On Saturday, a life long dream was accomplished: riding a horse (who liked to run) over sand dunes and across a beach (very Lawrence of Arabia).
My horse, Storm, loved to run. Unfortunately, the other thing she liked was biting the other horses, which was good cause when we got to the beach, she took the lead the had a great time, but was also bad because anytime anyone else got close, she went for them. She was like the Mike Tyson of horses, if she wasn’t going to win fair, she was going to win by inflicting facial reconstructive surgery.
The ride was two and a half hours, and if you haven’t ridden in a long time, that is a long time. By the end my thighs were saying “I can’t go up and down anymore, please stop, oh good, we are cantoring, this is better, nope, ouch, shouldn’t have stopped doing those squats”
As expected, when we got off, we could barely walk, and as expected the next day was worse. My lower body hurt so much, I really was walking like an elderly person who had misplaced their cane and was doing the best they could.
At one point on Sunday I had to run to a car, which caused strangers to stare and my friends to laugh, because me old-lady running also looks like floppy baby elephant running (see example video)