Do I wake or sleep?

So Saturday was a full day. I had two classes in the morning in Morningside Park and then wandered through a nearby farmer's market. The first class was chock full of cuteness--5 girls and 1 boy, and the girls got very territorial about who was going to sit in Coach Clara's lap and who was going to sit next to her. They started side-eyeing each other like I KNOW you don't think you're going to sit there when I JUST left her lap. SO CUTE.

In the afternoon I crossed the bridge to Randall's Island and FINALLY got a chance to ride again! The lesson, which was in the ring, went FANTASTICALLY. They gave me a quirky little mare named Rosie who was docile enough on walk and trot but took some convincing to bump up to canter. The instructor, a Barnard student named Christina, was terrific, giving me a lot of specific instruction on how to get her to canter and finally we did it 4-5 times, yes I canteredcanteredcantered. SO AWESOME. Christina told me the first time she'd ridden Rosie she had not been able to get her to canter so that made me feel even better.

After I dismounted Anna told me that DB had said if I wanted, I could ride another horse (Magic, I've ridden him before) out of the ring, in the small patch of grass and trees near the gate. Naturally I said yes! So Magic and I had a nice little 20 minutes or so which was a lovely end to the afternoon. Afterward DB and I talked--he said if I liked I could take Magic out into the big pasture next time and work him there (much more room). And said that any time I liked I could come over and work the horses for free. FOR FREE AAAAAAUAGH Riding is so expensive, the phrase "for free" is never heard. And the honor of being asked to work the horses! It really is an honor and I am so excited.

Me on Magic

Had another Dolphman soccer game last night--exactly like last Friday, we won 3-0 and I scored another goal between the goalie's legs :) The team decided that was like--my thing now, and Seth (our goalie) labeled it CBGenius! Isn't that cute? :)

Just registered for my Sweet Briar Reunion which is coming up at the end of May. I really cannot wait for this--I had to miss the last one because of Ore so I am especially anxious for this one! I haven't seen the campus in 10 years! And very sadly, two of my former professors have died since then, including my favorite English professor. He wasn't even that old, I don't know what happened. Anyway I signed up for a riding session because NOTHING will keep me away from the Sweet Briar fucking gold standard Harriet Rogers Riding Center! I'm skipping some of the a la carte items like a luncheon and Saturday breakfast because I think they're way overpriced ($25 for breakfast? $35 for lunch? I don't think so) but you'd better believe I'm going riding. Holla holla!

So I found a stable in my neighborhood--hurrah!

The last place I rode regularly was Kensington Stables in Brooklyn, which is a few blocks away from Prospect Park and has a ring there. Kensington is okay but has a couple of disadvantages--1) It is QUITE a hike to get there. 2) I hate to sound dismissive but their facilities ain't all that. I trained at probably the best college program in the country--this is our ring:



In fact that picture doesn't give a good idea of how huge that ring is--you could easily fit THREE classes into the SBC ring, it's the size of a football field. Sweet Briar also had an enormous campus on which to hack. The Kensington ring is tiny and kind of busted-looking, and we never went on hacks even though Prospect Park would've been lovely (maybe no bridle paths there?). This would not be so bad but Kensington wasn't exactly cheap, and I didn't really feel it was worth the money. 3) As I said it wasn't exactly cheap. Kensington wasn't outrageously expensive by any means (as NYC stables go, it's fairly reasonable) but still, I could only afford 1-2 lessons per month. My instructor never seemed to remember that. She kept saying "next week, I'm going to give you [horse's name]" and I kept having to remind her "not next week, remember, I can only afford it every few weeks." Eventually you get tired of having to say out loud "yes, I am POOR, can you please stop trying to push me into another lesson I can ill-afford?!" Like, are you getting a commission or something with every lesson?

So anyway, that was my experience with Kensington. There are about 4-5 other stables in NYC and I thought I had scoped out every one of them. One in Forest Hills, one in Jamaica Bay and two in the Bronx. The one in Pelham Bay seemed like a possibility but I wasn't sure how I would get there--take the 6 to the end and then the bus, but it seemed like a long walk on top of that. Anyway a few weeks ago I had a softball tournament scheduled on Randall;s island so I Google-mapped it to see where it was. I noticed on the map there was listed a "NYC Riding Academy"--as I said I thought I knew all the stables in the city, so I checked them out. They've been around for awhile--the owner is this OLD guy who is committed to making riding affordable. This all sounded very interesting so I called them up and booked a lesson.

I showed up (BTW, I can WALK to this place! It's just across the East River so I cross the highway at 111th St. and then walk down to the footbridge to the island at 103rd St.) and the owner talked to me for awhile. He is seriously old, 83, although he looks much younger. We talked about training, what kind of riding I like, etc.--he picked out a horse for me but she was refusing the bit so I ended up with another, much more spirited mare named Scarlet. The instructor was a Brit who was quite good and understood the horse--we were most working walk-trot, although I cantered once. We worked the trot a LOT, especially working to control Scarlet who wanted to GO. Sarah (the instructor) was critical at first and then quite effusively complimentary--at one point she said "there isn't one rider in 20 who could get her to do what you're doing." I have to say, I LOVE the spunky ones! I love the challenge, the danger, the SPEED. Once you've hacked across campus with a pony who doesn't just want to canter, he wants to flat-out GALLOPand take a fence or two, a sedate little gelding just ain't the same!

