Henry and I took a step out of our comfort zone this past weekend! Okay it wasn’t really that far out of the comfort zone, maybe just like a foot or an arm or something. We tried something new though… on Saturday we had our first go at a Prelim combined test.

Granted, I don’t think it totally counts since a couple jumps were under height and there were 7 fences with no combinations. That’s like… partial credit? But it was our first time trying to ride a Prelim dressage test, for sure. Which, since I didn’t decide to enter until the last minute and then I wavered on what to enter until Trainer put in her vote for Prelim CT, I did not actually learn or ride through the test until the day before. And by “ride through” I mean guessing at geometry and arena size in my big giant hay field.

I am bad at this.

I love this little venue because it’s SUPER relaxed, but the warmup is not the greatest. It’s small and on a hillside and the footing is iffy. They do have a covered arena on the other end of the property, which I tried to utilize, but Henry’s brain absolutely fell out along the way when we had to pass within close proximity of a cow in a neighboring field and then he just COULD NOT after that. Back to the tiny hillside we went, where I spent the next 10 minutes trying to stuff his brain back in, but the tension stayed. You never know when that cow might try to sneak up on him again. Sneaky devils cannot be trusted.

I opted to ride the first part of the test, with all the 10m circles and turns and halt in the middle, in a pretty collected sitting trot. I wanted to try to keep him “with me” mentally, so we sacrificed the true working gait there. Sometimes when he’s tense he gets his feet moving so fast that his brain can’t keep up, and then he’s just a hot mess express that comes totally off the rails. Slower is better for thinking, and keeping him thinking in the sandbox has always been a problem. We did the circles and the turn and the halt just fine though, so I was okay with taking the dinged marks for a too-small trot for those movements. The leg yields were ok, not as good as we’re capable of. Stretchy trot fine, walk work fine, lengthening too conservative but again I was trying to keep him with me more than go for scores, since he was still a ball of tension.

For once in his life he DID NOT try to jig in the return to medium walk so I’ll take that. The trot to canter transitions and turns up centerline were our best scores, which I found hysterical. His medium canter was legit nonexistent but I was not going to push the issue and risk unleashing the dragon at that point. The 10m half circles in the canter rode a lot better than I thought they might, although my biggest issue with these is that he REALLY thinks we should be doing a flying change when we get back to the rail. It takes a lot of convincing to keep him from swapping. I did manage to keep him in the correct lead for both of them, but it was a bit… bouncy.

Also I uh… halted way too early at the end. I didn’t think his whoa was gonna work that well after the canter so I asked early and was shocked when he immediately came to a halt. Like… way before G. Whoops. The judge did not like that one bit. Guess I should have had more faith in all the work we’ve been doing with the halts.

Overall it was an underwhelming (and tense) but steady and obedient test. He did what I asked, when I asked, and he kept his brain together, it was just all mediocre. I was totally fine with that. The judge gave us a 39… she has never given us better than a 36, so I am not surprised. She’s always on the higher side of even my recognized show scores.

For a first attempt at a harder test, though, I wasn’t at all unhappy with him. Next time I think I can ride it a little more boldly, and I know what to go home and try to improve. There were a lot of places where I knowingly sacrificed points and I think it would be easy to get them back. Also will try to avoid close encounters with cows during warmup, because Jesus H Henny.

After dressage I jumped off, switched my tack, and walked over to the arena to look at the stadium course. It was short and very basic, and the one bending line walked at kind of a 3/4 distance. As I was putting my bridle on I realized that I had forgotten to switch from his “home” bit, a copper french link loose ring, to his “show” bit, a full cheek Dr. Bristol. I didn’t really think it would matter for stadium, though. Ha. Hahahaha.

I got on, cantered a few laps of the hillside field, jumped the lone warmup fence a couple of times, and then went up to the ring. As soon as I picked up the canter and came around the turn to fence 1, I instantly regretted not having that Dr Bristol. I went to rebalance and he said LOL U IZ HILARIOUS BYEEE. Heavy in my hand + running past the distance = rail at fence 1. Are you joking right now, Henry? The whole course was a bit of a power struggle, basically. I was able to get him rocked back for most of the fences, but both of the ones where he blew me off and got heavy in front, we ticked the rail with a front foot.

