Independence Day?

"The natural progress of things is for liberty to yield

and government to gain ground."

...maybe that's why...

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time
with the blood of patriots and tyrants."

Smart guy, that Thomas Jefferson.

Thomas Paine wasn't half bad, either:

"When men yield up the privilege of thinking,
the last shadow of liberty quits the horizon."

Here's something worth thinking about today.

Observe. Conclude. Act.

Or lose.

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Related Posts
Shot in the Dark: The Mutual Pledge
Shot in the Dark: Liberty
Shot in the Dark: Vigilance

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Shot in the Dark: Partnership

Love me, please, I love you;
I can bear to be your friend...so ask of me anything.
I am not a tentative person.
Whatever I do, I give up my whole self to it.

~ Edna Saint Vincent Millay

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Setback...but Back

News flash!

This photo was taken Saturday morning last, as Consolation and I prepared for our first ride since the dog attack that sidelined me for nine weeks with a torn hamstring.


Almost everyone to whom I mentioned that I was finally back in the saddle said something like, "That must feel really good!"

Well...sort of. The truth is, Consolation and I ran into a spot of difficulty almost immediately. Here, we're discussing whether she'll cross a weedy trench.


It was a long conversation, but she finally agreed to give it a try.


See, that wasn't so bad!


The ride that followed was...interesting. (Read: Frustrating and exhausting. Lord have mercy, the balking issue is back.)


But, I wouldn't have traded those four miles for the world.
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By the way, I'm really happy with my new riding helmet. I went with the Tipperary Sportage again.

This is my third Sportage. The previous two suffered ignominious fates -- one from a header off a bolting greenie that hit the brakes a few years ago, and the other from that fall on my back in April. I survived both tumbles with no apparent brain damage (though, admittedly, it's hard to tell) -- so why mess with success?

Tipperary has made a few changes to the Sportage since I bought my previous one. I find that the new model fits better, has a slightly lower profile, and is more attractive in matte charcoal than the previous, shiny version. Looking for a helmet recommedation? This is mine.
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Fit to Ride, Part Four: Sweet Surrender

You all know by now what I'm up to.

I'm in the middle of a series spawned, somewhat accidentally, by my belief that an ideal endurance rider is one who does his or her best to achieve leanness, cardiovascular endurance, and a high level of functional strength. Only by being committed athletes ourselves can we be worthy partners for our horses. Endurance is a team sport. Play it lean and strong.

While strength is primarily the result of exercise, leanness is about 80% diet. In Part Three, I introduced "eating clean" as a major factor in a rider's ability to attain and maintain a low body fat ratio. Eating clean means fueling your body with the substances it was designed to ingest -- a lifestyle so simple that maintaining it requires only that you follow a few, simple rules. Eating Clean Rule #1, you'll recall from Part Three, is: Don't eat anything with a barcode. Today, we move on to Rule #2.

Eating Clean Rule #2: Sugar is the devil.

Uh-oh. You knew I was going there, didn't you? Congratulations -- you guessed it. I'm going there, and I'm going all the way. Sugar is the devil. It is poison. You shouldn't eat it. Despite what those ludicrous HFCS promotions say to the contrary, sugar is not acceptable, even in moderation. Except in its natural combination with fiber and multitudinous nutrients, such as in fruit, sugar is nothing but bad for you. Period.

I could end this post here. You've already read the critical information. But, I suspect a number of you, like me, aren't satisfied with what when you could have why. So, I'll carry on a bit and give you some resources with which to follow up on your own.

First of all, since we're discussing leanness, you need to understand that sugars are simple carbohydrates. The body converts all carbohydrates to glucose, which is a useful fuel. Unfortunately, most people eat far too much carbohydrate and wind up with an overabundance of glucose in their cells. Because glucose is toxic in large amounts, and because your body is designed to store energy in case of later starvation, you come equipped with a means of dealing with unburned glucose: you turn it to fat.

"It's not fat that gets stored in your fat cells," explains one of my favorite nutrition blogs, Mark's Daily Apple, in this post, "-- it's sugar." The post goes on to explain how too much carbohydrate (sugar) in the diet eventually leads to insulin resistance, which everyone knows is half a click away from diabetes (read: obesity, cardiac disease, nerve damage, blindness, and early death). High price to pay for that afternoon Pepsi.

Prefer an alternative method of payment? How about cancer? As Dr. Patrick Quillin explains in his inexpertly-written, but highly informative, book Beating Cancer with Nutrition, "sugar feeds cancer." It's the perfect meal for mutant cells. Considering that cancer cells form regularly in all our bodies throughout our lifetimes (and are usually conquered by our immune systems) I am disinclined to offer them a welcoming buffet.

I should clarify here that sugar, like processed food, is found in more than the obvious sources. As far as your body is concerned, simple starches are virtually indistinguishable from those white granules you put on your (barcoded) Wheaties. White flour and its many children (pasta, breads, crackers, etc.) are all, essentially, sugars. You've heard that "muffins are for people who don't have the balls to order cake for breakfast?" I'm afraid it's necessary to extend that statement to encompass your morning bagel, English muffin, and toast as well.

Then, there are the hidden sugars. Variously labeled as high fructose corn syrup, rice syrup, dextose, fructose, glucose, sucrose, and everything else gross, an astonishing quantity of sugar hides in supposed "health foods" such as yogurt, fruit juices, salad dressings, smoothies, energy bars and beverages, frozen entrees, soy milk, peanut butter (of the Jiffy and Skippy variety), and just about everything else with a barcode. Even whole grains impact the body as sugar, though in a less dramatic fashion than do the dreaded "simple carbs." Low-fat and fat-free products are almost always packed with sugar, not to mention a horrifying array of additives that don't come from anything so natural as sex or seeds.

By the way, you don't still think you're getting away with anything by choosing diet drinks and other products featuring artificial sweeteners, do you? Good. Because saccharin, aspartame, sucralose, and their evil cousins are well-documented carcinogens, allergens, and wreakers of general havoc on organs from skin to kidney to brain. As a special bonus, many of them enhance your appetite. Just what you need when trying to get lean! (For an excellent discussion artificial sweeteners and other food additives, check out a book called Excitotoxins: The Taste that Kills by Russell Blaylock.)

Note that your friends at the FDA, who are well aware of the complications associated with artificial sweeteners...and the USDA, who are acquainted with the damaging effects of over consumption of carbohydrates...still merrily approve and recommend their use. Just another reason I don't take Big Brother's advice.

Here's the good news: While sugar and its man made relatives are addictive substances, addictions can be broken. All it takes is a healthy dose of willpower applied without exception for a sufficient period of time. For most people, 14-28 days' effort will break the strongest bonds, leaving you free, over time, to transform into one of those annoying people who is genuinely un-tempted by the office chocolate bowl, Friday donuts, and the Coke machine down the hall.

