Pigs Are Flying, And Lily Is Quoting A Country Music Song

I'm not saying that I'm old.

Definitely not.

But at 28, I WILL say that I am most certainly older than I used to be, and I think we can all agree that one's ten-year highschool reunion, once is upon them, brings with it a certain note of sobriety and the realization that no, those jeans that you've been saving since college are just not going to fit, honey, so let's just go ahead and donate them to goodwill before they go completely out of style, shall we?

In the words of Pepe Le Peu,

"Le sigh."

I fell off a horse the other day.

At first glance, this doesn't appear to be that alarming. Anybody who rides as often as I do is eventually going to fall. And CERTAINLY anyone who rides the crazy, fearful, "holy-shit-that-car-is-going-to-EAT-ME" kind of horses as often as I do is just asking to be dumped.

Its just that...I...don't fall.

It's kinda my schtick.

You see, it took me 4 years of weekly lessons to take my first dive - heroically - into a thicket of wisteria bushes after my out-of-control mount chose to take the road less traveled while out on a trail ride.

Oh, there were other falls.

Some were epic - like the time I got clothes-lined while out on a fox hunt with yet another out-of-control horse and they had to call an ambulance (Can you imagine that converastion?!? 911 dispatcher: where are you located?; Concerned fellow rider: Uhhh....the woods.)

Many were less dramatic - resulting in no more than a dirt smudge, a baffled horse, and a slightly bruised ego.

But regardless, I can say with all confidence that during my 21 years in the saddle, I have fallen significantly fewer times than my comrades, while riding significantly wilder horses. Because the people who don't fall?
They ride the crazies.

So yeah...I fell yesterday.

And here's the deal...I was riding a horse considered by all accounts to be very, very safe.
I've ridden him pretty regularly since December of '09. He's a fantastic horse - good natured, hard working, and again, I can't stress this enough, very, very safe.

So we went to take a jump, as we've done many times before.
But yesterday? He wasn't feeling it.

So he went left, and I kind of tipped forward because, okay, my heels weren't down but again, he's the SAFE, HARD-WORKING, HONEST horse that you don't really need to keep your heels down with because he ALWAYS takes the jump...

...except for yesterday.

So he goes left and I tip forward and...
Here's the weird part:

I could have stayed on.
I swear to god, I could have used all my strength to pull myself back in the saddle, swing that horse around, and make him jump that jump like it was going out of style.

But instead? I kind of looked at the ground - which was so close anyway on account of my head being down around his shoulder - and I just kind of ...went limp.

Went limp as in, I honestly couldn't be bothered to keep myself in the saddle.

This is the same girl who once, when she was riding and her horse slid and fell on its side, was STILL IN THE SADDLE when it struggled to its feet because she refused to fall off.

This is the same girl who took two final jumps of a jump course with her saddle SLIDING OFF THE SIDE OF THE HORSE because she refused to fall off (especially when she was wining the competition).

This girl...
THIS GIRL...
As of yesterday, chose to fall rather than break a sweat trying to stay in the saddle after her very, very safe horse skipped out to the left of a jump no taller than her knees.

Even the horse, after coming to a stop, turned around and looked at me like, "Really, Lily? REALLY?"

I think he was embarassed for me.

And that, my friends, is how I know that...while I'm not OLD...I am most CERTAINLY older than I used to be.

It's kind of like that Toby Keith song...
"I ain't as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was"

Except that doesn't really make sense.

But you know what he's trying to say:
Shit only gets suckier after you hit 22-ish.

Amen, Toby Keith, with your rugged goatee and appropriately battered cowboy hat...Amen.

Consequently, I wrenched my neck while falling.
But it didn't hurt at the time...or later that night...or the next morning.
No.
It hurt exactly 27 hours after the initial impact.

Again...Not old

....just....

Older.

Le sigh.