I asked if we could stay in and do an additional round for schooling, which they happily let us do, and by the 2nd trip he had lost enough of his cockiness to where he decided maybe he should listen when I half halt. That round we were clear, and he was actually getting to the base nicely and really powering off the ground. He felt great. Of course… the 2nd round… the one that doesn’t count. Note to self: always bring Dr Bristol and avoid that whole power struggle in the beginning. Clearly these fences are not big enough to back him off at all.

So it wasn’t a perfect outing, but it was a good first run at testing the waters with some bigger/harder stuff. There were no disasters, and I learned a lot about what we can do better for next time.

And after all, that’s the point of schooling shows. The best part is, NO ONE DIED! For a first “move up” type of experience, I’ll take that as success.

Serious question though – why do eventers say it like DRESS-ahge but dressage people say it like dressAAAAhhgge? Things that keep me up at night…

But for real though, Henry and I have been back in a regular dressage lesson schedule for 4 months now. Yeah ok, we only do a lesson every other week, so that’s only 8 lessons, but there has been a lot of progress in that time. Granted, I never have media of it because Dressage Trainer is also holding his microphone and trying to coach me at the same time. And as of late he’s been layered under blankets because Texas has decided it’s a winter state now. Seems cruel to ask him to video. Someday I will wrangle someone into taking a few clips, but that day has not come yet.

In October we started working more on haunches-in, which built up into renvers and half pass. We go home and work on the same exercises and combination of exercises that we do in lessons, and Henry has very quickly gotten quite good at some of this more complicated lateral work. Especially half pass.

For some reason he’s a bit of a savant about this particular movement. It’s gotten easier and easier, and better and better, on a very steadily upward trajectory that is uncommon for horses in general and this horse in particular. The half pass work at both the trot and canter on Wednesday got several “excellent”s from Dressage Trainer. We don’t generally get that word very much. Along with this little breakthrough, Henry’s started to get stronger in general and offer more “sit” in his canter. The connection issues that we used to have are pretty much gone and I can actually ride him UP into my hand most of the time.

Well, unless he’s tense, which definitely still happens sometimes. Once he’s tense he just locks up his back and pretty much everything goes out the window in a heartbeat. I’m not sure that’ll ever change about him, to be honest. Which is why horse shows are always a mixed bag. The work at home though, it’s gotten so much better… it’s like the more complicated we make it, the better he does.

The strangest thing that has come out of this little re-dedication to the dressage work is that we’re finally to the point where I’m starting to… dare I say… enjoy it.

Now that Henry has more buttons to play with, so to speak, our rides are a lot more complex, which makes them more fun to me. Too bad they won’t be putting half pass into these eventing Training level dressage tests anytime soon, that would really help me out. It has made me want to branch out a little and experiment with some more complicated tests, though, even if it’s just at home. The challenge is stimulating to me in a way that dressage hasn’t ever been before. Up to this point it’s kinda just been one big aggravating snoozefest. No offense.

I still can’t imagine doing only dressage, the jumping part is too fun, but I’m starting to get a little more into it now. Lessons are something I look forward to instead of something that feels like an obligation. I kinda feel like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole of dressage.

We’re signed up to try Prelim A at a small schooling show this weekend, mostly just for funsies. I haven’t actually ridden the whole test all the way through yet, and I won’t get a chance to try it in an arena before we get there so it might be shit, but that’s ok. We’re just playing around really, and taking the opportunity to get in the sandbox.

Now if only we could start getting some of this “at home” Henry to show up in the ring, we’d actually be cooking.

Fire. That’s what chronic exertional compartment syndrome feels like. The fire eventually leads to strange kind of numbness where you can’t decide if your legs are actually about to fall off or if you just really want them to.

CECS, in a nutshell, as defined by the Mayo Clinic:

When you exercise, increased blood flow to working muscles expands them. If the connective tissue (fascia) that binds the muscle fibers in a compartment doesn’t also expand, pressure builds up in the compartment. Over time, the pressure cuts off some of the muscle’s blood supply.

So basically, the fascia ends up strangling the muscle itself. Hence a lot of burning, which eventually leads to numbness when the blood supply has finally been cut off completely. Sometimes you also get cramps and your legs can swell up. All very fun things.