Incidentally, much of these health nuts' seemingly-ironclad commitment is based in their bodies' heightened insulin sensitivity due to low sugar consumption over the long term. That's a fancy way of saying that they know a small slice of birthday cake will leave them feeling like crap for the rest of the afternoon. (It'll make everyone else feel like crap, too, for different reasons...but most of them won't realize they feel like crap because, sadly, they always feel like crap. And to make themselves feel better, they 'll buy another soda. Which will make them feel like crap. Recognize yourself? Check out Dr. Neal Barnard's book Breaking the Food Seduction to better understand -- and conquer -- food cravings.)

Of course, if you're following Eating Clean Rule #1, you don't need to worry about any of this. Nature doesn't overload you with sugar any more than it prints barcodes on itself. Some would argue that fruit is an exception. While it's true that sedentary people should not overindulge, as the carbohydrates in fruit do need to be burned lest they be stored as fat, fruit offers myriad nutritional benefits and is, by far, the best source of sweetness in a clean diet.

Right, then. Many of you have made the clever observation that these two Eating Clean Rules eliminate almost all the products that fill most westerners' grocery carts and kitchen cupboards. Some of you are staring at your screens in horror, wondering what in the name of Kellogg's Frosted Pop Tarts is left to eat. Surely, you say, if she really lives by these rules, she'll drop dead before finishing this post!

Not so. I assure you, eating clean (and getting lean) has nothing whatsoever to do with starvation. "Eating clean," you'll recall, means fueling your body with the substances it was designed to ingest. Here they are:

Vegetables. Fruits. Legumes. Meats. Eggs. Nuts. Seeds. Plant oils. Grains. Milk. Period.


Science and human nature being what they are, there's plenty of room for debate even within the above categories. I'll address a couple of the most prominent issues in upcoming posts, and then we'll move on to the strength part of the equation. For now, suffice it to say that most honest nutritionists and researchers would agree that following Eating Clean Rules #1 and #2 would eliminate the vast majority of our collective roadblocks on the path to leanness and longevity...and as endurance riders, isn't longevity what we're all about?

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Related Posts

Fit to Ride, Part One: Going for the Goal
Fit to Ride, Part Two: Vice and Advice
Fit to Ride, Part Three: Eating Clean
Straight Sailing: Thoughts on Fitness for Endurance Riders
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Fit to Ride, Part Three: Eating Clean

All right. We've talked about why I believe an ideal endurance rider is lean and strong. We've established that my goal is to to achieve leanness, cardiovascular endurance, and a high level of functional strength supported by whole food nutrition. We've concluded that the only people whose advice is worth taking are those who can prove their theories with indisputable results.

Now, it's about time we got down to business, beginning with nutrition. What, exactly, does a lean, strong rider eat?

Good question. I can't answer it for you, but over the past several years, I've come a long way in answering it for myself. What follows is my own set of conclusions, based on extensive self-study of books, websites, and the experience of people who are making these theories work in real bodies, in the real world. These conclusions represent the best way I know (so far) to achieve not only leanness, but such lifelong wellness as is increasingly rare in developed countries today.

I'm pleased to report that good nutrition can be summed up quite simply in a concept I call "eating clean." Eating clean means nothing more or less than choosing, on a consistent basis, to fuel your body with the substances it was designed to ingest -- that is, with actual food.

What was that? Did somebody just say, "Well, duh?"

You'd think, wouldn't you, that I shouldn't need to take up cyberspace advising you to eat food. Think again. Have you read an ingredient label lately? Go ahead, pick a few items from your pantry and study the labels. I'll wait...

Finished? Good. How many of those ingredients do you fail to recognize as products of nature? I don't know about you, but I can't think of anyone who has a sodium benzoate tree in their backyard.

So, in the interest of identifying what qualifies as "food"-- the necessity of which activity is appalling enough to take my breath away -- I've come up with a few rules on the subject of eating clean. Conveniently, if you apply Rule #1, you'll find that most of the subsequent rules take care of themselves. Drumroll, please...

Eating Clean Rule #1: Don't eat anything with a barcode.

With few exceptions, "food" items that come in barcoded packages are the processed remains of formerly nutritious substances. That is, they are foods altered from their natural state, often to such an extent that the human body cannot recognize them as fuel. The implications of consuming such products are enormous.

In the short term, processed foods fill your stomach but fail to signal your body that its nutritional requirements have been met -- because they haven't. Before long, these unmet requirements make themselves known in the form of hunger, even if you've already consumed enough calories for someone twice your size. Naturally, this starts you along the road to becoming twice your size.

The long-term implications of processed food consumption are so numerous as to stretch beyond the scope of this post. One of the most alarming, however, is also related to the nutrient-depleted state of these products. In the absence of sufficient vitamins, minerals, micronutrients and phytonutrients, your body becomes increasingly unable to manage its own maintenance. Damaged cells go unrepaired and mutations unrecognized, resulting in accelerated aging and malignant cancers.

Twinkie, anyone?

Incidentally, processed food manufacturers are well aware of the nutritional wasteland they've created. A glance at their packaging makes clear that they've spent huge sums on marketing designed to convince us not to worry about it. "It's fortified!" they announce, without mentioning that "fortification" means they've added artificially high doses of certain vitamins they know we'll associate with Mom's good advice. I suppose they think we won't notice that the phytonutrients necessary for our bodies to actually process those (often-synthetic) nutrients remain absent. And they aren't about to tell us...because if they did, we might stop to wonder if it isn't better to spend our cash and calories on actual food instead.

Back to Rule #1. Permit me to make myself clear. In warning against processed foods, I'm not just talking about the obvious culprits like cheese puffs, Twizzlers, soda, and German chocolate cake mix. Anyone with half a brain and a modicum of willpower is already avoiding those. (You are, aren't you?)

In case you haven't noticed, my friends, an awful lot of perceived "health foods" also have barcodes. Breakfast cereals. Granola bars. "Diet" snacks. Frozen entrees. Crackers cleverly labeled "all natural" or "whole grain." Canned vegetables, soups, and fish. Soy milk. Tofu. Sports drinks. Pasta. Need I go on?

Yes, yes. I know. Some actual food is sold in barcoded packages for the sake of convenience. Apply Rule #1 with a dose of common sense. Consider whether the item has ingredients (if it does, it's questionable) or is an ingredient (in which case, it's probably okay...subject to other Eating Clean Rules, of course). If you can't identify a product's natural source by simply looking at it, you probably ought to wonder whether it's really edible.

I believe it was Dr. Mitra Ray, author of From Here to Longevity*, who wrote, "If you can't pick it, hunt it, fish it, or milk it, don't eat it." CNC Kelly Hayford puts it even more simply in the title of her high-level book, If It's Not Food, Don't Eat It.

