Written & Illustrated by Melanie Eberhardt

I fell off my horse. I hurt. Worse than the pain – I won’t be riding anytime soon. My doctor made me pinky swear to stay off horses for 6-8 weeks, then for good measure, wait 4 more weeks.  So… I find myself with a lot of free time.

I’m making good use of it! I am getting really good at killing zombies on my phone. I have mastered the art of cooking paper-thin crepes (yummy with fresh strawberries). I clean every dish immediately after use, much to the dismay of my bad cats who troll the sink to lick scraps off the plates. I’ve watched all my DVD’s from A to Z, then Z to A. I heaped all my socks on the bed and matched pairs. Oddly, I still have half a heap of singles, but that’s a problem for another day. I’ve thrown my dog’s tennis ball a million times – he never gets tired of it. You get the idea, I have plenty of time to take care of mundane things and to think. I spend an inordinate amount of time on a particular topic, the one that has most affected my routine – that fall off my horse.

I’ve replayed my fall over and over. Actually, I’ve replayed every fall I’ve ever taken off a horse, repeatedly trying to identify a common cause (sadly, me). My life time of spills have helped me devise the following theories about horse falls, most specifically the after affects. To best explain them I draw parallels from every day objects.

Number 1

Object: Tennis Ball

Condition: Horse Fall

Age: Kid

I started falling off horses when I was a kid. I fell off a big bay when I started taking riding lessons. Apparently he didn’t approve of my technique – everyone’s got an opinion! Then there was the red roan mare from overnight camp who scraped me against a tree then ran off down the trail. She never even looked back.

Though the horses were much bigger back then (relatively speaking) and I had farther to fall, I never really got hurt. I hit the ground and bounced like my dog’s tennis ball. Maybe I needed a Band-Aid but most damage was confined to my young ego because of course I always fell in front of a bunch friends who laughed and laughed.

Number 2

Object: TV Remote

Condition: Another Horse Fall

Age: Adult (25 to 49)

As an adult, the horse falls continued but now I fell off my own horses. (like that makes a difference?) My first fall off my gelding was a header when he refused to jump a tiny creek. He refused UNTIL all the horses in front of us disappeared around a bend in the trail at which point he leapt that creek like someone lit a firecracker under his A##. He ran to catch up with his friends. Déjà vu, I was abandoned once again on a trail.

Like the TV remote I dropped on the floor last week, I hit the ground a little harder as an adult. I chipped a corner and my batteries fell out. But a little duct tape, a couple stitches and I was good to go.

Number 3

Object: An Egg

Condition: The Final Horse Fall (I hope)

Age: 50+

I’m now over 50 and not yet done falling off horses. My recent folly resulted from an embarrassingly, inconsequential happy buck. My horse loves ground poles and at the end of a successful trot over about seven, he gleefully gave a teeny, tiny happy buck. I shot straight up in the air about 60 feet. By the time I came back down, he had already finished his ride, untacked himself, had a carrot and gone back out in his pasture. You guessed it – my horse was not under me and I landed on wet sand. (wet sand = cement).

Falling after 50 brings a whole new perspective to pain and recovery. The act of falling is the same, but how our older bodies react is completely different. Even a small fall hurts more. Our older bodies are less resilient and slower to recover. My parallel is simple and true. I am the egg I dropped on my kitchen floor this morning. The egg that went SPLAT!