AKA, "photo dump".

My knees are much better, guys.  I was a lazy-ass and I haven't had a leg workout in nearly two weeks.  I hobbled around a lot and the pain varied from excruciating to a mild throb.  Once walking felt okay, I decided Archie and I were ready for a "real" workout.  After all the rain.

(I get all the chestnuts confused.)

"What is this madness?"

"I'm trapped."

"I'm resigned to my imminent demise."

Step nine:  release the rein once you realize that your ponykins is a goob.

"I don't believe you.  I'm still trapped.  I can feel it."

"Mooooommmmm."

"Okay, maybe you aren't full of shit about this capture thing."

Step ten:  take close ups of his dirty legs, because prissy-pants never plays in the mud.  Promise him that you'll clean him up ASAP.

Hubs and I were lifting together the other Sunday, like we do almost every Sunday, and I was inspired.  Or goaded.  Anyways, I asked him to give me a spot on the squat rack because I was attempting to increase my previous one-rep max.  He looked at me, looked at the 235 pounds, looked at me, and we both loaded more weight on.

And this is how I kinda-sorta-almost squatted 275 pounds.

#halfsquat #275 #onerepfailure #maxedout #cantgetlow #womenwholift #fitwomen

A video posted by Beka Burke (@fitthirty) on Nov 11, 2014 at 11:46am PST

Where did this leave me?

Making a decision about riding because I really, really fucked up my knees.

Our ponykins stumble and we bute them and give them a week off, while watching doggedly for any little gait indiscretion.  But I cannot count the number of stories I've heard about riders ignoring their own injuries and mounting up, only to perform half-assedly or in pain.

As I hobbled around this week, I thought about a lecture I sat through at the University of Georgia.  Total fail on my end, because I only typed up a couple of the sessions.  Anyways, one of the questions was:  which comes first, the lameness or the lesion?  The thought being that if one perpetuates a faulty gait, they cause injuries which continue the need for the faulty gait.  Sorta... walk long enough with a swagger and you'll always have that swagger.

The moral of this story is:  why get on your horse when you aren't fully functional?  When you're injured and you ask your body to perform, it compensates in other ways.  When I rode with a broken butt bone, I rode crooked.  Guess what... I still ride crooked.  I don't want to take my injuries out on my horse by pinching my hips because my knees won't rotate comfortably or sack-of-potatoing his back because it hurts too much to hold myself up.

Just a thought.

So I took a few days off of "aggressive" riding and farted around.  Rode bareback.  Walked a lot.  And then it rained for three days straight.  :(

You know, just packing up my desk.  Cleaning long-nurtured dust bunnies into nonexistence.  Eating the best brownies, ever, considerately made with black beans because vegetarianism versus veganism is hard and better to err on the side of caution.  For reals, I'm gonna get the recipe for these suckers.  Mine probably won't turn out as well because they won't be made with get the fuck out ...er... love.

My last day at my job! I have some of the best coworkers. #blackbeanbrownies #vegan #goingawaygift #newjob #coworker

A photo posted by bekaburke (@bekaburke) on Nov 11, 2014 at 5:11am PST

Between shredding documents that I should have never kept and filing things that wanted to be filed two years ago and deleting randomness, I found this.  And this is also the best.

Road ID (affiliate link)

I've never hidden the fact that I love technology.  Some of y'all want bridles or something.  I want data.  ...And breeches.  ...And tattoos.  I lust after cutting-edge everything.  I might not buy it (immediately), because I'm also a junior-economist and understand the laws of supply and demand, but I want to understand what it does, how it works, what the reaches of the technology are, and how it's going to impact life.  To some degree, I thought everyone was pretty much on an even keel with technology (except kids.. kids are inherently better at technology.  fuckers).  I mean, shit, we customized our blogs.  Some of you wizards even play with Wordpress.

Somewhere along the way, maybe after my last job fired the marketing department and my autodidacticism shined as I learned Photoshop to fill the gaps, or maybe when I was asked to be team lead on a software development project, I realized that maybe not everyone was as adept with technology.  I'm not saying I'm special - I'm just saying I like it.