In other words, don't eat anything with a barcode.

Part Four of this series will take us on to Eating Clean Rule #2, which plugs a few loopholes left by Rule #1. In the meantime, I'll leave you to ponder what's left once you've eliminated barcodes from your diet. Those are the foods I'll discuss further in Parts Five and Six.

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By the way, many thanks to all who have participated in this discussion through comments and in the wider blogosphere. Frankly, I'm surprised and delighted by the apparent resonance of this topic. If you have specific questions you'd like answered or experiences to share -- or if you'd prefer I shut up and went back to training and riding! -- please feel free to make your thoughts known.
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* I can't leave this post without mentioning the fact that you won't find Dr. Mitra Ray's best-selling book From Here to Longevity for sale on her website. Why? Because her recent research has led her to the conclusion that she gave some harmful advice (particularly with regard to recommendations for the consumption of meat and dairy) in the original text. In what I consider to be an eminently honorable move, Dr. Ray has ordered her staff to cease publication of the profitable title until she can complete a revised edition containing what she now believes to be accurate, scientifically-grounded information. That, my friends, is a woman worth listening to.
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Related Posts

Fit to Ride, Part One: Going for the Goal
Fit to Ride, Part Two: Vice and Advice
Straight Sailing: Thoughts on Fitness for Endurance Riders

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Fit to Ride, Part Two: Vice and Advice

In Part One of this series, I defined the following goal for myself as an endurance rider: To achieve leanness, cardiovascular endurance, and a high level of functional strength supported by whole food nutrition. I believe that continual striving toward this goal is a critical component of being a partner worthy of my horse. (For more on my reasoning in that regard, see this post.)

In brief, an endurance rider should be both lean and strong. Despite popular assumption to the contrary, the two do not necessarily go hand in hand. A lean person is not necessarily strong, nor is a strong person necessarily lean. Furthermore, leanness and strength are primarily influenced by different components of the fitness equation with which we are all familiar; that is, the combination of diet and exercise.

Strength is primarily the product of exercise, while leanness is influenced most heavily by diet. Any rider who wants to be both lean and strong must commit to excellence in both areas. Let's start with diet, shall we?

You don't need me to tell you that the world wide web is already rife with dietary suggestions. Some nerds, like me, actually enjoy sifting through this material in search of answers; however, there's no question that the plethora of contrasting views can be overwhelming to the point of frustration and, all too often, defeat.

The good news is that a significant portion of the confusion swirling around dietary recommendations (or anything else, for that matter) can be eliminated simply by examination of their sources. Whenever I look at a proposed dietary plan, supplement, or other product, I first consider by what its creation was motivated. More often than not, I discover reasons to be highly skeptical of the proffered information.

Here are a few of the most prominent information sources I have come to regard with deep mistrust:

1. Big Brother

You know that USDA Food Guide Pyramid you had to color in 1st grade? You know the revised MyPyramid the USDA released in 2005? You know how hard entities such as the National Cattlemen's Association, the Sugar Association, the National Milk Producer's Federation, and other trade associations lobbied to prevent those guidelines from including any reference to overwhelming scientific evidence that we all ought to replace a huge percentage of our meat, dairy, grain (yes, grain!), and sugar intake with fresh produce? You know that agribusiness and "food" manufacturers make massive contributions to political campaigns and expect favors in return?

If you don't know these things, I suggest you do some homework. Because the USDA, FDA, DHHS, and similar are a lot more interested in politics than in your well being. I can't think of a single reason to trust the word of anyone who is willing to compromise his declarations of truth for personal gain.

2. Anyone Who is Selling Something

...especially if it's a product offering rapid weight loss or other, miraculous health benefits. Because products making such claims occupy such a large share of the "health and fitness" marketplace, I think the topic merits further discussion:

First, rapid weight loss. Believe it or not, a lot of those miracle products really can help you drop 7 pounds in 7 days. What they fail to mention, however, is that you won't lose 7 pounds of fat in 7 days.

How do I know? Because that is, quite simply, impossible. The human body is capable of metabolizing up to 3 pounds of fat per week -- and 3 pounds is very, very good (1-2 pounds is far more typical and a perfectly respectable rate of fat loss).

If you're losing more than 3 pounds a week, ladies and gentlemen, you're losing things you ought to keep. What are you losing? Water and protein. Protein? Yes. You know, lean muscle mass such as organ tissue and muscle. Great. So much for being strong.

As an aside, permit me to discuss cellulite for a moment. You'll be happy to know, ladies, that it doesn't exist. The fat that makes your thighs look lumpy is structurally identical to all the rest of the fat on your body. What should this tell you? How about this, for starters: If someone tries to sell you a product to eliminate something that doesn't exist, they're taking you for a ride. Go saddle up your pony instead.

On to miraculous health benefits. You've seen them, haven't you, those pills and potions that claim to do everything from increasing energy to decreasing blood pressure to reversing aging? Here's my advice: Anytime you're tempted by one of these products, ask for proof of their claims in the form of independent, published, peer-reviewed research. (Be warned -- almost nobody will be prepared to provide it. I've found a grand total of one company that can do so.)

Usually, they'll send you a few papers extolling the benefits of the key ingredients in their product and expect you to make an illogical leap. For example: Blueberries are good for you. Our product includes blueberries. Therefore, our product is good for you. Right? Wrong. If they don't have research demonstrating the effectiveness and bioavailability of the actual product, don't buy it. Your local grocery has fresh blueberries. Spend your money there.

You know, I still can't think of a single reason to trust the word of anyone who is willing to compromise his declarations of truth for personal gain.

3. Most Doctors

Few people realize how little training most physicians, from general practitioners to neurosurgeons, receive in nutrition. (Think 1-2 credit hours in the course of 8 or more years of study.) Modern medical education focuses almost exclusively on the use of surgical and pharmaceutical intervention to cure disease, rather than on the use of nutrition to prevent disease in the first place.

Frankly, this baffles me. Does nobody think anymore?

Ahhh, wait a moment. The pharmaceutical companies do. In fact, they came up with one of the most brilliant business ideas of the past thirty years: CME sponsorship. It seems that at least 50% (statistics vary) of continuing medical education courses for our physicians are put on by pharmaceutical companies. I'll leave you to ponder what the common side effects include.

Funny thing, I still can't think of a single reason to trust the word of anyone who is willing to compromise his declarations of truth for personal gain.

I could go on to discuss unsustainable weight loss programs, those neat little medical PSA's they run on the news (I'll give you two guesses who produces those beauties), and all manner of other, unreliable sources of dietary advice. But, perhaps it would be most useful to stop ranting and move on to the subject of who you can trust.

