a chance on work not exploding for three hours and dashed out to the barn to hook up the trailer. I tried not to have too much of an agenda; if Tarma said no thanks to the trailer we’d stay at the barn. But she did load right up, she’ll follow me in but she won’t self load quite yet. She even snagged a bite of alfalfa while I stood in the doorway with the divider open, so I called it close enough (there’s my impatience showing) and we hauled over to some local trails on private timberlands.

This is where Tarma shines: she backed off the trailer, stuffed her face with alfalfa while I threw her tack on her, and was cool as a cucumber for being in a brand new space with no other horses about. The adventures of “use ones spawn as a crash test dummy” continue, as within a few yards away from the trailer I tossed Kade up and he rode the whole way while I hiked. Three birds: I get fitter faster, we build confidence together without me in the saddle and fearing being dumped and left behind, and the kid gets to tag along.

We had a wonderful hike down the steep hill and then a much slower hike back up the steep ass hill, with several pauses for me to remember that I had a baby (seven) months ago, wildfires, an ice storm and a pandemic starting from zero body to chisel back to fitness. I also joined another virtual race, the same series I did when I was getting fit enough to do the surrogacy; the medal I’m currently working towards is Arches National Park. They may be a little silly but I like the shiny, artful medals and every little bit of “get off your butt” encouragement.

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After years of borrowing horses, working to ride and catch riding, I finally have my own horse, a spicy chocolate mare...but also a demanding day job (who doesn't?), a nerdy husband, a soccer loving kid who needs to be parented (by me, duh), and searching for our next adventure pup.

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