By: Maye Stichter
Integrated LA, Period 2
Tangled In Tears
I was the unlucky one, and ended up with a frisky, insane quarter horse, Leaving me to be tangled in a fence. Sitting there on the cold ground with groups of people surrounding me, being just thrown off is not how I imagine the perfect show to be like. It was mid october, when there was a cold, raw breeze that passed through once in a while, making the horses out of control.
Now it was the show day, and I was just about ready to leave. This would have to be my least favorite part, packing and making sure I have everything and getting myself ready.
Lenny is probably one of the best horses to load onto the trailer, so… it wasn’t such a big struggle… for me at least. He just walks right into the trailer without a problem. Which made me feel confident that that day would be the best.
While we are in the car, I start getting mixed feelings about the show (Even though the jumps are as small as the width of a 1,000 page book, not that big). But then it got to me, how am I supposed to do this when I didn’t practice the most that I could of. Like, I could have ridden all of this past week, and the week before that. But I only rode two times this week, and nothing the week before that.
Then my mom tells me to relax and let the horse do all the work (this time). When we arrive, there is so much noise that it’s too hard to focus on anything. I couldn’t even focus on what I was thinking or even worrying about. Which I thought was okay. It was about time for me to start getting ready for my jumping round, when a slight breeze came through. It was mid october, and was super windy. And since we were at Frazier Farm (a show barn) in the mountains, it was quite windy, and chilly. Which then resulted in Lenny being frisky (which in the long run, is not good for either of us).
Before I start to get ready with putting on my tight and suffocating clothes and my stiff, shiny tall boots and get all tacked up with my freshly cleaned tack, I sit in the car protecting myself with the seat warmers blasting to keep me warm from the raw, chilliness of fall. As I watch the clock tick second by second, I begin to worry again about my class.
By the time I finished struggling to get Lenny ready, it was 9:45, and my class starts at like 10:00. Only 15 minutes away. I had began getting ready at 9:00, and even with the help of my family. It took forever. As we all walk over to the arena, the breeze comes through again. Making Lenny a little uptight, and giving me the goosebumps. Not good. When they announced my name, the breakfast that I had just finished started going north. But then I chugged a bottle of water so that it would settle. I started into the arena and began my circle, and headed towards my first inch sized jump. As the first few jumps go by, I feel as if I can conquer this whole thing, and I would win first place, until… I finished the last jump for my round. I then started to notice a change in speed.
For instance, when you ride a horse, you can set a speed that you want to go at and you can decide from there how fast or slow you want to go depending on what you’re doing.
With that in mind, this ride was special. I was going at racehorse speed (which was not what I wanted), yet I was still able to feel the sun beaming on my face while the crisp fall breeze brushed against my face. It was so pleasant, it made me feel warm inside, and joyful. I had forgotten just about everything, and soaked up as much sun as possible.
Until I realize that there’s a fence right in front of me!
I can’t turn or stop Lenny because he’s going so fast. If I turned Lenny to the left, I would get thrown into the fence. And if I didn’t turn him, then he would attempt to jump the fence, and end up smoothing me like a mug under a show. Which would result in me not being here right now. So then my mom races in the ring and tries to turn him with one rein from foot. Instead of the nice sun beaming on my face, and the taste of my oatmeal breakfast, instead I can taste the sweet, salty, scared tears forced into my mouth by the wind. And before you know it…I’m wishing I had magic powers to fix my broken leg, and not headed to the emergency walk-in-clinic.
I had a major fracture in one of my growth plates on the inside of my left knee. I was in so much pain when I had it checked out. I was wearing these extremely tight rubber like riding pants (breeches), and in order for the doctor to look at my knee, I had to take of my pants, and sit on the freezing cold doctors table, as he prepared the x-ray machine. I was carried all over the place from room to room with my parents and doctor.
The whole time I was crying non-stop, and couldn’t help but think of the pain I was going through at that moment. It was nearly impossible for me to follow the doctor’s instructions because I was in major pain. So, he got really frustrated at me, but he was there to help me…so I sucked it up the most that I could and let him take the x-rays, and swallow the medicine necessary.
Oh how the medicine tasted so bad. I was sitting on this freezing cold examination table, waiting for the doctor’s to get the x-ray machine ready. Could they GO any slower. They were having these side conversations, and one of them was even talking about what they did yesterday at the carnival in town. I was crying gallons, and they had the crutches and braces in their hands for me. Yet they choose to stand their and talk about their lives, and not worry about mine. It was so frustrating. And my parents were constantly petting and grooming my hair and asking me, ¨sweetie, are you okay? Sweets, you good? Do you need anything sweetie?¨ First of all, I was hot, and their hot hands were all over my head and face. Second of all, I was not okay… and obviously in pain. And third of all, I hated the word ¨Sweetie¨. But whatever.
After continuous conversations, and decision making, we decided that we’d put a brace on my knee. We got prescribed medicine, and were given a pair of crutches, and headed back to Frazier Farm to pick up Lenny, and tell everyone that I was okay.
When we got to Frazier Farm, Haile (my least favorite person, and now my very close friend) said, ¨So, how’s it going Racing Wimp?¨
Haile was one of my competitors that was watching me during my fall. She still calls me that to this day (secretly). It reflects on me not being in control of my horse going at racehorse speed, and then being thrown into a fence.
¨Haile, stop calling me a Racing Wimp. Because it doesn’t make me feel good.¨ I said
¨That’s the point, you goof.¨ Haile said
¨Okay listen,¨ I said, ¨If you´re going to call me names, then we really should not be friends (like we were ever) or even see each other ever again. Because you will soon realize how bad of a person you are to say such things to someone who just nearly died. Which avoiding you won’t be hard since I’m movin up a level.¨
She walked away with sass, and went back to bossing people around, per usual.
Even though I had a broken knee, and tears rolling down my face, I still talk to that girl to this day. She turned out to realize that she did a stupid thing, and became a better person. Once in awhile she will bring it up again. But I will let her talk whatever because I know it’s in the past, and she was jealous as to how after my accident, I was riding a lot better than ever. She still makes me laugh, and we still hang out together. So, I guess that without a doubt, she is still my ¨Hay to my Haile,¨ or my ¨Hay to my horse.¨ These are just nicknames that we call each other on a very, real occasion.