Well, I've gone and mortified myself, in classic Yvonne style, right in front of Mr Phillpot.
Actually perhaps it's his fault........
Either way, he broke me.
I was flying along in a lovely canter when like an elastic band going Twang, my lower back gave out on me. Again.
Some of you will remember this happening to me a few years previously. Riding SS does put a lot of stress in that area.
Mr P, a very lovely man but a slave driver in the arena, thought it hilarious and proceeded to announce at the top of his voice to the entire yard that he'd broken me.
Prior to that we'd being going very well. Apparently my position is excellent, just need some work on riding effectively SS with the correct aids etc. He's also promised I can play dress up before I leave.
So for this evening I will have to retreat yet again to the sofa, with drugs and hot water bottle in hand.
Here's hoping it won't put me out of action for too long.
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3 comments:
Oh No! it's hard to be all Bronte heroine-ish when you are bent over double howling ungracefully! Luckily you have already met and married D. so you don't have to worry about impressing a Rochester!
I know. It as mortifying. The elegance of side saddle and I had to have my 70 something year old coach help me off my horse........
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