First Steps

I’m doing it.  After 20 years off, I am determined to find my way back into the horse world.  I started out riding Western on a stubborn pony when I was 12.  I soon realized English was how I was meant to ride and competed in both hunter/jumper and eventing. It all came to a crashing (and crushing) halt when mom and dad stopped paying the bills.  They had realized the horse board alone was more than my residence at university.

I am tired of people responding to my heart aching for a horse with the suggestion I just go for a trail ride or find a horse in a field somewhere.  I try to get them to understand with this, “If you used to race Porsches, and someone offered to lend you their Ford Focus for an afternoon to drive around the neighbourhood, do you really think it would be the same thing?”

So I am calling around to riding schools, thinking I should get the basics back in gear before I take it any further.  But this is more difficult than you would think.

My favourite is the one where the responses went something like this;

“We can get you in Thursday evening classes starting in two months. What is your experience level?”

“You haven’t ridden in 20 years? In that case you have to take private lessons first.  We have Saturdays at 12:45 available and you have to commit to six weeks in a row, pre-paid, no cancellations.”

“You work every third Saturday? Well, how are you going to make it then?”

“You can’t just tell them you are going riding instead? Huh.”

“No, we won’t let you in any group lesson until you take the private lessons. For one, we don’t know if you have the fitness level for it.”

“So you work out everyday and run marathons? You qualified for the Boston Marathon? Well, that doesn’t mean you can do a riding lesson.  It’s different you know….”

Me: Sigh.

After similarly unhelpful conversations I happen upon a little riding school with all the flexibility in the world.  It’s small, and the horses on the website do have the look of a Ford Focus, but the people sound friendly and it is time to take the plunge.  I am nervous as can be.  I don’t have breeches.  Will my 20 year old helmet in the basement offer any protection?  How bad will I be? How bad will they be? What if I have forgotten everything? My heart is my throat.  I am so excited.  I am terrified.  My mouth is dry.

I’m going to check them out.