I really didn’t expect my butt to hurt this much, then the backs of my knees, then finally, and viciously, my back. Today was my first horseback riding lesson. I rode Flash, or really, he tolerated me sitting on him and strolled.

My lesson started as things usually start with me. Less than perfect.

I went down to the stable and saw Flash’s head poking out of one of the stalls. “Hello Flash, I’m a little nervous, but here I am, and if you’re patient with me, we can ride,” I say. Flash sniffs rather aggressively at me, I try not to pull back. Make friends, be nice. I say to myself. I put my hand out. He just wants to sniff me. Miss Pam, my riding instructor, walks up, and smiles at me.

“Watch out for him—he bites,” she says. She gives this horse a wide berth as she passes him. “But isn’t this Flash?” I ask. “No,” she says. “That’s not Flash.”

I do not even recognize my horse. We met last week for God’s sake.

I like Miss Pam or Pam as she tells me to call her. She looks sturdy, and confident.

At least someone is.

She gets Flash out of the right stall and leads him down to our track, which is inside a huge barn. The ground is covered with sand. I begin to wonder if this is in case I falI. I get nervous all over again. I hold Flash’s reins.
“I’m sorry Flash, I thought that other horse was you. Not that you all look alike or anything. I only saw his head, and well, you are similar,” I say. Flash follows Pam. I can tell he loves her. I am a third wheel here as far as the horse is concerned. Pam looks me over. I pass inspection and I am grateful: jeans, flat heeled boots, and a thick hooded sweatshirt.

“Where’s your helmet?” she asks.

“I don’t have one,” I say. “The owner said she’d have one I could borrow.” I don’t want to tell her I didn’t want to spend the hundred bucks in case the horse terrifies me. Which he is still doing. He still looks huge to me.

“That’s okay,” smiles Pam. “I’ll get you one.” Flash stands politely. I start again. I talk to him like he is one of my dogs. “You are so handsome, Flash,” I say. “What a handsome boy”

Please don’t kill me.

Pam leads Flash over to a block. I am so relieved. I don’t even have to pretend that I know how to get on this horse. It seems I will have a step block reserved for four-year-olds and middle aged women.

I get on Flash without too much difficulty. Pam has to adjust the saddle and stirrups. I am trying to get used to being this high up.

“Heels down now,” she says. “Sit up straight in the saddle.” I am still terrified that at any moment this horse will bolt. Can this little woman control him, because I know I can’t.

“How do I make him stop?” I ask.

“He is stopped,” she says.

“No, I know,” I say, “but that is what I want to learn first.”

“Well he’s got to move first,” she says.

How do I explain to this woman that I really first want to know how to stop this big animal before he moves at all? It was the same as when I learned to drive a car. My father had the same reaction, although not near as polite as Pam’s.

“Where’s the brake?” Was the first thing I asked my father, when we got in the car in the Big Y parking lot. “How about we drive two feet first, sometime today too, the Giants are on,” he said.

Pam instructs me how to get my feet in the stirrups and she has to adjust my saddle. She shows me how to hold the reins properly. I get used to sitting on Flash. The idiot in me wants a picture of me on my mount. Here I am—I’m on the horse. Aren’t I cool? Okay, let’s go home and have a cocktail. Mid-life crisis over.

“Okay,” says Pam. “Squeeze your heels in to get him moving.” Must I? I think, we’re doing so well just kind of standing here. I need a minute. But Pam is all business. “Go ahead,” she says. “Squeeze him.” I squeeze my legs in and inwardly pray that Flash does not take off like a bolt.

He does not take off like a rocket, but merely walks gently forward. “Good boy,” I tell Flash. “Nice and easy,” I say. “Can I make him stop now?” I ask Pam again.
She looks at me strangely.

I don’t care, this will not be the first, nor the last time, I receive the ‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’ look in my life.

“Pull the reins up tightly then release,” she says. Good, the brake, I think. I test it, Flash stops.

A very good sign.

Flash and I circle the large barn, while Pam stands near the center and directs me which way to steer. It seems okay. He’s not bolting, but he does dip his head down forcefully and jostle my balance.

“Don’t let him do that,” instructs Pam. “He’s messing with you, pull the reins back. Don’t let him get away with that.”

How do I explain to this woman that I have a husband, two children, two dogs, and at any given moment, twenty or so children who pull this same crap with me almost every day of my life. I’ve yet to get any of them to stop ‘messing with me’.

I try my best teacher/mother voice. “Oh no, Flash,” I say sternly, “that’s enough now.” I pull his reins back. He listens and stops jerking forward.
Again, I’m relieved.

A little girl of about seven comes in riding a smaller horse, but still a horse, with her instructor. “Post up,” her instructor tells her, and this little tiny girl sends her horse off in a trot, well past Flash and my sleepy gait.

“Watch out,” Pam says. “Flash likes to run—he’ll follow her.” “Flash likes to run?” I ask nervously. “Well, yes,” says Pam. “He is a horse after all.” Flash is being good though and keeps with my sleep-walking gait.

I test the brake again a few times though.

Pam then instructs me how to post-up. I need to balance standing in the stirrups. “Heels down,” says Pam. I feel so awkward, and plus it hurts. “That’s right,” she says. “Up, then down, easy.” I can feel the burn in the inside of my thighs and my butt.

I wonder if I still have my Suzanne Sommers ‘thigh-master’ at home. No, that got ditched after I got married.

Damn.

“Okay, you need to dismount now.” Pam tells me. I look at her, look at the ground, and look for the block I used to get on. “No,” Pam says. “You’ve got to dismount; you can do it, release the stirrups, and hold on to the saddle…”

I cannot see the ground. I know it’s not near. I will myself not to fall on my ass. I hold the saddle, twist, push my weight onto my stomach and fall/ dismount, dropping back two steps and thankfully do not fall on my ass.

My legs are trembling though.

“Good,” Pam says. I am thrilled with myself. I did not die, and even better, did not fall on my ass….yet.

She starts to walk Flash out of the barn. “Can I do that?” I ask. “Sure,” says Pam. I lead Flash back up towards his stall in the other barn. A little girl comes walking down the trail. I get nervous, what if I let Flash go and he accidently tramples her? I hold Flash’s reins tighter to me and slow down. He slows down.

I could get used to this. For once in my life someone seems to be following my lead.

I get Flash in his stall. He is all business like most of the males I know; he goes right to his feed. The stable owner comes down. “How’d it go?” she asks. Good I tell her. “Can I brush him?’ I ask. “Sure,” she says, “but don’t get behind him while he’s eating. He could back up and knock you into the wall. I look at the hard stall wall, and the horse shit all over the floor.

“Right,” I say.

She hands me a bucket of brushes, and goes into her office. There are kittens in the barn. An old dog walks by. It’s quiet, a little chilly, but my new beautiful friend eats peacefully while I brush him. And he is so beautiful. He feels firm and smooth. I begin to feel more at ease near him. He really is a nice horse. I look around to make sure no one is looking. I give Flash a kiss on his neck, and whisper in his ear, ‘thanks for going easy on me, honey, this could have been really ugly.’ I brush him more, I lay my head on his back. “Good boy,” I say. He looks at me and I hear water running. I look down. The horse is pissing….a lot. It splashes all over my nice boots, which are covered with shit anyway. I liked the boots but I figure he has his scent on me now.

That’s got to be a good thing.

And I have an excuse to get new boots.

All and all, a good day.