Fear(less)…

I’ve owned or been in daily contact with horses for 21 of my 27 years. As a kid, my summers were spent riding almost daily, taking lessons, and going to endless clinics and horse shows. I fell off numerous times, sometimes two or three times in a row, but I was never seriously injured. I got back on my horse after every fall, angry and somewhat embarrassed, but never afraid. Occasionally a little shook up, but never doubting the fact that I would get back on that horse and remind them who’s running the show. I approached 2- to 3-foot jumps with confidence and trust that my horse would make it over while keeping me safely in the saddle. I galloped up hills and navigated trails, never fearing my horse or my ability to control him. I’m sure my parents were occasionally (or frequently) terrified by the fearlessness with which my sister and I rode, but I never really thought about it until this past Saturday.

I was out for a trail ride with two of my best friends. My horse and I were ahead of the other two, when the horse in the middle began kicking the horse behind her. In the process, my friend on the last horse was kicked in the leg. Immediately her leg began bleeding, and she thought it was broken, so we called the ambulance. While they were attending her, one of the first things she said to me was, “I’m afraid I won’t want to get back on.” I told her not to worry about that now and that she was going to be fine. Luckily her leg wasn’t broken, but she did receive a deep wound and a muscle tear, and it will take a while to heal.

As I was reflecting on the event later, I thought about what she said: “I’m afraid I won’t want to get back on.” And I started to wonder if I would have that thought if something serious happened to me. Even now, the fact that I’m older with a lot more responsibility has forced me to ride with more caution. I don’t ride nearly as much as I used to, so I’m not nearly as confident as I once was. But, having never been seriously injured, I still believe that I would always want to get back on. Maybe with a little more fear, and a little more caution, but sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes it’s a reminder to be more careful. Or a reminder that I’m no longer that 15-year-old girl with parents to take care of my every need. A reminder that I have jobs and a mortgage and other responsibilities that won’t go away if I get injured.

So will I be afraid the next time I go for a ride? No. But I will have one more experience in my head to remind me that I’m not invincible and that caution is never unwarranted. I hope my friend feels the same way.