Today, I rode on Andy, a chestnut colored pony. He's been with Joan for twenty years; she acquired him when he was four.
Joan had me trotting and posting. That's when you lift your butt out of the saddle with the rhythm of the horse's jog. I bounced more than I posted.
An hour later, my left knee screamed in pain and my foot and ankle tingled from going to sleep.
I didn't feel elated after this lesson as I did after my first one. Andy had a stubborn streak. There were times he would just stop. Just stop. He was so well trained by Joan that he would follow her voice commands. Moreover, he was so trained on what to do that he did it out of habit. So by the end of the lesson, it was apparent that he just ignored me.
Combine that with my tendency to give him mixed signals by holding the reins too tightly or too loosely while he trotted and I posted--I mean bounced--in the saddle while trying not to fall out of the saddle. Well, no wonder Andy ignored me and paid more attention to Joan.
At one point, Andy moved from a trot to a canter. Somehow, I managed to stay in the saddle while Diane, the other instructor, chased after me to catch Andy by his bridle. I pulled back on the reins. Joan yelled "Andy stop."
Holy shit!
It was all over within seconds. No harm done. The situation just illustrates that I have much more to learn about riding a horse.
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