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26 March 2007 @ 10:40 pm
 
When last we encountered our fearfulless LJer, she’d spent a day making Teriyaki wings, nursing somewhat tender thighs from a jaunt on The Best Joust Horse Ever, getting all emotional over an animated movie and tending her blood-soaked yet no less awesome spouse, barleymash...

On Sunday morning, I was still in a world of ouch thanks to the female reproductive cycle. Still, I’d promised you that I would make it to kickboxing. I couldn’t let y’all down. Don wasn’t quite up to it, and rightly so. When I showed up without him (keep in mind he’s gone with me three times, now), half a dozen people asked after him. hee! They so love him.

Since my thigh muscles were still unhappy from Friday’s ride, it was no surprise that every single frelling exercise was designed for maximum Kelly-torture. Seriously - we spent about fifteen minutes on a series of squats/plies/lunges. I hated my life and my flabby body so very very much for every blasted second. Then, we did a series of fifteen second exercises: jabs, then squat-jumps, mountain climbers, hold a deep squat, repeat... and so on. The kicker (no pun intended) was when we were working with the Badass Mittens. (On a side note I was paired with a very cool girl (young_will, you’ve worked with her!) who thought I was crazy strong (I’m reallyREALLY not; she’s just new); she actually called me a ‘pit bull’ at one point. I’m just focused, trying to do the exercises right. Oh, and I warned her I make noises when I hit, especially when I’m flagging. It helps me breathe, and it helps me focus. So sue me.) Our final exercise was this: the person with the Badass Mittens held then up and sank into a lunge. The other person did a series of front kicks with the right leg. Then, Badass Mitten holder lunged onto the other leg while their partner did left leg front kicks. Naturally, I was Badass Mitten holder first; by the time I got to the kicks, my thighs were good and pissed off at me and at life in general. I managed, but my kicks were piss poor.

Why am I describing this in such detail? So you know the state of my body when I went up to Argus Farms that afternoon. I’d had no intention of riding, but hey... J. sort of poked me and said, “Go get Dante!” and so I had no choice. Really. hee. A. already had Oso on cross-ties, and C. brought Shadow in. R. saddled up Boo, and there were a couple of lessons going on, so the ring was mighty full. We must’ve been up there for at least an hour an a half, maybe more like two hours. Dante was lovely (note to vampcurse, he looks amazing!!! Just gorgeous.), though he tried to pull the ‘I’m stopping at the gate!’ gambit. That lasted all of three seconds. “Bugger. I remember Oso’s rider. She doesn’t let me pull that crap.” It’s so strange; I’ve ridden my OsoPony for so long I’m fully accustomed to his cues and quirks. Took me a while - and I’ve a ways to go before I’m actually really GOOD - to get tuned into Dante again. And I’ve jousted on him before, and I’m not a completely sucky rider, so it’s not like I don’t know... I just want to be perfect, spot-on, flawless all of the time, and hey! surprise! I’m not. But anyway, it was a fun ride, and good work for me. Then C. let me take a spin on Shadow, and might I say Wheeeeeeeeee! She gave me a little bit of ‘you’re not C. and we’re going to go sideways!’ and I was tentative, ‘cause she’s not my horse and I don’t want to be a bully, but that was all good within minutes. And she’s a waaay smooth ride, and fun and fast and sassy. I felt huge on her, though, me with my crazy long legs and stupid huge hips. And then... they asked if I wanted to get on Lucy, an adorable little roan pony. I was worried. I felt like frackin’ Giganta (only with less leopard print and far less of a mad-on for Wonder Woman), J. assured me it was fine, and so I hopped up. The stirrups were set to someone else’s much shorter leg. “Oh, and she bucks before going into the trot or canter!” I was warned. Swell. So I rode her around, and trotted her (no buck) and, when told I absolutely had to try it, nudged her into a canter (still no buck - woot!). And oh... this pony has a canter that is like a delicate little box, wrapped in iridescent paper, tied up with a shiny silver ribbon. Ye Gods, it’s beyond pretty.

So yes... lots of riding, lots of switching mounts...

This morning, I was a mess. My thighs and glutes are staging a silent protest. I, however, am far from silent. I’ve been groaning with every step. And yet I’m happy, because it means I’m getting into some sort of shape. And tomorrow night is another kickboxing class, because I am NOT dodging out again. So sick of being flabby and weak, and fully determined to Change Things, Posthaste.





waffle
 
 
I feel: soreow!
 
 
 
Katevegryffindor on March 27th, 2007 03:21 am (UTC)
I am always so jealous of your horsie stories. :)
Stealth Chaos Butterflybunnymcfoo on March 27th, 2007 04:59 am (UTC)
kel, my darling, why are you preoccupied with breakfast food?
Kel: contemplative Fraserladyjoust on March 27th, 2007 09:49 pm (UTC)
It's a situational waffle. *sigh*
Jobs, baby, Jobs!picoland on March 27th, 2007 10:40 am (UTC)
don't feel silly about the vocalizations- we did them all the time in kung fu- it's part of cycling the energy through the body. Especially the chi gung exercises.
hiipe...... hwaaah!
Vampcurse: Kermit YAYvampcurse on March 27th, 2007 12:21 pm (UTC)
Jeanne is teaching me not to let Dante pull that 'stopping at the gate' thing. Boogerhead! But I love him to bits! and Thank you btw. Dante's muscles in his legs kill me! I wish I could tone up that quick!

I want to go up there the day they come back to faire and groom him all pretty before he leaves. :) Hopefully I can!

I may be going up tomorrow night (Wednesday) if you are interested.