Johann has always wanted us to go horseback riding. For one of his birthday gifts this past September I told him we would go to Mojave Narrows the following weekend and ride together.
I had never been before but Johann had a couple times while growing up. It was easy to see who was more comfortable on a horse and telling it what to do. And it was not me. I have no misconceptions that I'm in control of a giant animal that can kill me and I'm pretty sure the horse knew I lacked backbone with it.
I guess they could both tell I had relaxed a bit and she mentioned trying to trot since Johann had wanted to do that earlier. I said I thought I felt ready and she told me to click the horse with my heels but before I even could she and Johann had gotten their horses going and mine shot forward like a crazed racehorse. I was a ways behind Johann and suddenly I was right by his horse, bouncing up and down in the saddle and unable to even think of what to do. All I can remember is yelling, "I'm jumping, I can't stop jumping!" until WHAM I was down to the left side of my horse seeing its hooves by my face, moving away, thankfully.
I cannot remember the last time I felt that kind of pain. I literally could not move. Once they realized I was down they stopped and came over but I don't do well with interaction when I'm in intense pain and basically said something a little more polite but along the lines of, "everyone shut up and leave me alone, I can't move and will try when I'm ready but stop looking at or talking to me!"
The next thing I did can only be accounted for with pride because as I very, very slowly got up and tried to have the function of my left side and move my back I acknowledged the instructor and said I would get back on the horse. SERIOUSLY? That demon spawn named, 'JIGGY'! What was I thinking. If I could do things over again I would say, to heck with it being Johann's birthday gift, find a quad and shuttle me back to the car and take me to get looked at.
It took probably 10 minutes after the fall but I was standing and then we put the stirrup down because I couldn't lift my leg hardly anymore (um, probably a sign to stop) and mounted that psycho creature.
Then we rode back; the most painful 15 minutes of a ride ever. The horse tried to get going again but thankfully this time I pulled the reins, probably too hard but whatever, I wasn't going to let the thing finish me off. I pretty much held the reins back the entire rest of the way.
We got back and headed to the car and came home. I laid down on Henry's bed because I couldn't get onto ours, Johann took Henry and Thea to Henry's soccer game and then I let myself cry and pass out on my stomach.
I couldn't hold Thea or function normally for about 3 days and then could with pain and discomfort for another week or so. I don't think I'm a big softie with pain but I hurt so much at night sometimes in the same spots I injured during the fall, especially since being pregnant (which I was I now know very early on when we went riding-gah).
So what's the point of this story aside from my obvious need for catharsis? NEVER EVER let me ride a horse again. First of all, I don't like trying to tell big animals what to do. Second I'm convinced my short and big thighs are not made to keep me on a horse. Like James Herriot I am not a 'horse(wo)man'. Finally, I've mentioned before how I feel like Johann's past birthdays have been marred but I am hopeful that there is a strong chance his 30th will have to be better than the car breaking down and his wife almost being killed by a horse with the stupidest name possible. *Knock on wood*