Ouch.
Yea, so, you remember that fall? Where I got bucked off and hit the deck really hard and thought I was basically ok afterward? Those of you who know me in real life know exactly what I’m talking about, because that’s pretty much all I’ve talked about for the past week and a half. I got bucked off and lived. Oh, yea, I hit hard, yep, I’m a tough one all right. Lookit me, I’m riding again! Oh fuck, that hurts.
I finally went riding again the Sunday after the lesson during which I had the fall, we went out on a hack and it was a great, sunny day. We went up the powerlines to look for the mystery trail we’d been looking for for the past year. En route, we encountered many groups of people out on their sleds, in packs of 2 and 3 and 4. Mico used to freak out in sheer equine panic at the sight of any off-road vehicle, but by the second or third group we encountered, he finally must have figured out that the snowmachines weren’t going to eat him, and permitted me to carefully navigate him past to open trail.
We found the trail, and traveled down it a ways until we came to what we assumed was a wooden bridge of some sort covered in snow pack. Not knowing what it was made of (could have been anything from plywood to oak), or a place where we could safely ford the stream, we turned around rather than risk the horses’ legs on unknown footing. As we made our way back to the powerlines, I became aware of the fact that my lower back was beginning to hurt pretty bad, and hurt even more whenever Mico punched through the snow pack or stepped roughly over the irregular terrain. Still, it was too nice of a day to bail out, so we trotted and galloped our way down the powerlines back to the road, even dismounting at one point to lead the horses through a wider stream. My sweet new winter riding boots are waterproof, it’s the zippers that aren’t. But my feet stayed warm, damp as they were.
So I was planning to ride at the indoor on Wednesday of this week, Christine found a wool-flocked Wintec Isabell to try on Mico, since we figured the bucking might be caused by improper saddle fit. As the day wore on, my lower back, ass, hip and thigh muscles began to hurt more and more, and that was just during the course of my usual workday. Fuck it, I thought, I made a decision to call the doctor and see if I could get in for an appointment and get some x-rays. I wanted to be sure there was nothing really wrong, and figured if I took time to let it heal now, so I wouldn’t be dealing with a recurring injury during the event season. I went, got checked out and x-rayed, and although I don’t know the results of the x-rays yet, I do know that I’ve been grounded for a couple of weeks at least.
I walked out of the doctor’s office with a fistful of anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants, as well as a prescription for 6 weeks of physical therapy. Dr. S poked and prodded, and told me several times that I was tough. She should have heard my complaining the past couple of weeks. So now, Tony is out riding with Christine and Katrina, who gets to enjoy Mico’s craptacular cantering along with Christine, who assures me that they’ll keep him going until I can get on again. Still, I feel out of sorts and useless. But now I have an ironclad excuse to slack on the couch, and who knows, maybe it will be milder when I get to ride again.
I finally went riding again the Sunday after the lesson during which I had the fall, we went out on a hack and it was a great, sunny day. We went up the powerlines to look for the mystery trail we’d been looking for for the past year. En route, we encountered many groups of people out on their sleds, in packs of 2 and 3 and 4. Mico used to freak out in sheer equine panic at the sight of any off-road vehicle, but by the second or third group we encountered, he finally must have figured out that the snowmachines weren’t going to eat him, and permitted me to carefully navigate him past to open trail.
We found the trail, and traveled down it a ways until we came to what we assumed was a wooden bridge of some sort covered in snow pack. Not knowing what it was made of (could have been anything from plywood to oak), or a place where we could safely ford the stream, we turned around rather than risk the horses’ legs on unknown footing. As we made our way back to the powerlines, I became aware of the fact that my lower back was beginning to hurt pretty bad, and hurt even more whenever Mico punched through the snow pack or stepped roughly over the irregular terrain. Still, it was too nice of a day to bail out, so we trotted and galloped our way down the powerlines back to the road, even dismounting at one point to lead the horses through a wider stream. My sweet new winter riding boots are waterproof, it’s the zippers that aren’t. But my feet stayed warm, damp as they were.
So I was planning to ride at the indoor on Wednesday of this week, Christine found a wool-flocked Wintec Isabell to try on Mico, since we figured the bucking might be caused by improper saddle fit. As the day wore on, my lower back, ass, hip and thigh muscles began to hurt more and more, and that was just during the course of my usual workday. Fuck it, I thought, I made a decision to call the doctor and see if I could get in for an appointment and get some x-rays. I wanted to be sure there was nothing really wrong, and figured if I took time to let it heal now, so I wouldn’t be dealing with a recurring injury during the event season. I went, got checked out and x-rayed, and although I don’t know the results of the x-rays yet, I do know that I’ve been grounded for a couple of weeks at least.
I walked out of the doctor’s office with a fistful of anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxants, as well as a prescription for 6 weeks of physical therapy. Dr. S poked and prodded, and told me several times that I was tough. She should have heard my complaining the past couple of weeks. So now, Tony is out riding with Christine and Katrina, who gets to enjoy Mico’s craptacular cantering along with Christine, who assures me that they’ll keep him going until I can get on again. Still, I feel out of sorts and useless. But now I have an ironclad excuse to slack on the couch, and who knows, maybe it will be milder when I get to ride again.
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