I rode Gelfling again on Thursday. The ring was really mucky (wet sand and rubber) but we had a nice night. We did ground poles, bending exercises, a little trot here and there. There was a big puddle on the right side of the ring, right under the light, and she would walk through it fine on her left side but going right she’d dance around it, completely avoiding stepping in it. My goal for the night was to get her through it on the right and convince her that she wouldn’t die doing it. It was a long conversation, tight circles when she skirted sideways, using different aids to see what got through to her the best…it took us a good 10 minutes but I was so happy when she finally did it because that means she trusted me not to lead her to certain death and I, for the most part, trusted her not to throw me off! It’s nerve-racking when you want a horse to go straight and they decide to move sideways – it’s unexpected and a little scary on a horse you don’t know well. I didn’t get that heart-in-your-throat feeling when she did it though because like I said before, I feel like we’ve been working together forever. I didn’t at all feel like she’d toss me off. And that’s not to say that she wouldn’t out on a trail (she gets the dolphin-buck going when she gets nervous), she is a mare after all, but I would love to take her out. Finding that one horse you really click with is a lot like falling in love. You don’t pick who it happens with – it just happens. Gelfling’s not the most attractive mare right now. She’s underweight, under muscled, her mane needs a desperate pulling and her tail is matted. Her coat lacks luster and her eyes are tired but after a good brushing her hair does have some shine to it and I’ve never seen anyone else ride her but when I’m on her she perks right up and the exhausted brood mare eyes look like a filly’s. I still think she’s beautiful though. She licks my hand and buries her face in my arm and sighs. She leans into me when I brush behind her ears and she really is one of those horses that needs a best friend. She needs to be someone’s number one and I would just absolutely love that. Her personality reminds me of Falcon.
And how could I write an entry without complaining about something?
I was doing my ½ hour run at the gym today and there are mirrors parallel to the treadmill and I was watching myself run (carefully, as to not fall off the thing) and I realized that I don’t really like a whole lot about my body. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful that I have a BMI of 21 (25 is considered overweight) and a lot of that is due to muscle. I’m thankful that my stomach is flat and that there’s no ‘roll’ when I sit down and lean over. I’m thankful that I’m not flat-chested. I’m thankful that my back is so well muscled that a few guys I know are jealous. I’m thankful that there is zero cellulite on my body and I’m thankful that my sister gets grossed out when she pokes me in the stomach and realizes it’s rock-hard. But even after that list, I still find things to pick apart: I’m too tall (thankfully, John’s got 1½ inches on me), I can’t tan, I wish I was a little bustier (John assures me he loves me just the way I am), I wish my eyes were blue and not hazel, I wish I could pack more muscle onto my calves and thighs faster, I wish my arms wouldn’t take so long to fill out. I am grateful though, that there are girls who are stockier than me, who are thicker than me and who are chubbier than me that think they’re ‘thin’. That at least makes me feel better. Like D’s girlfriend who wears a tight shirt that you can see a belly button indent through. She thinks she’s skinny so I must look like a super model comparatively speaking. John’s not a real mushy kinda guy, which is good, so when he compliments me I really believe it – but all the compliments in the world won’t make me think I have the ideal body until I achieve it. And then I’ll get pregnant and ruin the whole thing, just you watch. Seriously though, I just have to accept the fact that I won’t be happy until that small, insignificant layer of fluff on my hips is gone. I love food too much to starve myself but there is going to be a serious work-out schedule even more hardcore than I’ve been doing. I don’t want a body that society deems perfect – I want MY perfect body. When I turn down a chocolate muffin because the 48g of sugar in it would completely facot out the work-out I did, John gets annoyed because I 'already have a great body and there's no fat on your damn hips'. Well I see it and that's what matters. I have until August to get what I want and it's rapidly approaching.
I still have 8 mor classes to take before I can start clinicals. I'm going to take an online "Ethical Issues in Healthcare" course over the summer. Then I'm down to 7 - I should finish by spring of next year, hopefully. Off to the gym...