Health

It’s the dawn of 2011, and my garden trowel and I are slowing making progress through the workalanche that buried me the entire last quarter of 2010.

On February 1, I get back on the Parelli program, starting with a reconditioning plan for Rocky. I’ve already started one for myself. I get a head start because I’ve got further to go than Rocky does!

Michelle Young’s recent post about her life transformation on her Natural Horse Lover blog got me thinking about where I am in my journey and where I say I want to go. When you spend four years spiraling down, how long does it take to climb back up? Longer than it takes to find the center of a Tootsie Roll pop, that’s for sure. Even with horses to help you and the most amazing community of loved ones to support you.

Principle 6: Body language is universal.

In spring 2009, I took a grief-release workshop at Dragonfly Yoga Studio, led by Julie Franklin. We explored modalities such as flower essences, acupressure, mandala art, storytelling, and yoga, each with a focus on acknowledging, experiencing, and releasing grief. I learned where in my body I store the various elements of grief, trauma, and pain.

No wonder I could not develop a clear language with Rocky. Harmony was not possible with the clusters of intense emotion pulling me out of tune.

I finally called my doctor and got prescribed a low dose of Wellbutrin. I had not wanted medication because I’m so sensitive to drugs — everything stronger than ibuprofen seems to give me a bizarre mental or emotional side effect. I also didn’t want anything resembling a pre-existing condition on my Permanent Record.

But Wellbutrin made a difference immediately, like a patronus charm against dementors. Just weeks later, Rocky told an animal communicator that he felt more confident with me than he ever had before, and that the change happened from one day to the next. Guess what day? Expecto patronus, indeed.

Human Responsibility 2: Have an independent seat.

I let that be enough for a year. But in March 2010, I read in the Dragonfly newsletter that Pete of Innerfit Personal Wellness Training would be giving free introductory sessions at the studio. Innerfit is a combination of breath work, full-body strength, flexibility, core intensity, physical therapy, and the Phoenix Rising style of yoga therapy. Mid-session, I decided that instead of despairing about the impossibility of a total life transformation, I would do One Thing: hire Pete to come to the ranch twice a week.

My agreement with myself was that for six months, I would not despair about eating, exercise, jeans, weight, or how great (fit, hot, sexy, energetic…) I used to be. My definition of success would be to keep the appointments unless I was traveling out of town for work, whether I could “do” the session or not.

It’s been nine months. I have muscle tone and the first stirrings of functional fitness, and the Pete sessions continue to be a priority. Sometimes I can only stretch and breathe, which does not feel like a “real” workout. But other times I feel powerful and I surprise myself with my returning strength and athleticism.

Perfectionism is the enemy of progress.

My success in 2009 and 2010 was neither easy nor fast, and yet, it is true success because I persisted and made new life habits. I also know now that I can never again be complacent about, well, anything. Especially life habits.

So how shall I define success in 2011?

• Try one new intensely physical class or activity each month.
• Complete Parelli Level 2.
• Ride Rocky on a trail and, if he enjoys it, in a lake.

I know Rocky’s ready. I think I can be too.

Related:

Grief release and healing horsemanship (blog post May 19, 2009)

Rockstar got past two milestones today. One, he got to trot around for minutes at a time, on the 22-foot line, in the nice footing of the arena. Two, Erin moved the hotwire to double the size of his pen, so now he can pace in longer stretches and get up a little bit of speed if he needs to.

I won’t attempt to ride him until he can walk, trot, canter, buck, rear, kick, and play vigorously every day for a week. Or a fortnight. He’s been confined to pen and walking for two months now and I don’t think we can get all that pent up energy out in one session. And even this jogging and trotting thing is still under my most careful supervision. I’m probably bombarding him with energy as I stare at the back end looking for the slightest sign of gimp.

He’s a genius, of course, and keeps trying new strategies to express his self-diagnosis of readiness. First it was explode into a canter then settle to trot, at every send. Then when that didn’t get him anywhere it became a gazelle impression with each change of direction. But that isn’t getting him anywhere either, because he’s taught me how to shut him down effectively, and get him walking again. Walking energetically, even if sometimes his face is so clearly screaming with irk.

Salsa got a real bath on Saturday and will get another soon. Years of neglect left him with a crust of grime and dermatitis and while he wasn’t into the whole water thing (does he even know that it could have been worse, we could have used cold?) he did love the scrubbing.

We’re getting there, the whole herd of us fitter and healthier than we were just months ago. I think in a week I will start taking Rocky back through the level 2 on-line patterns but this time at the trot, like they are supposed to be. We’ve already followed the whole progression but due to his physical issues we could only walk. A couple of weeks of walk-trot should get us up to the level 3 walk-trot-canter patterns — on the 45-foot line, even.

I will be out of my comfort zone again, stepping up to the challenge of trying new things, present with the exponential increase in his energy when he goes into the higher gaits. The experience I gained from the surgery onward has me more confident now, more calm in the face of speed and vigor. Confident enough to enjoy the surge and marvel at his athleticism and swell with pride in my beautiful, brilliant partner.