"Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. The fearful are caught as often as the bold."

-Helen Keller

When I first got Ace, I knew nothing of his past. I didn't know that he was "crazy" or "dangerous" or hurt people over and over. I was told that he hadn't been ridden in a few months, I knew from experience that young arabians bred to run had energy, and I could tell that he was spirited.

So, I prepared myself mentally to fall off.

I hadn't been training horses for awhile, and Savannah was my go-to girl so I hadn't fallen off in a few years. It worried me. But, I knew that I had fallen before (many times) and that all it would take was falling once and I would get over it.

That's exactly what happened. I tried to get on Ace bareback, he bolted, I fell off. I wound up with scrapes and bruises that lasted a few weeks- but I had ALL of my confidence back.
I could fall and I would live.

That allowed me to really push Ace. That and I had no idea of his past so I never assumed he would bolt or buck or try to kill me. I assumed he was being silly and I didn't put up with anything. During this time, we were awesome together. Ace does better with A LOT of work, and I was working him.

Then, I fell off last fall. I got hurt. I got scared. Scared in a way that I had never been before. And as much as I'm over that- I can't help but know that some part of me isn't.

I know because now when I ride Ace, I go into it with a different mindset than I had before. I now know that falling COULD be a big deal. I now assume when he arches his back and grabs the bit and snorts that he is about to bolt. So, I tense my body. I hold my breath. I don't mean to, but it happens. And when I do that, he knows and it makes him worse.

But, how do you un-know something? How do I honestly train myself not to expect what experience has taught me might happen?

I know I need to fall off again. I need a branch to break, a dog to run under us, something to make Ace spook when any horse would spook and I need to come off. I need to fall and hit and hurt but realize that I lived. That really, I'm fine.
I'm going to fall. I just need to be reminded that I'll survive.

Ace has so much potential. And right now it's not his past that is wasting it.
It's our past that I can't get over.

Look at this easy-going, floating trot. Ace is beautiful. He is well-bred. He has good conformation. He's got those flashy socks! He's smart. He's loyal. Ace should be my dream dressage project. Ace should be my fearless endurance horse. Instead he sits in my pasture and I lunge him and on good days we ride in circles.

My fear is wasting him. And I'm tired of letting it. I'm not avoiding danger anymore.

Meet Savannah.

Savannah became mine when I was 10 years old, and since then she has not only taken care of me, but kept my love of horses alive. (Below: On a trail ride when I was 15.)

Savannah is nothing special, at least on paper. She has no papers, no fancy pedigree or exceptional breeding. She has poor conformation, and she's only 14.2 hands tall- technically a pony. But, she will do whatever you ask of her and she will do it with all that she has.
When I was in middle school, I was riding her down the road to spend the night at a friends house. It was only 2 miles away, so I tied my sleeping bag to the back of my saddle and off we went. I had been training her to ride bridleless, so I took the bridle off and headed on my way cantering down the road. About half way there, one of our neighbors pulled up next to me in his truck. He took one look at my little cow pony cantering down the road bridleless past cars with a sleeping bag bouncing around behind her, and offered me $3,500 on the spot. Much more than she was actually worth. I told him she was priceless, because she is. She's that type of horse.

She's slowed down a bit since then though, and when I got Ace and went off to college she was retired early to a life of eating at my parent's house and taking novice riders on occasional trail rides. However, I've pulled her out of her early retirement to help me train Ace. So, she's now up in Gainesville with me. So far I've been saddling Ace and ponying him off of her. She doesn't put up with his silliness- if he tries to bolt or spook onto her she pins her ears and bites him. I've even been lunging him in the round pen from her back, that way if he has a panic attack he can't run me over because I'm on another horse. She hasn't really been worked in two years, but she spins on her haunches while I pop a lunge whip off of her like she's never had a day off. She not only is helping me to get Ace back on the trails without worry for my safety, but she is returning the joy of horses to me. It's an unappreciated gift to be able to pull a horse out of the pasture and hop on them bareback to go for a quick ride down the road. (Below: Savannah ponying Ace. Ace standing like a cow.)



Just for fun...I found this picture today of Ace and I cantering in the March, 2010 when I first got him. Don't mind my horrible equitation, I know I'm looking down at him when I should be looking up. But, I still love it because we both look so content. This is what I want again. I want to be able to get on him, and enjoy him this much. We'll get there someday.

"It doesn't matter how much time you put into building the fence, until you hang the final gate the cows can still get out." -Dr. Dale Pracht

Dr. Pracht is a professor at the University of Florida, and he ends his final class of the semester with this quote.
It really resonates with me. It is so applicable to so many situations. So often I find myself starting projects with enthusiasm, and then dragging my feet to finish them. I do finish them- but almost never with the energy I had when I started.

I don’t want that to happen on my journey with Ace.

It’s so easy to get discouraged and frustrated. When I think we’re making progress and then we go backwards…it’s disheartening. I know I’m good at training horses, but Ace isn’t like any other horse and that’s intimidating.

What I’m doing now with Ace is building the fence.
Every time I work with him, every day that he goes without pain, every hour we spend joining-up in the round pen- all of that is the fence going up. Our fence isn’t perfect. It’s probably a little crooked. It’s being built a little bit unconventionally, without many tools. It’s a slow process. But, it’s happening and it will work. Right now, not much of it is up. We have a long way to go before we’re ready to hang the final gate.

I don’t know when we will get to that crucial last step. I don’t even know what hanging the final gate for us will be. But I’m hoping that when it happens, I’ll know it. I’ll realize that we’ve made it.

Maybe it will be the moment when I am truly able to say that I’ve proved the world wrong.
In the mean time though, I have to have faith. I have to hold onto the hope that comes from knowing that the fence is going up, no matter how slowly.

An Afternoon Training Session In Pictures

This is Ace's best cow impression. Really though, I took this to show how incredibly HOT it has been lately. See the sweat on his girth and flank area? That's from standing in the pasture in the shade at 5PM. As a result of this heat, my time working with Ace is limited to late afternoons when I don't have massive amounts of homework to do.Ace says, "Mama, why are we working today?" His goofy trot. He was focused on me- but also on everything else. He was having an off day.
I'm an arabian who doesn't know how to drop my head!
Oh wait, there we go. My head goes like this?
There's no way he can handle keeping his head down at a canter.
There's the relaxed extended trot I know he's capable of!I didn't have a tarp so I had to use a rug. Ace was a little skeptical, but he handled it well. Now if we ever encounter a wild rug on a trail ride, we are prepared! Cute baby face. If only he was always as sweet as he looks.

I know today's post was short, I really just wanted to offer some sort of update. Today was a mediocre day. It was hot, Ace was off, I was tired...I took what I could get and called it a day.