If you were in the market for an individual to start your coming four-year-old endurance prospect under saddle, who would you choose: The trainer whose personal mounts are unmanageable at the start, fail to settle at vet checks, and whose tails are bedecked with red ribbons...or the one whose energetic but compliant partners regularly complete races in good form and are greeted with a smile by vets and volunteers alike?

Here's the point: Go with the guy who's getting the job done. If you want to be lean and strong, listen to people who are lean and strong. Heed experience (which is not the same as anecdote) and imitate those whose results prove positive over the long term. Believe only those who can prove their claims.

Part Three of this series will beging to cover the dietary guidelines I've gleaned from such people and applied to my own lifestyle to demonstrable, positive effect. Stay tuned.
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Related Posts

Fit to Ride, Part One: Going for the Goal
Fit to Ride, Part Three: Eating Clean
Straight Sailing: Thoughts on Fitness for Endurance Riders
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Fit to Ride, Part One: Going for the Goal

Eleven years ago, I thought I had fitness all figured out.

At 5'3" and 115 pounds of camp-counselor-suntan, I looked pretty fair in my wedding dress. I knew how to put four food groups on the table in the form of a tuna casserole with white pasta and cheddar, plus a side of canned green beans dressed up in vinegar and minced onion. Every weekday, I attended at least one aerobics class at the local gym. People at the office, to which I ran or biked in almost any weather, considered me a "health nut." All I can say is, Good heavens! What would they call me now?

I've learned a lot since then, you see...including that I was neither well-nourished nor fit during that time. I was merely young and genetically blessed with a mesomorphic body type. In those days, I believed fitness was about burning enough calories to make a pair of jeans look good. I hadn't a clue about the impact of micronutrients on long-term health, the nutritional nightmare that is processed foods, the benefits of high intensity interval training -- or, for that matter, just how sexy a little muscle can be.

And it showed. This embarrassing photo was taken in the spring of 2005, when I was 27. Was I appallingly overweight? No. But I was a far cry from the leanness and strength to which I now aspire.


Between then and now, I've put hundreds of self-study hours into an attempt to understand nutrition and fitness. Though my formal qualifications on the subjects amount to approximately zero, I have at least managed to identify my goal -- always a good first step.

It's a simple goal, and one that's critically linked to my beliefs about fitness for endurance riders. Here it is: To achieve leanness, cardiovascular endurance, and a high level of functional strength supported by whole food nutrition.

Why this goal? I believe that an ideal endurance athlete -- the human half -- must be both lean, that is, have a low body fat ratio, and strong, which I could casually define as having the muscular and cardiovascular capacity to exert maximum power during productive work. (Note that, as discussed in the comments precipitated by this post, "lean and strong" looks different on different people. I'm not talking about preparing for a beauty contest here. This is about contributing my fair share in a team event.)

So, how does a person become lean and strong? As you can see by the above photo, the answer is not to be found in a "healthful" diet of barbequed pork chops, roasted potatoes, and asparagus with lemon butter, plus an hour of step aerobics or a jog at dusk. That level of effort may hold you around average -- but in case you haven't noticed, "average" these days comes equipped with devastating rates of cancer, cardiovascular disease, diabetes, arthritis, and myriad other degenerative, disruptive, deadly, and largely preventable diseases.

Pharmaceutical companies love "average."

I, on the other hand, am not a fan of mediocrity. My horse can't be "average" and strive for a 20,000-mile endurance career (like the equine half of this admirable pair. Note especially the rider's fitness program -- Hint: it ain't step aerobics)...and neither should I.

It has taken me a few years to figure out how to leave mediocrity in the dust. I'm still learning, of course, but over the next week or so I'll attempt to codify my most important lessons in a series of posts about workouts and nutritional concepts that may strike some readers as extreme. For those who are interested, however, I hope to offer a jumping-off point for your own pursuit of ideal fitness -- for your horse's sake.

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Related Posts

Fit to Ride, Part Two: Vice and Advice
Fit to Ride, Part Three: Eating Clean
Straight Sailing: Thoughts on Fitness for Endurance Riders

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Straight Sailing: Thoughts on Fitness for Endurance Riders

I'm about to offend some people. I find that I don't care as much as I used to. You don't have to agree with me. You don't even have to read this post. If you choose to do so, pull up your big girl panties and get on with it. All I ask is that you listen to my opinion and form your own.

I've been thinking about rider fitness. No, not the flame-singed, popcorn-strewn "how fat is too fat to ride" debate that refuses to die on equine forums across the net, but fitness specifically for endurance riders. It seems to me that those of us who ask our horses to haul us fifty miles or more over sunbeaten mountains and through mudslicked valleys ought to hold ourselves to a higher standard than the average equestrian.

How high a standard?

Let me put it this way: If I were training for a relay marathon with a human partner, I'd sure as hell expect him to work as hard I did to prepare. If I found out he was spending his afternoons kicked back on the couch with a diet soda while I logged set after set of agonizing miles, I'd be downright irritated. In fact, I'd probably pull my race entry -- or else find myself a better partner.

How many endurance horses would do the same? Judging by my own observations at rides in my area, I'd have to guess at quite a few. Too bad the ponies don't get a choice. Their riders choose for them -- and some of those choices are less than honorable.

A good friend of mine, who is considering getting into endurance, summed up my feelings on the subject nicely: "I wouldn't even attempt it if I weren't in top condition. I believe I have to earn the privilege of having a good partner by being a good partner."

But what, exactly, is a "partner?"

I looked up Webster's definition and found it largely unsurprising:

Partner (n): 1. One that shares; 2. One associated with another, especially in an action; 3. a member of a partnership, especially in a business.

But the final entry that caught my attention.

4. One of the heavy timbers that strengthen a ship's deck to support a mast.

Being that my maritime experience is exceedingly limited, I had to read up on mast partners. It's a simple concept. Basically, the opposing forces of wind and water upon a ship's mast create pressure that is too much for the ship's deck alone to bear. Without partners -- stout timbers fixed between the deck beams around the opening in the deck through which the mast passes, distributing loads across the deck and into the hull -- both mast and deck would suffer damage sufficient to endanger both craft and crew.

Take a look at this image of the mast partners installed while rebuilding the raised vessel Irene. The partners are the cross-pieces between the longer deck beams. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what would happen if you used a substantial joist on one side and a toothpick on the other.

And yet, many endurance teams attempt to sail through the sport with exactly that handicap. The horses are beautifully, admirably fit, and the riders are...not.

Now wait a minute, you say. I care about my horse. I work hard to keep her fed and watered, floated and ice-booted, vaccinated and massaged and trimmed and clipped and supplemented and stretched.

I'm sure you do. I'm glad you do. That's important. But when was the last time you busted your butt as hard as she does? You know, the butt with those fifteen extra pounds attached. Aren't you supposed to be an athlete, too?

