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Cathryn at That Red Mare posted this blog hop yesterday and it immediately grabbed my attention. Who doesn’t love a good transformation? Honestly though, I don’t think Henry is your typical super impressive “before and after”. He came to me in good health (albeit FAT and with no muscle from having sat in a pasture for over a year) and he’d already jumped a little bit, so his early education went by pretty quickly. His is not a particularly radical transformation, but it’s still kind of fun to look back.

This was Henry on Day 1 when he arrived in Texas in December 2013. So fat that his butt jiggled when he walked. He’s always been cute though – the long mane and shaggy coat couldn’t hide that.

He’s a bit more fit these days… looks more like a event horse than a pasture puff. I think he went from cute to handsome.

This is one of our very first jumps, also December 2013. He was a little bit more green and careful in those days, but his style has always been good.

Now he just jumps much bigger things.

Ah, but what about the DERP? Well, absolutely nothing has changed in that regard. On Day 1 he was 100% derp…

and almost 3 years later – still derping so hard.

I started with a pretty nice horse. Now I just have a more fit, more educated one.

Maybe Sadie is a a little bit more fun as a before and after, since… ya know… going from a baby to an adult is a lot more drastic?

Sadie at 2 weeks, when she was still cute and tiny.

Sadie at 2 years, still looking a little gangly. (Yes, I’m skipping over the yearling part. No one wants to re-live that, especially not me.)

Sadie at 3 years, at her first little schooling show.

Her first show over fences, at 4 years. Cantering over the Baby Green jumps like NBD, because teeny things have always been a joke to her.

At 5, when she decided she’d rather be a jumper and the sticks got bigger.

And then last year, finally mature at age 8, and with her first baby.

Still hard to believe that my tiny little fuzzball is now a giant mare!

Massage, chiropractic, aquatred, cold saltwater spa… Henry is no stranger to complementary therapies. Yet one thing he hasn’t tried, and in fact I’ve never tried on any of my horses, is acupuncture. No particular reason, really, I’ve just never had access to it or any personal experience with it.

My vet is a skeptic of “woo-woo” (his words) type things in general. Chiropractic, laser therapy, all that stuff tends to get an eyeroll from him. I appreciate the skepticism in a lot of ways, but I’ve seen enough “woo-woo” things work really well that I tend to be pretty open-minded about trying stuff. I’m all about finding ways to make the pony more comfortable.

I’ve read a lot about acupuncture, all the different types, and what it can supposedly help with. Take a spin around a few different horse forums and you’ll find opinions ranging from “total hogwash” to “miracle cure”. As with all things, I’m sure the truth lies somewhere in between and depends a lot on the particular horse and practitioner.

A couple years ago we had a vet move into our area that specializes in acupuncture and chiropractic. I put her on my radar as one to watch and see how she fared, and thus far it seems like she’s been pretty successful with it. I know a few people that have used her and seen good results.  I was thinking that maybe it’s time to make a chiropractic appointment for Henry anyway (I’m sure he’s probably a bit out of whack from the stall rest/gimping that has happened lately) so on a whim I emailed this vet for her rates.

It isn’t cheap for chiro plus acupuncture from a vet, but I’m thinking about trying it anyway. My curiosity is starting to get the best of me.

Has anyone else used acupuncture, either on yourself or your horse? If so – opinions? If not – would you, or wouldn’t you?

Remember how I freaked out there for a minute after Henry went to rehab and agreed to run a half marathon? Yeah… that happened.

It’s still two months away, and it’s probably a good thing that I entered it because otherwise I doubt I’d still be running much. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely needed the exercise. I’m stronger than I was before, and I’ve lost a little bit of weight (kind of. if you squint.). I’ve always had a huge mental block with running; I just don’t like it. Even when I was heavy duty into triathlons the running part was still like torture. Swimming, awesome. Cycling, even better. Running? Just effin’ kill me. So this time around I’ve tried a different approach – keeping it casual.

First: the schedule. I’ve been sticking mostly to a 3x per week schedule, trying to avoid running two days in a row. I need that day off in between so that it doesn’t start feeling like a job, and it helps keep my compartment syndrome in check. Sometimes I run 4 days a week, if I had to cut one short because of time or something, but 3 has been pretty standard. I do two weekday morning runs that are 3 miles (aka 2 cupcakes), and then I do a long run on a weekend morning. Right now the long run is at 6 miles (aka 5 cupcakes).

The second vital part: I don’t track my pace… I have a few set routes that I know the distance of (a couple different 3 mile loops, and a 6 mile loop), but I don’t turn on runkeeper or mapmyrun to track it. I just can’t. I’m so overly competitive (yes, even with myself) that I have the most amazing ability to take the fun out of literally everything. And there’s already basically no fun to be had in running. I know how long each run is taking me anyway, total minutes-wise, so it’s not rocket science to have a decent idea of what my pace is. I’m not worrying about negative splits or heartrate or any of that other overly analytical crap though… I just run however the hell I feel like running in the moment. It’s liberating.

