Wet, Hot Air

It is hot. I step outside of the office into a wet oven. That is how I describe this CT humidity. My nose beads with sweat, I get sweat in places that don’t need to be shared, and just FYI - I sweat like a man. Possibly an NBA player. Something along those lines. After three years of living here I am still not used to the sticky, grimy, disgusting layer of thick air on my skin. That urge to immediately shower is hard for me to combat. I mean seriously, how am I supposed to function in this and survive my ride tonight? The temps don’t show a major drop – wow we’re going from 90-to 88. Whoopie. Side note – this is not a complaint about heat per se. This is a complaint about humidity. End rant.

Introduction

The Short Version:

I am a 20something rerider currently living in the Northeast.

 

The Long Version:

I am a 20something rerider currently living in the Northeast.

Haha nah, just kidding. I am orginally from Ca – specifically the ‘Bay Area’and have only lived over here on the east coast for about three years. I work a sedentary office job, and live with two roommates.

I started riding at age seven on a QH schoolie named Sanity. I suppose you could say I wanted to be like my cousin who is a year and a half older than me. She was very into horses as was my sister, so what did I want to do? Um, be like them, duh.

I grew up riding at a small barn. By small I mean two horses and two mules. A couple of dogs. Throw in a chicken. That’s about it and I loved it! One of the great things about riding at a place like this is that I got a ton of individualized attention. I got to ride an appendix QH with no whoa and learned the value of voice commands very quickly. “Easy” became a very popular word in my vocabulary. I showed locally as a preteen doing wtc eq and pleasure classes and then moving up to the 2ft hunters. After a couple of years (it might have been less) my instructor started to let me ride ‘her’ horse, Homey. Ahh Homey. My love. My heart horse. He was a 8-9 year old OTTB. Beautiful bay, two hind white socks, a blaze. A lovely, lovely personality. Again, no whoa. We learned SO much from each other. He and Pepsi, the Appendix, and Karen, my instructor,  literally taught me everything I know about riding and horses in general. They molded me into a soft-handed yet firm and focused rider. By the time I hit 15-16 years old, Homey and I were competing at 2’6 hunters. 

After that comes the ‘break’. Break = boys. Yes. I was one of them. My ‘break’ lasted about eight years and the result was three failed relationships and a divorce.I will say that I don’t necessarily regret this break.



Being a rerider now, I feel that I am even more focused, even more dedicated and commited to riding and horses. It’s a great feeling. That foundation of riding I aquired throughout my preteen/teen years will always be with me and the focus, competitiveness, soft-handedness etc have carried into adulthood. As I ‘relearn’ everything I once knew, my hopes and aspirations get even bigger, better, and more realistic, I feel, than before.  I am excited to not only challenge myself daily but achieve and perfect each challenge I face.

notice white troxel from 10+ yrs ago.

Wow I feel like this is way too long and probably a little emo. If you stuck through and read this entire thing, I congratulate you. You get the Champion Sash.