Listen up. I'm not talking about mediocrity here. I'm not talking about lacing up your tennies for a 20-minute walk during your lunch break, maybe throwing in a couple of those tricep kickbacks you read about in the latest issue of Cooking Light.

I'm talking about pure, focused, physical and mental effort. Huffing and puffing, nauseating, self-disciplined, self-denying, self-fulfilling, barrier-breaking workouts that sculpt you into the kind of fit that makes strangers on the street turn around for another look.

You know -- the kind of effort your endurance horse makes for you.

All right. Raise your hand if your hackles are up. Anybody preparing to hammer out a scathing comment about how I'm trying to turn endurance racing into an elitist sport? Take your finger off the trigger, folks; that's not my point.

In fact, one of my favorite things about endurance is that it's a rare sport in which kids can compete alongside their grandparents, and some of its top riders excel despite physical ailments that make them look like everybody's last idea of a champion athlete.

What I am saying is that if you're settling for mediocrity, you're failing your horse. Even if your fitness level is "not that bad." Even if it's "above average." If it's not your personal best -- and that's a moving target, ladies and gentlemen, so keep striving -- it's not good enough.

You don't have to be an elite athlete to compete in endurance. It's a welcoming sport. Care for your horse and give her the credit she deserves, and you'll find friends in ridecamps everywhere. But hear this: Unless you're making a real, concerted, consistent effort to remodel yourself to the best of your ability, you aren't bearing your share of the burden. You aren't the partner you ought to be.

Your horse didn't sign up for this sport. You did. You wanted the fun, the challenge, the adventure and glory. Good for you. Now earn it.
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I don't claim to be a nutrition and fitness expert, but for those who are interested, I'll share in subsequent posts a few things I've learned about diet and exercise that have recently honed my personal fitness to an unprecedented level. If I can do it, you can, too.
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Related Posts:

Fit to Ride, Part One: Going for the Goal
Fit to Ride, Part Two: Vice and Advice
Fit to Ride, Part Three: Eating Clean

Cross Training -- for you, not your horse by Liz at Equine Ink
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Shot in the Dark: Commitment

If a task is once begun, never leave it 'til it's done.
Be the labor great or small, do it well or not at all.

~ Anonymous

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Wallflower Abloom: Volunteering at Owyhee Fandango International 2009

I pulled up on a bit of grass at the Teeter Ranch at 6:30 a.m. Coffee mug in hand, I headed straight for the nearest outhouse. (Hey, it's a long drive.) Before I could even knock on the door, a friend hollered across the clearing, "Tamara!"

And my heart lifted.

The drive had been long, you see, in more than minutes. I came in my little car, horseless, accompanied only by the tattered remains of my plans for the 2009 endurance season. This ride was, in 2008, Aaruba's and my first LD. I'd have given half my soul to be riding two 50's on him this year, plus an LD on Consolation. But it wasn't to be. Aaruba's colic and my recent injury conspired to put me in the volunteer crew at this year's Owyhee Fandango International.

But as anyone who truly loves this sport knows, it's far better to grounded in ridecamp than absent altogether. There are friends to be made and knowledge to be gained, and it's absolutely true that you'll meet more people in camp than you will on the trail. Besides, every ride needs volunteers -- and every rider can do with an occasional reminder of how the world looks from a volunteer's perspective.

And, I got to take pictures. These were snapped during the warmup for the 50 mile race, in which some riders competed seriously for both FEI and AERC recognition and others took a more casual approach. The riders below are FEI competitors; if you recognize them, please let me know and I'll be happy to identify them here.




Promptly at 7:00, they were off! The start was crowded but uneventful, so far as I'm aware. 51 horses started the race, and 39 completed.


At 8:00, the Limited Distance riders set out. Here, Elly Burnett and her green horse Jasper take a calm and sensible approach to the race, which they completed in good form. Congratulations on your first completion, you two!


During the first hold, I had an opportunity to do a little impromptu crewing for 2007 AERC national champion Bob Steller and his horse Majestic Star (pictured below). Both Bob and his wife Monika, herself a 2003 AERC Hall of Famer with her partner Markoss, are exemplary ambassadors for our sport.


We had plenty of volunteer help, so the workload in camp was light. I had the privilege of spending a couple hours chatting with Monika between passing time slips and pulsing LD finishers. In addition to being extremely knowledgeable, she is one of the kindest and most encouraging women I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Monika, you're on my shortlist of people to be like when I grow up.


All told, it was a beautiful day in the Owyhee canyonlands. I may not have gotten to dance, but I'm glad I showed up to sit on the sidelines and sway to the music.

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Bouncing Back

Almost a month has passed since the dog-chasing incident (I refuse to call it an accident!) that grounded me with a torn hamstring and a grudge against irresponsible dog owners.

Thanks to my savvy physical therapist, a rather extreme nutritional program (15+ servings of produce per day, anyone?), and countless hours of stretching, strengthening, and icing, I'm now able to walk through most of my daily tasks in reasonable comfort.

On Monday, I even earned my PT's permission to reintroduce some jogging into my workouts. I promptly went out and made myself sore with a few miles of hill repeats. Ahhh, bliss! Now we're getting somewhere!

I'm trying to ignore the depressing fact that five, slow miles and fifty squats made me sore in the first place. Excuse me while I put my fingers in my ears and hum. I'm like a rubber ball, baby, that's all that I am to you...bouncy-bouncy...bouncy bouncy...

(Ha! I just love the internet. Y'all can't even slap me for putting that tune in your heads.)

Anyway. We know that equines retain their physical conditioning much longer than do humans, so those few miles I managed to get on Consolation earlier this spring won't be entirely wasted. In fact, an experienced endurance friend of mine is convinced that I can have her ready for the LD at Pink Flamingo in early August.

Maybe she's right. What the hell. I'm going for it!

The bad news is that I still can't ride. This isn't just PT's orders; it's my own assessment. If I were to mount up, the knot of injured muscle tissue that remains just above and to the inside of my knee would press against my beloved Stonewall (or any other saddle), causing constant pain and risking re-injury with every stride. Besides, I'd be a fool to risk riding a strong-willed greenie without all systems intact.

So, it's into the round corral with Consolation for some trotting, just to leg her up her muscle tone and aerobic capacity. I could be wrong, but I think she rather enjoys it. That's my smart girl.


Meanwhile, Travis is off on his own brand of endurance ride. He's spending the week on a solo motorcycle trek down Highway 101. Don't worry, Oregonians. I checked the back of his black leather jacket. No eagle.


And yes, he did put on a helmet right after this photo was taken. We believe in helmets around here. Mine may have saved my life last month...which makes a muscle strain and conditioning delay look like a pretty small price to pay for a serious fall.