A couple of weeks ago, I interviewed for an entry-level technology job.

I start Monday.

So let's bring this back to ponies.

I use Cyclemeter to track my rides (and walks and cycles and dog hikes, etc.).  I've talked about this app a lot.  Even though it costs money, I prefer it over similar apps because I think the algorithms are spot-on (okay - occasionally, I am not doing 55 mph on the road next to the barn, I'll give you that), I like my Irish dude, I love the UX, it talks to MyFitnessPal and facebook, and it syncs to my calendar to update what I've done.


In my perpetual plight to step away from facebook, I didn't want to lose the accountability feature that posting to facebook from Cyclemeter offers.  For reals, my poor friends see every ride.  Maybe y'all just glance by it, but I think about that every time I ride.  PEOPLE MIGHT SEE THIS.  It's not a huge motivational factor, because I can't get beyond not giving shits, but it's there.  I like it.

So I decided to change the calendar function, sync to a different calendar, and slap that bitch on my side bar.  Data.  I loves it.

Eyes closed.

Yes, I took off my iPhone before entering the ring.

I kinda dig the popped collar look.

I like this one because my boobs and arm position hide my chub.

Wuuuuh?

As you can tell, I entered the ring with absolutely no contact.  Dude is a fucking champ because his mom does not always fire on all cylinders.

Free walk after X.

God, he's a handsome pony.

Trot circle.

Trot diagonal. Camera whore.

Second trot circle, where Mr. Prancy Pants tried to canter no less than four times. FOUR. Check out that butt, though.

Free walk.

Resting bitch face. I ate lemons.

Gorgeous pony.

The test:

Congratulations to Madeline C. at Tear Drop Winken!  From stalking your IG (love me some vet techs), it sounds like you could totally use some Heal Quick from a certain canine's face meeting your arm.

For those that didn't win, please remember that Helen has graciously offered 20% off until December 15th using the code OWLS20.  Thank you again for sponsoring this!

And for verification purposes:

I set up a course last night in the ring.  I haven't jumped in the ring since C moved to the barn in.. September because it's so much easier for us to just leave a few jumps peppered in the grass around the ring.  They aren't in anyone's way, so we don't have to take them down.

I set up a single vertical, a one-stride line, a two-stride line, and a nasty three-stride bending line.  The contortion for the bending line was such that I could easily jump either jump without anything being in my way.  So, after warming up my fire-breathing dragon, I pointed him at the little cross rail.  He locked on, ears pricked, over jumped it and its shadow, and proceeded to buck for half the turn.  I chalked this up to his fall friskies, the adventure of jumping in sand, and my guy being an occasional asshole.

And then he proceeded to buck after every jump.

 I took him back to the barn, asked if anyone had witnessed his antics (spooking at a leaf, scooting when someone let a buckle hit the metal siding, trying to get the monkey off his back).  Unfortunately, no one had.  What bits of pride I had from being able to stay in the saddle were almost outweighed by the fact that, you know, my horse was bucking.  A lot.  I don't care what you say, that shit's scary.

I changed out the memory foam half-pad and the regular saddle pad for his Back on Track Contender II.  Mounted, and with an audience this time, took him over a little cavaletti before jumping everything in the ring without the slightest problem.  Jerk.

He's told me before when he didn't like the way things felt.  I guess we'll be riding in the Contender for a while.  Depending on how his back feels tonight, he may just be handwalked (to loosen muscles) and possibly buted and linimented.  I did give him a pretty hard massage on Sunday because he is using and building more topline since we met with Koby.  Even if it makes things feel better in the long run, that shit still hurts in the short-term.  (Ask me how I know... D had to give me a butt massage because I did squats one day and weighted Romanian lunges the next.)

Just a reminder:  if you haven't already, go enter my contest with the Herbal Horse!

Here's to a certain 17 year old bay Thoroughbred gelding, who got a cool breeze up his butt today.