Luckily CECS it isn’t something that follows you around 24/7. Honestly, I never even knew I had it until I started running a lot. I’d always had issues with riding in regular fillis stirrup irons, especially if my stirrups were short, but I brushed it off as some kind of flexibility issue. I would only get about 10 minutes into a ride before my lower legs and ankles were absolutely burning. The arrival of wide footbed irons was a major godsend for me and helped alleviate a lot of the pain. They’re an absolute necessity for me now.

What really brought this condition to light for me was several years ago when I was doing a lot of triathlons. It got so bad that I was to the point of being in pain pretty much all the time, so I finally went to a doctor. The first one had no clue, thought it was maybe shin splints or a blood clot, ordered an MRI which revealed nothing, and then finally sent me to a specialist. Within just a few minutes of talking to me he knew exactly what it was.

 

For riding by itself, CECS isn’t so bad. I feel it most when I’m jumping, or especially on cross country. A short stirrup combined with a lot of two point and weight in my heels will have my feet numb within about 5 minutes, with a whole lot of burning going on during that time. This is part of why you’ll often see my feet in more of a “home” position in the stirrups on XC. It helps alleviate some of the pain.

 

The bigger issue is running, especially if I’m running a lot when I’m also riding a lot. The two activities combined seem to be a little bit too much for my legs to take. Hot weather makes it even worse, and of course both of the half marathons I’ve done have been pretty excruciating. For my second one it happened to be almost 70 degrees that day and the entire last few miles were done with completely numb legs that ended up feeling like pure fire for days afterward. I generally have to cut my running activity way down in hot weather, and try not to ever run on days where I’m planning on riding in the jump saddle. Sometimes I have to break the ice packs out.

There really isn’t a whole lot you can do for CECS. The doctor said we could try a custom orthotic, to see if changing my biomechanics might help. Of course, those aren’t covered under my insurance and were quoted to me at $450 a pop. I asked him how often that actually helped (maybe half the time) and how much it helped reduce the symptoms (maybe 30-50%). Not really worth it to me. They mostly suggest that you cut out whatever activities cause it to flare up. If it gets particularly bad they can do a surgery that requires cutting the fascia and results in spending several weeks unable to use both feet. That’s a no for me.

So I try to manage it just by being smart about my activities, and planning my days carefully. Runs need to happen on dressage days or non-riding days, and the hotter the weather is, the shorter the run needs to be. For riding I tend to keep my stirrups a hole longer in my jump saddle until I’m actually jumping, and I do stick my feet further in the stirrups for long conditioning rides. I will probably always require a stirrup with a wide footbed, since for whatever reason it seems to help stabilize things and make everything more bearable. I will never have a particularly deep heel position. Whenever we stop for a break I often take my feet out of the stirrups and leg my legs hang to get some bloodflow back. Otherwise I just do what equestrians everywhere do all the time about all kinds of things… I just suck it up.

This past weekend as I was sitting in my nice comfy chair, sipping on my vitamin water, jump judging at a horse trial, my friend Michelle (Presto’s “other” mother, and owner of Willow Tree Warmbloods) was attending her very first breeder’s course.

In these courses you learn to do some of the vet work yourself, to avoid having to haul mares and foals to the vet a lot, reduce some of the cost, and make everyone’s life a little less stressful in general. When you’re breeding several mares a year, many of which have foals at their side, and the closest vet is an hour haul away, the simple act of going for an ultrasound becomes an ordeal and introduces some unnecessary risk. Hence why a lot of breeders choose to buy some of their own equipment and do the basic stuff themselves. A lot of it isn’t rocket science.

So there’s Michelle, arm-deep in a mare, taking her first shot at an artificial insemination. That’s a normal thing for your average wife and mother to be doing on a Sunday afternoon, right? Her friend had even come along with her to the course, so she can help assist Michelle with her mares during breeding season. As Michelle was completing her first go at AI, she simultaneously learned what can happen when the mare has a full bladder.

https://www.facebook.com/michelle.beck.77/videos/10156010271589496/

The best part of this, once I was able to stop crying from laughing so hard, were the reactions when she posted this on her facebook page. All the breeders and horse people were like “Oh yeah, that’s happened to me too – warning, don’t wear boots unless you can seal the top!” wheras all the non-horse people were somewhere between squeamish and vomiting. The guys more so than the women, of course. It really highlighted just how much gross stuff we, the species known as Horse People, become completely accustomed to over time.