Rubber ball, I come bouncing back to you...
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P.S. I keep meaning to mention -- as many of you have shown great interest in the subject -- that I've decided to take the dog's owner to small claims court. It's not about revenge. It's about justice. And PT bills. I'll keep you posted.
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Related Posts
Dear Choir
Doggone It
Shorts Stories
Shot in the Dark: Victory
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Shot in the Dark: Victory

I'm not the first to observe that the 2009 season has been rough on the endurance blogging community. Jonna of Barbs, etc. continues to struggle with hoof issues. Elly of Living in a Zoo is working through behavioral troubles. Jacke, aka Endurance Granny, suffered a crash course in exertional rhabdomyolysis. I had to retire a promising mount, then was grounded by an unhappy riding incident. Tabata of My Friend Shah concluded that her horse has done his time. Nicole of Adventures on Arabee and Shana of Sinwaan are sitting out the season, albiet for happier reasons. I've probably missed someone...but I hope not!

This post is for all of you dealing with setbacks -- horse related or otherwise. The quote comes from Jack Medina and Roy Vartabedian's excellent book The Winning Edge: Fueling & Training the Body for Peak Performance. If you don't own a copy, you should.

"There are times when a person puts out everything they have and still fail, they still don't win.
But in the striving, in the development of a will that goes down that deep, a man or woman learns a great lesson about life.
That somehow there can be more victory in striving like that than there is in victory itself.
And even beyond that I will predict that there can be defeat in victory if a person doesn't learn this.

...You can't tell me that there can't be victory in defeat and that there can't be defeat in victory depending on the attitude you have.
It isn't where you are going that counts,
it's the direction in which you are headed!
One of the great things about the sports world is that it can teach you to take frustration and come back out of it and go on to Victory."

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Shorts Stories

I hardly ever wear shorts.

They aren't practical on the farm or welcome at the office, and considering that I have no life beyond those two places, I can safely state that my shorts-wearing time is limited almost exclusively to whitewater rafting expeditions and workouts.

Well. I've discovered a new use for those scraps of navy nylon: Campaigning.

Fresh from yesterday's physical therapy session, still clad in athletic gear, I set out to run a few errands about town. It didn't take long for me to notice the less-than-subtle commentary that rippled in my wake:

"Look at her leg," said the old biddy in the feed store's poultry aisle. Her companion shushed her while I smiled sweetly and stacked scratch grains on my cart.

"That looks like it hurt," whispered the cashier to her co-worker.

"Oh, my god," said a teenaged girl in the parking lot. "Is that a bruise?"

Ahh, the perfect opening line. The girl was the first of many to direct it at me. She was followed by the cowboy with the silver Chevy, the cyclist in line at the post office, the natural foods stocker at the grocery, the guy on the sales floor at Play it Again Sports, and several more.

One after another, they asked, "Is that a bruise?"

One after another, they winced when I said, "Pretty much. Torn hamstring."

One after another, each of them took the bait. "What'd you do?"

And one time after another, I set the hook. "My horse was attacked by a loose dog, and I fell off."

Their reactions ranged from amusement to curiosity to indignation. A few jumped straight to storytelling or advice-giving mode. All wanted to hear more of the story. At some point during every conversation, I made sure to comment that if I'd fallen on pavement instead of dirt, I might have died. Yep, those loose dogs are dangerous. Surely do appreciate owners who pen them up.

The message, of course, was the same one I wrote to you two days after my wreck: If you cannot train your dog to stay on your property no matter what, find a way to confine it. Period. Because if you don't, someone could get killed.

Sadly, humans are less capable of picking up subtle messages than are our equine friends. (Sorry, did I say "subtle?" I meant "glaringly obvious.") As the strangers walked off, shaking their heads in rueful dismissal, I began to wonder if I was getting through.

Oddly enough, it was Mr. Pick-up Line who made my efforts pay off. Eying my tank top as he rang up my kale and flax seed, he asked, "You on your way to work out?"

"Usually."

"Mm. 'Cause whatever you're doing, it's working out."

Right. Clever. I thanked him politely and punched in my PIN. It wasn't until I was walking away that he glimpsed my leg.

"What'd you do?" he called after me.

"Tried riding my horse past a loose dog," I said. "But it didn't work out."

And it happened. The next woman in line dug her elbow into her husband's ribs and chided, "See? You'd better chain up that damn dog before we get sued!"

Mission accomplished.

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Related Posts
Dear Choir
Doggone It
Shot in the Dark: Victory
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Mentor in Motion

Yes, that's Aaruba. He looks great, doesn't he? Like he could trot 50 miles, race for the finish line, and emerge with all A's from the ride vet. But he couldn't.

My Aaruba looks like that because of who he is -- not because of how he feels.

Sometimes, when it gets very bad, he shows the pain. In any other horse, I'd call the symptoms "mild." But Aaruba's pain symptoms were mild even when the colic diagnostics said he should have been thrashing on the hospital floor.

So, you'll understand if I worry.

There are a few, precious instants when I can almost forget. When the weight of dread, so familiar now that I scarcely know it's there until it lifts, is blown back by the force of his joy. When I remember what he is trying to teach me:

Live now, because now is all we have. Embrace the pleasures of sheer physicality. Run until sweat pours from your skin. Build muscle -- it looks good and feels better. Bask naked in the sun. Eat when you're hungry -- natural, nourishing foods. Quench thirst with water.

The dividing line between body and spirit is narrow indeed. Does it even exist? I think Aaruba would say not. So, do not only what is healthful, but also what is right and good.

Challenge your mind. Live with courage. Be prepared to fight, if you have to.

Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Respect those who deserve it. Ignore the opinions of those who don't.

Trust slowly. Love rarely -- but when you love, love deeply. Discover passion. Practice gentleness. Never give up.

In short, live as the best of horses do, for all the time you have. Like Aaruba.

Keep running, Buddy. I'm right behind you.
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Shot in the Dark: Determination

The flower
that follows the sun
does so
even on cloudy days.

~ R. Leighton

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Doggone It

All right. I reckon I owe you all an update. (Many thanks for the concern of those who wrote to make sure I'm not in a coma somewhere.)

Absence of life support notwithstanding, this hasn't been my best-ever week. Since the Border Collie incident that resulted in my unscheduled -- and painful -- dismount from Consolation, I've run a gamut of emotions ranging from frustration to gratitude to resignation. I guess I'm still running, if truth be told.

Last Friday, my physical therapist informed me that my right hamstring suffered "massive soft tissue damage" in the form of "extensive micro-tearing throughout the semimembranosis muscle" as a result of blunt force trauma. Said blunt force also delivered a bone contusion to my knee, but the hamstring damage is considerably more distressing. If properly rehabilitated, however, it should heal completely. That's the good news.

The bad news is that I'm looking at about 6 weeks to return to full use for normal, daily activity and light workouts. Nine weeks or more for my preferred style of working out, which is to say, intense. At that point, I'm guessing I'll be able to ride safely.

