April Catchup Part II: In Training!

Something important has happened this month. It deals with something I mentioned in my very first post; I called it my dream.

Barrel racing!

No, I have not yet been to a barrel race here, but Ms. Wilson has been working with me to improve my barrel skills. At first, I'd been plodding along with the rest of the beginners (I'd been placed in that group since Fancy can't jump), but one day a couple weeks ago, the whole bland, useless lesson changed when Ms. Wilson pulled Anne Marie, Kelly, and me off to the side to do some more advanced work.

What we've been doing lately is working circles around cones, using our legs and hands to make our horses bend properly. I learned this when I was taking lessons overseas, so my only difficulty now deals, not with learning, but with gaining back my stamina. My legs are a bit "floppy" as Ms. Wilson said, and I feel more effort...or should I say, I actually feel effort being needed for what I'm doing. It's a good feeling. I've actually needed to place my legs hard against Fancy's sides to keep her going, whereas before, if my legs so much as barely grazed her sides, she'd leap forward, ready to run.

Ms. Wilson had pulled out the barrels last Thursday, and I ran them just like I had when I was a kid. All it was was kick, run, and yell, "Ho!" My first round felt good, as did the second round, which I ran easier, still only adding one second to my previous time of 23 seconds.

Lauren had hopped on Ladybug to give me some competition. Sure enough, my ego soared, and I felt that kidhood rule of "no competitors are friends". The third round, Fancy was already lathered in sweat, but I foolishly ran it full speed and full game. Once at the second barrel, I hollered, "Ho!" too early and let off my inside leg. Fancy cut that barrel down like butter.

This horse had never hit a barrel in the whole time of me working with her with the exception of a day in the Katy arena when she collicked. So at this point, when she knocked down that barrel, she panicked and hopped in place, ignoring my heels digging into her sides to make her continue. After she recooperated, a devastating 6 seconds later, I gave her a slow run to the third barrel, rounded it carefully, and made the fiery devil trot back.

Her head was high, her eyes wild and flashing white, and her temper was dangerous. I had to keep her walking afterward; otherwise she would've finished me off. She was acting just like Hershall Haley's horses. For anyone who barrel raced in my area in Texas, everyone knew Hershall and his horses. The guy was an old man with a hard heart, and his way of training his horses could only have been cruel to make them as angry and wild as they were. Everyone feared Hershall's herd. And here my mount was, no different from their likes.

Not a good sign. This means that I have much work to do, and I can never run a fool run again. I can't let Fancy hit a barrel, and I can't hate the competitors. I need to focus on me and her. And if I don't straighten up, you can call me Hershall.

Ever since that day, training has gotten more serious. I'm really working hard now to learn my legs and hands. Ms. Wilson has me working on spiraling in and out around a cone, which is really helping. She also had me do an exercise in which I cantered a circle around a cone and did the same thing around another cone. Fancy and I can't turn as tight as we used to, but it's a work in progress. We'll get there. And we'll be ready for the barrel race on May 2.