Why do you continue to ride?
Thanks, L for another great blog post idea.
When I started riding at age 11, I believe the most people thought it was a cute phase and that I’d grow out of it. Then I quit one sport after another, preferring to ride, and later work, at the stable rather than do anything else. When I started college, I was horse-less, but continued to introduce myself, “Hi, I’m Genny, I ride horses.” Pretty much everything I thought someone needed to know.
While riding in college was scattered, I embraced new things, but continued to dream about riding. The fancy walls and benches around camppus were always elaborate jumping courses I would run through in my head as I walked between classes, and I would stop to pet the police horses any chance I got. Pretty sure my husband secured our future together in the first 15 minutes of our first date when he told me he had a fiery chestnut at home I could come ride.
To me, they were a part of my history, and ingrained in the very way that I think. Anyone else hold their steering wheel with their pinkys on the outside? I do.
Once I got out of school and could afford to both eat and ride, I was back at it. Why? Because I don’t know how not to! Every time I swing my leg over a horses back I get this ridiculous sense of home, and that I do belong somewhere. Do I sometimes want to give in because of the cost? Because of the strain it puts on other parts of your life? OF COURSE.
But that is always squelched by the fact that it would be giving up my favorite part of myself. So that’s why I continue to push to be better, to know my horse, and to enjoy every second of saddle time.