Aside: Have you ever noticed how many people assume that you should be able to ride shortly after an injury, because obviously riding isn't athletic. All you have to do is sit there and let the horse do the work! I like to smile agreeably at these people and say, "Oh yes. Riding is a lot like skiing...you know, where the hill does all the work."

Anyway, though I plan to beat my PT's healing-time estimates through a combined approach of excellent nutrition, appropriate exercise, and (should I tell you this?) positive visualization, it's clear that I won't be riding anytime soon. By the time I get at least three months' conditioning on Consolation, the endurance season will be nearly over. If you've been reading The Barb Wire for any length of time, you understand that this is a heavy blow.

Meanwhile, what's to be done about the dog? Or, more specifically, about its irresponsible owner?

Many of you commented that I ought to file a report with Animal Control. Don't worry. I did. Last week, a county animal control officer served "dog at large" charges to the Border Collie's owner. Unfortunately, although the dog's behavior meets our county ordinance's definition of "vicious," it doesn't meet the supersceding state definition, which requires that a dog actually bite someone before it is considered vicious. The upshot is that the worst that can happen to the owner, if he's found guilty on this "dog at large" charge plus two more, is that he'll be fined $100 or less. The dog still won't have to be contained on his property.

Several individuals, including myself, have expressed hope that the owner will demonstrate a sense of responsibility and offer to cover my medical bills and the cost of a replacement helmet. Better yet, he might even build a fence or otherwise contain his dog!

Yeah. Don't count on it. The ACO observed that although the gentleman admitted ownership of the dog, he refused to acknowledge the chasing incident or the dog's frequent off-property roaming. And he wasn't friendly about it. At all.

So, if I want to pursue compensation, I'll have to file civil suit. Idaho small claims court looks like the most reasonable route, should I choose to take it. But is it worth my effort? I've no chance of a ruling that would require the dog to be controlled. The sum of money involved isn't substantial. (Yet.) What's much, much more substantial the loss of most or all of my 2009 endurance and training season. Does that count as pain and suffering? Legally, I doubt it...but emotionally? Yes. It does.

And yes, I'm still running that gamut. But I'll get through. I know what's at the end, even if I'm not there yet: Commitment. Setbacks or no, I'll keep climbing. Always have. Always will.

Longfellow said it best. (So well, in fact, that he named my farm.)

The heights by great men reached and kept

Were not attained by sudden flight,

But they, while their companions slept,

Were toiling upward in the night.

_________________________________________________________

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Dear Choir
Shorts Stories

Shot in the Dark: Victory

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Dear Choir:

If you cannot train your dog to stay on your property no matter what, find a way to confine it. Period. Because if you don't, someone could get killed. On Saturday, that someone could have been me. And I do not appreciate it.

Take responsiblity before irresponsibility takes a life.

And everybody said Amen,

Preacher
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Consolation and I had a nice ride on Saturday. It was sunny out. Light breeze. Cheerful farm workers waving from the fields as we trotted by. Hawks balanced like tight-rope walkers on threads of sky. Perfect.

Early in the ride, we had a little scare when a merle mixed breed ran across the road to bark at us. Consolation whirled and ran a few strides, but a deep seat, calm voice, and tug on the reins brought her back under control.

We turned around and continued down the road. The dog, which had retreated across its yard, came at us again. This time, Consolation stood her ground while I ordered it it back. It stopped. That dog got a good scare off me when it was a puppy, and it knows my voice. We carried on.

Two miles later, our geriatric friend the laborador lumbered along the edge of his lawn, woofing warning. "It's just us again, Black Dog," I called. His cloudy eyes blinked and tail wagged. We carried on.

Half a mile up the road, the rottweiler stud hit the wall of his chain-link kennel with the force of a charging bull, all bared fangs and hackles with spiked collar between. Consolation flinched, but she's nearly convinced by now that this predator can't reach her. We carried on.

At the end of our sixth mile, we passed the farm where lives the dog I hate most: a Border Collie with irresponsible owners. This dog isn't the run-bark-and-back-off sort. He's a herder, and not a polite one. He can't be yelled down. Even Aaruba, who is very responsive to me and brave about dogs, has a hard time facing up to him because he's so quick and focused on getting around to a horse's hind end.

Fortunately, the whole front side of the farm is free of concealing bushes, so I typically have time to see the collie coming and dismount. Normally, there follows a period of trying to keep my horse calm and handwalk her out of range while the dog's owner limps out, red-faced with impotent shouting, to retrieve his beast. We've talked before, that owner and I, about the danger his dog poses to me, my horse, and itself. But no fence has been erected, no stake and chain installed.

On Saturday, I was pleased that the collie didn't seem to be home. Consolation and I walked briskly past and were half a field away when I pulled her off the road to let a couple large, white utility trucks roar by. Sane as Consolation normally is about traffic, I was surprised when she spooked as the second truck passed. She leaped forward, and I shifted again into calming mode. Molassas voice, "Easy-easy, Lady, I've got you." Deep seat, low reins.

But this time, she didn't stop. She sped up. Her head and back rose. Not the truck, then. Something else. That dog.

Sure enough, I glanced back to see a flash of black and white snapping around Consolation's near flank. It must have nearly been hit by the truck in its haste to ambush us.

Great. Now what? The three of us were flying across a plowed field -- far too fast to attempt a single-rein-stop -- at an angle that would force us either over a 12-foot dropoff into the irrigation canal or out onto the road. I tried circling left, away from danger, but the dog was on that side and Consolation wouldn't turn.

I could, of course, try to ride it out in the hope the collie would stop before we hit the edge of the field...but I know that dog. He doesn't stop.

So, Plan B. B as in Bail and try to keep hold of the rein. Not ideal, but better than the alternative. I was just preparing to act when Consolation rendered my efforts unnecessary. She let loose a twisting, double-barrel kick that unseated me and would have sent that dog to the seventh circle of hell, had she connected.

It's hard to say what happened next. I don't remember falling, but the landing is pretty clear. I came down on Consolation's off side, directly on my back with my right leg still in the stirrup. My head slammed down into the back of my helmet. My first thought was, thank God for that helmet. I'm okay. And then, where's Consolation?

I scrambled to my feet. Oh, [insert expletive of choice]! Leg pain. Bad.

On the bright side, my fall seemed to have scared the collie off. Consolation stood forty feet away, facing me, her great black eyes full of questions...and trust. She wanted her leader. After all the bonding issues we've had, it was almost worth the tumble to see that face looking back at me.

She stood calmly while I retrieved her and checked her over. No apparent damage. I wasn't so lucky. As I led her back toward the road and the adreneline drained away, my leg demanded an increasing amount of attention. So, I ignored the imbecilic owner's belated attempt to recall his dog. He was a quarter mile away, in the wrong direction. I needed to get myself and my horse home.

