Cob Jockey

With all the talk about emotions affecting our riding lately, I got to thinking about how nice it is to have both a hobby that encourages the use and release of those tough feelings:

CrossFit Games Open Qualifier, Workout 13.1

And one that is sensitive to those feelings and doesn't like them:

"Hi guys!"

I left work today angry at a power-hungry user who questioned my authority on a simple thing, and copied my boss and his boss in his response, and the response itself made it seem as if I were a child needing to be reminded of my place.  I was in the right and both bosses backed me, but I was seething as I went to my CrossFit class - as a young woman in a man's field, nothing burns me more than not getting the respect I have earned from my own users.  I took it out on the rower, turning a 500m row into a PR, then on the barbell, setting a PR on the overhead squat, then on my workout, called "Annie", setting a massive PR over my time from 15 months ago.  In this case, my anger turned productive - barbells and rowers don't care whether you look like you want to rip them apart with your bare hands.

But if I had instead headed to the barn, my anger would have been counterproductive.  I can usually leave it at the barn door, but with death and other extreme emotions, you just can't do it.  Even if you're not consciously thinking about it, it's affecting your mind, the way your body moves, and your horse, both on the ground and in the saddle.  Grooming him might have improved my mood, but he also might have mistaken my tension for wariness and mirrored my mood, seeing lions around every corner and being feisty, causing me to lose it like I did when I rode him after Daniel died.

In summary, at least with Connor and I, he can't always be my emotional outlet.  Just like my dogs, he relies on me being emotionally even with consistent and predictable actions.  I can't explain to him that there aren't any lions, it's just that my friend died, I'll be fine and so will you.  He lives in the moment and can't rationalize.  While I know he will be there for me if I need a fuzzy pony neck to throw my arms around and sob, I also know that there are certain emotions, like anger, that don't belong around him, and I am beginning to learn my horse limits in grief.

I guess that's growing up.