ow.

[rm]

You know, yesterday after the horseback riding lesson, I was sore, and I knew in the next couple of days I'd be more sore. But I got home, and after an hour or two, I felt fine, and sort of shrugged it off.

Oh. My. God.

My left shoulder loathes me (and honestly, with the way it feels I'm realizing I probably couldn't have even gotten on to the damn horse had I not been working out the last few weeks). My right thigh isn't too happy (but I pulled it getting up on the horse the first time, so I knew that was going to be bad). And really, everything just bloody hurts to the point of there being no point in doing an inventory of it. And I know it will be worse tomorrow.

I have no idea why I am doing this, beyond a temporary burst of insanity. I know it's difficult, that I think it's funny, and that it's giving me a vague sense of accomplishment. I know I also like what I feel like sitting up there, and that I wouldn't if the posture wasn't natural to me. I look good on the stupid horse, and that matters (I am the vainest tomboy you will ever meet, especially considering that I nearly never wear makeup).

Meanwhile, I live in horror that I may have to make the damn horse trot next time, like all by myself. You have to understand, I don't know how to ride a bike, or drive a car or anything, and in general, have a horror of things that go fast. I'll only rollerblade in a rink, and it still bloody terrifies me. Poor Emily. I told her to start and stop a lot.

Also, hey, is that business about getting right back on the horse after you fall off -- well... like does that mean I _am_ going to fall off the horse eventually? I was lying awake about that last night. *shudder*

Speaking of vanity -- I bought stretch jeans and ugly boots at K-Mart for under $40 total, and not only do both seem to be working out perfectly (although if I keep up with this, I'll get paddock boots, because the heavily treaded sole on my crappy boots do hook in the stirupps in a way I'm not liking at times), everyone keeps telling me how good they look. I don't wear jeans. I wind up with a pair like every five years or so for whatever reason, but I don't wear jeans. Well these babies make my ass look like it hasn't since I was twenty-two. So let me tell you, all things are possible. K-Mart!

Edited to add: Okay, sitting still isn't too bad. Moving around -- not too bad. The act of sitting down? Sweet Jesus. I know exactly what I did to deserve this. Ow.

Comments

[tsarina.livejournal.com]

My mom rode a lot in her teens, and she used to compete on the jumps. Every so often the horse will decide that it just doesn't want to go over that little fence or those poles. Her horse skidded to a stop and threw her off, over the jump. She was so pissed.