Back on the road, I mounted gingerly. Half a mile's ride was enough. The damage to my leg seemed to be concentrated on the lower, rear inside of my right thigh. Already swelling, it made sitting astride both uncomfortable and unsafe. I dismounted, but walking wasn't much better. Cell phone time.

I called Travis. No answer. Called again. Left a message: "I'm okay, but I need you to call me right away." Walked on. Called a friend who lives nearby. He got in his truck and headed my way.

Meanwhile, I tried riding again but got off when swirls of distortion began swimming like soap bubbles across my vision. So I gimped another mile, using Milady's neck as a crutch, before help arrived.

Being only on more mile from home, I sent my friend to fetch Travis. He led Consolation the rest of the way and put her up while I hitched a ride in the truck and headed straight for the ice and ibuprofen. My vision had cleared and I experienced no further symptoms of head injury, so I decided against a trip to the ER.

By Sunday morning, my head was back to normal (well, as normal as it ever was -- which is to say, not very), but my leg was clearly not. I haven't figured out yet how much damage is done. I'm hoping it's just a massive bruise rather than a stretched or torn hamstring. My knee may or may not be affected. We'll see.

Either way, it could have been worse. Had those trucks not come along to boost us off the shoulder, Consolation and I would likely have been chased down the road instead of across a field. The same fall on pavement instead of freshly-plowed soil could have been fatal -- even with a helmet. It could also have broken any number of bones from hip to shoulder and given me one hell of a road rash. We could have been struck by a car. We could have been killed.

Travis is all for shooting the dog.

Me? I'd rather set my sights on the owner.
_________________________________________________________

Related Posts
Doggone It
Shorts Stories
Shot in the Dark: Victory
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Shot in the Dark: Goals

If you are bored with life, if you don't get up every morning with a burning desire to do things -- you don't have enough goals.

~ Lou Holtz

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Message in a Bottle Rocket

Aaruba came home to In the Night Farm on a July afternoon in 2006.

The first thing he did was look for more space in which to move around. Failing that, he paced. It was the first of many signals that Aaruba would never be content to stand around.

Because of his shaky training foundations and highly emotional nature, as well as my own need to build confidence, we spent an entire year on groundwork. If the was one thing he never lacked, it was energy. When we finally we began training on the trail in July 2007, his tireless nature remained intact. From the first day forward, he never stopped asking, "Can we go? Can we? Farther? Faster?"

By summer 2008, we'd settled at last into a steady conditioning schedule involving roughly 40 miles of long, slow distance work per week. At long last, Aaruba seemed happy. He thrived on effort and motion, loved nothing better than the open road. Endurance was his life.

These days, post-colic, he finds himself back in that pen, unemployed and disconsolate. Watching him breaks my heart; it's like seeing a high-powered businessman who retired and wishes he hadn't, or an Olympic hopeful rendered quadriplegic by an automobile accident. Knowing him as I do, I see that he is in frequent pain. I think it is minor, but history shows that he's exceptionally stoic. He plays anyway, more than I wish he would. Every day, I watch him run and buck and spin about in search of purpose and release.

As Aaruba emerged from his recent colic emergency, I talked at length with several vets who know him well, both healthy and ill. All agreed that if Aaruba were the sort of horse that could be content with an occasional amble along the irrigation ditch, that would be the safest way of life for him, given the probability that he suffers from small intestinal adhesions. But Aaruba is not that sort of horse. He had "Fit Arab Syndrome" long before he was actually fit. He's as likely to hurt himself in the pasture due to lack of work as is he is to suffer damage during an extended trot under saddle. In short, I must consider the whole horse.

It is unfair that he hasn't the power to decide for himself. Lacking a voice, he must rely on me -- his best friend, I hope -- to listen as carefully as I can and choose for him.

Some of the answers are obvious. He wants to go! Yesterday, I tossed my Stonewall over his back for his third, short ride since he returned from the hospital a month ago. We walked the first mile, warming up, reasonably calm. But when I asked for a trot, I got full-on powerhouse mode. I wasn't wearing a watch, but I'd put that trot in the neighborhood of 18 mph. We cantered a little, too, which was heaven for us both.

And then, reluctantly, we walked again. Two miles of speed, for a horse accustomed to 15, was not enough. Aaruba turned almost instantly into a horse I didn't know. Clearly having outrun his brain, he danced and jigged, head high enough to burn his ears on the setting sun. He got light in front and even half-reared once -- a move entirely out of character for my sweet, if energetic, boy.

We circled, flexed, worked on "head-down" cues, and made it home safely. Dismounting, I felt as though I owed him an apology. I've tried to take it easy on him, you see, tried to keep his workload very low in the interest of minimizing discomfort in his gut. Alas, yesterday's message was loud and clear: I am not okay. Mental anguish is worse than physical. Please, please, please take me out more.

So I will. Perhaps there's balance to be found in more frequent, less intense rides. Or somewhere else. I'll look until I find it.

And perhaps, one day, I will be worthy of this kind award from Kimberly Cox Carneal, who is an excellent writer and the author of one of my favorite blogs, Enlightened Horsemanship Through Touch. Thanks for the encouragement, Kim. I'll do my best to earn this.
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Tough (Luck), Sucker

Well, folks. Today's the day!

The third annual Owyhee Tough Sucker no-frills 25, 50, and 75 mile rides started this morning from the Teeter ranch in Oreana. The sun is shining, the breeze is brisk, the air is crisp...and I am sitting in front of my computer.

Alas, I had planned for the Tough Sucker to be Aaruba's and my first 50 of the season. Before his serious impaction colic in March, he was nearly fit to take it on at a moderate pace. Now, due to the probable diagnosis of small intestinal adhesions, he's eating his way through a very early retirement. His frustration is at least as apparent as mine. There's no question he'd rather be in the canyonlands right now, tearing up the trails.


So would I. My backup plan was to haul Consolation down to Oreana to do the 10-mile trail ride with a friend's husband, who was also starting an endurance prospect. But, as it turned out, he decided to sell said prospect. Meanwhile, my truck announced that now is the time for a new transmission, and my little car just wasn't up to towing the gooseneck today. There went the backup plan.

On the bright side, I'm looking forward to a date with another friend, whose second-year endurance horse is laid up with a pulled muscle, to do the trail ride at Eagle Extreme next month. We'll both be on greenies in the stop-and-stare phase of training, so we're hoping not to have too much of an adventure.

Today, though, I could go for some adventure. Perhaps I'll take a little ride on Aaruba. As always, he'll try to pack 50 miles into 5 -- and I will close my eyes and feel the wind on my face, and imagine we're following that trail of pink markers like breadcrumbs through the desert, one last time.
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