I showed the video to the SO and he was part laughing and part looking like he might throw up. That of course just made me laugh even harder. Then I had to make a meme for Michelle because that’s the kind of friend I am.

We horse people definitely do a lot of gross stuff. I’ve been shot in the face with puss, hit in the head with poop, touched so much pee that it doesn’t even register anymore, had smegma in places no one ever should, been elbow deep in a mare to reposition a foal, covered in snot from head to toe on a fairly regular basis, and laid out and inspected a lot of placentas. Not even deterred. In fact, I took way more pictures of that one infected placenta than could ever be considered normal. Because fascinating. But bring in a human with a cut and I am OUT. Or human babies and poop. Gross. Nasty. Ew.

There’s so much we do every day and don’t even blink at anymore, yet normal people would find revolting. Like the time SO went running to the bathroom to wash his hands because Henry left a lot of slobber behind in the process of eating a peppermint.

We’re weird people, that’s for sure, but there aren’t too many badass chicks out there who can say they know how to AI a mare. You might be covered in piss, Michelle, but high five to you girl. Horse People are my favorite. Oh and extra special thanks to your friend for getting it on video, since I’ve watched it more times now than I care to admit. That is pure entertainment right there.

I realized last week, as I was tearing my trunk apart looking for furacin to sweat a leg, that I had completely lost control of my horse medical supplies.

I used to have everything relegated to a small rubbermaid, but at some point I outgrew that and then just stopped putting things back after I used them, so all my supplies ended up separated, spread out, and lost. I couldn’t even find my damn thermometer last time I need it, and ended up having to scrounge through the barn’s med cabinet. That’s the ultimate in pathetic.

So I’ve started pulling everything back together, taking inventory of what I still have, and jotting down things that I know are missing or have been depleted. I figured I’d wait and buy a container for all this stuff after I’m done assembling it, so I know what size I need. But so far I’ve been pulling all kinds of stuff out of the far reaches of my trunk… dmso, furazone, corona, ace, banamine, bute, dex, animalintex, vet wrap galore, etc. So disorganized.

I’m still figuring out what all I’m missing though, and keep paging through Riding Warehouse veterinary/health care section to try to fill in some of the gaps. They do offer a handy-dandy first aid kit that’s already put together and packed with lots of the most crucial stuff… there’s a basic one and a vamped up trailering one. Pretty tempted to get one of those as well, to keep with my small “trailer trunk”, because I’m nothing if not paranoid, and that seems much easier than schlepping the entire med kit around when we’re hauling.

But I also need to complete my full med kid for the barn, and I’ve got a good portion of what I need already.

• DMSO
• Bute
• Banamine
• Dex
• animalintex
• vetwrap x 8 (apparently I’m good at buying that)
• clear eyes
• eye ointment
• corona
• swat
• hoof boot
• poultice
• hoof pack
• saran wrap
• brown paper
• scissors
• duct tape
• elastikon
• cool cast
• durasole
• hoof testers
• rasp
• the world’s nerdiest but best ice boots (these are a floater item since I always take them to shows, and they’re a bit big to fit in a reasonably sized container)
• wraps and bandages (also a floater for same reason)
• liniment
• alushield
• omeprazole paste
• safety pins
• rags
• syringes – 10cc and 60cc
• needles
• dosing syringe
• rubbing alcohol
• witch hazel

But most notably missing (so far) are:

• Betadine (I swear a lose a bottle every year)
• new thermometer
• stethoscope
• bandage scissors
• more furacin, I’m almost out
• more latex gloves, I have 2 left
• thrush stuff
• hoof nippers
• twitch
• gauze
• Epsom salt
• diapers
• head lamp

How I lost my thermometer, stethoscope, and twitch somewhere over the past few years is a mystery, but they are definitely MIA. There’s probably more, too, but I can’t think of it off the top of my head right now.

So, what do you guys have in your med kit? Do you keep a separate first aid kit in your trailering supplies?