|One of those "Jesus, take the wheel" distances.|
What's that they say about pride going before a fall? Not that I had a fall, but I couldn't find a distance if you gave me a ruler and a GPS. I was adding or subtracting strides like it was my job, hence the human calculator comment. (Wish I could say I made that up, but I saw it on a COTH Form and laughed so much it stuck with me). I would either chip in and floss my teeth with her mane, or leave out a stride and hope she sprouted wings. God bless her, The Sainted Mare has a very good sense of humor, and she did her best to deal with every crap distance I got her to.
Frankly, I wouldn't have blamed her if she had decided she'd had enough and simply stopped and dropped me on my butt when I got her to yet another difficult distance. I have no idea why some days I can find a rhythm and pace and other days I pickpickpick in the hopes of finding distance, or I gun her and find myself asking her to leave hopelessly long.
I was starting to feel like Charlie Brown kicking the football. You know: Good approach, get to that last crucial moment and...AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH! Clearly I don't have Lucy to contend with, but I'm sure you get my drift.
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So anyway, there I was, trying and failing and cussing like a sailor. I was sharing the lesson with my daughter and on the car ride home she said to me, "Mom, you were really frustrated. I could tell, because I've never heard some of those words before!" Stellar parenting moment. Really, and the nominee for Mother of the Year is...NOT ME.
Oh well, onwards and upwards. Try, try again. And again. And again. And again............