To paraphrase Mr. Churchill

There is something about the outside of a horse that's good for my inner thigh muscles.

OK, that may warrant some unsavory types finding my blog through nasty google searches but what I mean is, wow, did I need that ride.

I finally - finally! - got a ride in. It's my first ride in months and months. After many false starts, I managed a riding lesson this week. A real, live, work until your legs feel like jelly ride. The sad part is, I lasted through maybe half of hour of exercises before the jelly set in and I was useless.

But, if I may pat myself on the back, my balance was really quite good, my hands were quiet, my seat, not bad. In short, while I may be weak as a kitten, the basics are all still there just waiting to work again.

Did I mention I rode English? Insert guffaws here, but I assure you I didn't wear skin tight breeches or a pink jacket. But I did ride with my pinkies up.