Today I rode good old John T again. I was so happy. He's really a fun ride, and he's so sweet.
We did a little flatwork and then started to jump. It took me forever to get my stirrups straight, but eventually I got them evened out.
I don't know if I'll ever be good at jumping. I doubt I'll be able to do it long enough to find out, really. Today I didn't hurt myself, but I sure did suck.
My first set of jumps was okay. By okay, I mean I didn't plant my face into John T's neck or the sand. The class took the first set at a trot. I lost my stirrup after both of the jumps. I guess my heel is going up on the landing rather than over the jump. Each time I lose a stirrup, it doesn't affect me too much. I'm not jabbing the horse in the mouth when it happens. I'm not grabbing with my knees in an ignorant attempt to stay on. I'm not falling when it happens, and my position doesn't change (My leg is very happy because it gets to lengthen to where it belongs, but I digress, as usual.). It's just annoying as anything.
Things worked out better at the canter. I only lost my stirrup once, and that was OVER the jump. I think I might've thrown my weight again, but I'm not sure.
I felt really sad while we were jumping today. Teresa told me I had the option of cantering the second set. By that, she either meant "You suck, so you can trot if you want." or "I feel sorry for you and don't want you to hurt yourself because you're a gimp." I can't think of another explanation. The former hurts because... Well, I'd rather not suck. I know we all have an inherent "suckiness" when we start jumping, but I don't feel so bad that I'm behind the rest of my class. The latter hurts because I can do anything I want, regardless of my limping, pain, and whatnot. Sure, I have to limit myself sometimes, but I'd rather die than quit living. Sure, I hurt myself when I ride sometimes. Everyone hurts themselves when they ride sometimes. Riding isn't one of the most dangerous sports in the world because it's possible to break a nail. If I were more familiar with Teresa, I might be able to figure out exactly what she meant. Alas, I do not. Therefore, I'll just have to let it go.
I want to go home and see Stella. Please, weekend, come quickly.