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Our Sport

I've been doing some reflecting lately on the sport of endurance.  I find 
that the word competition has taken on a whole new meaning to me since my 
last ride, where I almost lost Dance Line.  It was a wake up call to me and, 
even though alot of you were talking to me earlier, telling me my competitive 
posture was not the correct one to take, I didn't listen to you. Barbara, you 
were right.  Well, I'm listening now.

So, lately I've been riding Dance, with Jennifer and Rebel, but we don't go 
very far.  To say the least, I've become gun-shy with Dance and I have been 
cutting the rides short, even though I know Rebel needs the training.  I did 
find a sponsor for Jen and she'll be doing another 50 at our next ride.  

Today I took my 3 and a half year old Paint out on the trail with Jennifer 
and Rebel.  Rebel usually won't pass another horse, but he got bored 
following my young mare, who does back flips when she spots a butterfly, so 
Jen and Rebel passed us.  And, for once, I got to see my kid ride in front of 
me.  I gotta tell ya, she's damn good. So is the horse, the one I thought was 
worthless when I rode him

After a few miles I had to ask Jen to slow down.  My mare was wiped out.  
It's kind of funny trying to ride a non-endurance horse with an endurance 
one.  The difference in the two was phenomenal; my gal was breathing hard and 
really tired; Rebel had not even broken a sweat.  He was just getting warmed 
up, she wanted to go home now.

I just wanted to let you know I'll never quit the sport, but I probably have 
modified my way of looking at it quite a bit.  I'm still in awe of how my 
story about Dance took over Ride Camp, for almost a week; it actually seemed 
to be bigger than Angie's breasts; well, I mean the story about them.  

Anyway, thanks to those of you who told me you cared so much; Tom, I knew you 
would call the story mush, I didn't write it for you (no naked women); John, 
I do believe Arab blood rules in our sport; Angie, why no reaction, don't you 
love me anymore?  To those of you who thanked me cause you pulled your horse 
at a ride early, because of my story, I guess I'm glad, but I'd hate to be 
the one who made that kind of change to your riding.  I am not you, and I bet 
you're more careful than I was;  I'd be happier if you finished.  And to 
those of you who decided to judge me,  if you didn't think I was already 
hurting, you didn't read the story.  The pain was already there, your words 
didn't sting me as much as you had probably hoped. For once (and I'll try not 
to repeat it), I told it like it really happened.

I'll try never to be this serious again on RC, I know it's completely out of 


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