And the last, but equally vital piece: I run alone, in private. I’m up early so that I can run in the dark, before dawn, just me and our big black dog. I don’t want people looking at me, I don’t want to be forced to make eye contact and say good morning to anyone, I don’t want to talk to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t want to run with anyone. Leave me alone to suffer in peace with Twenty One Pilots and Bastille, please. I need to pretend like I still have some damn dignity.

I burned myself out on all this stuff when I was doing triathlons, making myself crazy with my obsession with the numbers. Always trying to be faster and faster and faster. At the end of the day though, running isn’t my number one thing, I’m not that good at it, and I don’t particularly care that much. My new approach is a little bit unconventional but it seems to be working so far, since I’ve actually managed to keep up with it and don’t hate it yet.

I do think that it’s helped my riding though, especially while Henry has been recuperating. I’m still strong and reasonably fit, which has definitely helped. Will I actually keep running after the half is over? Who knows… we’ll see what happens in the next couple months…

Herrlerr!!!! Well… and Bobby too, I guess.

It rained a lot last week but the field at my barn dries exceptionally fast. The soil is a bit sandier than most areas around here, which seems to make all the difference. Because of all the rain, Halo hasn’t gotten to gallop for a while (he has this gross thing where he has to be able to clear his nose out really well all the time or he starts to reek of rotten food. Tie back surgery issues. Long story.) and Bobby said he was starting to get really stinky, so after clearing it with the barn owner I invited him over to ride. Henry can’t gallop yet, but he can supervise.

We trotted a few laps with Halo (Henry can’t keep up with him, even trotting), cantered a slow lap, and then hung back and watched him fly around the field. The footing really was perfect – just soft enough to be springy, but not so soft as to make any divots. Halo seemed thrilled. I’m not willing to say that I missed Bobby (gross… although I know for sure he’s missed me) but it was fun to have someone to ride with again. Henry and Halo slipped right back into their “wise older brother vs annoying younger brother” roles without missing a beat.

On Sunday I went out in the arena and set up two tiny jumps… some barrels, and a 2’6″ vertical with placing poles. Not much, but our first fences for like two months! I cantered him over both of them a few times (he basically started cantering in place when he realized we were jumping) and called it quits. At this point I live day by day with my fingers crossed, hoping that he stays sound.

Today he gets to go into his own normal sized paddock for the first time. The turnouts are totally dry now, and he’s been well-behaved in his round pen turnout, so everything is as ready as it’ll ever be. Hopefully he can keep his brain glued in and continue to behave himself.

But, you know… this IS Henny we’re talking about, so we’ll see. Please stay out of trouble, horse.

One of the first things I noticed about the new barn is that several horses have wooden stall signs hanging on their stalls. I’ve always liked the wooden signs that are handmade or handpainted… it might not look as uniform or professional as a traditional engraved plate, but there’s something very personal, genuine, and loving about them. It’s easy to buy something, anyone can do that… it’s a lot harder put your heart and soul and time into something that you’ve made with your own two hands. Maybe it’s because my mom used to paint a lot when I was a kid, and was always crafting, so stuff like that reminds me of her in a way and holds a lot of sentimental value.

I painted my first stall sign a decade ago. I was trying to come up with Christmas present ideas for all my barn friends but of course, as a 20-something horse owner, I was low on cash. I went to Hobby Lobby, bought some wooden plaques, a couple different paint colors, and spent the next few days handpainting those things in our barn colors. It was a labor of love for sure, because I soon found out that I was not a naturally gifted painter. After much cursing and even more trial and error, I was finally done.

While I was happy with the results, I swore up and down that I would never make another stall sign unless it was a) for myself, b) for a horse that I had no intention of ever selling. I’ve owned a lot of horses since then, and I’ve stuck to that. The only horse that has ever had a “fancy”, handpainted-by-me-with-love stall sign is Sadie.

So when I walked into the new barn and found myself smiling a little at all those signs, obviously handmade by people who loved the horse inside that stall, I started thinking about Henry. I had a lot of time to ponder our relationship while he was away at rehab… he was never meant to be a keeper. He was a project, a flip, something to keep me busy. Yet we all know that he’s a lot more than that by now.

I was talking to a friend a couple days later about his rehab process… how it’s gone so far, and what we still have left to do. I explained how I was taking the longest, most conservative route that the vet laid out for me, and what that entails. If it means we miss horse shows and clinics and all sorts of other fun things, so be it. This horse owes me nothing. He’s been giving me 110% of himself since day 1, and it’s my job to do right by him. And there it was, with those words: my lightbulb moment.

I went the very next day and bought a wooden plaque, some paint, and new paintbrushes. Last night I spent two hours (I told you I’m not very good at this) painting his stall sign. It’s certainly not perfect, but it’s very “us”. Other people might look at it and think it’s silly, or childish, and that’s okay. But I hope at least a few people are able to see what it means to me: the sign of a horse that is truly loved, truly special, and isn’t going anywhere for a long, long time.