When I dismounted Sarah said "you're going to be in pain tomorrow" and I said "I know, my first lesson in six years" and she squeaked "you didn't tell me THAT!" I untacked the horse and cleaned her up and then one of the stable hands told me the owner wanted to talk with me. I went over to his office trailer where Sarah was chatting with him--I sat down and he asked me how I liked my first lesson. I was of course raving--the intructor was great, the horse, everything. He talked a long time (the man does go on!) but the gist is that I shouldn't worry about the money too much. I can pay what I like (a suggested donation, essentially) and if I'm really poor, they'll work something out. He also mentioned instructing--as in, *I* could instruct which stunned me. The thing is, when you ride at a place like Sweet Briar, the varsity riders there are AMAZING, the best in the country, they routinely collect IHSA and ANRC titles. Team, Individual, they've won them all. This fostered in me--not an inferiority complex, certainly, but let's just say I had a very realistic and healthy awareness of how much I have yet to learn as a rider. But literally everywhere else that I've ridden, people have made reference to how experienced they think I must be. When I rode in Dublin, hell, all I did was MOUNT and they knew right away I knew what I was doing! (Which is not that surprising--good riding is all in the seat.) The training at SBC really is phenomenal.

So I went back last weekend and worked the horse (another one this time, a gelding named Magic) in the ring for a half hour, being instructed by the owner. Then he said I was "doing so well" that I could take Magic outside the ring, to a copse of trees on the other side of the property and work him there. OutsideoutsideOUTSIDETHE RING, yeehaw! By myself! I had a GRAND time working on my own and then after a half hour, he had me turn over Magic to one of the younger students, a 12-year old, and also instruct her. I was kind of thrown into this, but I think we actually did good work together. Magic was fine with me, I only had to use the crop the very first time, but was lazy with the girl. Not sure if he was tired or--I actually have this theory that the more you progress as a rider, the easier it gets. And not only because your skills improve, but because the horse can sense you know what you're doing and is more likely to obey your commands. At any rate Magic was fine with me but lazy with the girl, so we worked to overcome that.

The best part of the day was that after all this, Dr. Blair (the owner) told me that I could come over during the week and ride FOR FREE. You can just imagine my reaction. Also my Mom is visiting this week and brought my hardhat. (I detest wearing those plastic ones. 1) They look like bike helmets and make me feel 10 years old. 2) I want my hat decked in VELVET, dammit, I'm a Virginian!) I put it on and started humming "My Friends" from Sweeny Todd and said out loud "at last my head is COMPLETE!"

Jack that heel down low, Clara
Ease up on the reeeeeeeeins!

Hilarious post about the musical version of Gone With the Wind:

During the "fire of Atlanta" scene they brought in a live horse to pull Scarlet and Rhett across the stage to flee the "fire". There were explosions going on to give a realistic effect. The horse became so frighten that he dump a load right on the stage and it was dead center middle of the stage.

What followed was ballet of Yankee and Confederate soldiers "fighting". Now these poor dancers had to dance around this big load of shit and in fact one dance hit dead center into this merde. However those dancers ever got thru it I will never know. The follow day the horse wore diapers when he cross the stage.

I don't know how they even got through tech with live horses! Horses are notoriously skittish and very reactive. They should've used destriers (medieval war horses), if they even still breed them nowadays.

So, I am back from Dublin. Aaahhhh--one thing I love about travel is how restored and newly-energized you feel when you get back. You literally have a new perspective--this is interesting in light of the mid-to-late medieval interest in perspective, and the dawning realization that the universe does not in fact revolve around the sun. I brought the Commedia to read while en route, and it was a beautiful metaphor--far above the planet I am replicating Dante's journey both metaphorically (by going to another land) and literally, because Dante rises far above the planet in Commedia. I love it when my studies synchronize with real life, although not surprised because one of my most cherished tenets is that history is relevant, we are constantly learning the same lessons over and over. Because we're all just people underneath.

So anyway this trip did not start off auspiciously because I missed my initial flight out. Aer Lingus issued an itinerary that had my departure time in 24-hour format, which I'm not used to--I got to the airport just before 8 pm, well in advance of what I thought was a 10:40 departure but when I checked the Departures sign, saw with horror that they were boarding. I ran as fast as I could to the Aer Lingus ticket counter but they'd already packed up and left, since that was the last flight of the day. Two of their customer service reps told me to come back the next day for the first flight out--I was obviously pretty upset but they assured me I should get on. But still SO upsetting and frustrating--I checked that itinerary so many times and I thought I'd done the math in my head. SOOOO annoying. I'm going to email Aer Lingus and say look, I take full responsibility for this annoying mistake but could you give us Yanks a break and post times in both formats? I can't be the only American to have made that error!

Anyway, came back home, made good use of the time by watching Michael Collins (my mother sent me the video) and then slogged out the next day. I left early (after triple-checking the time for their first flight out) because of all the brouhaha about the TSA scanner. Which, by the way, I find fascinating--it's interesting how it's mostly men who are complaining about feeling objectified and groped. Cry me a river, boys. Oooh, don't like feeling like you're on display? Don't like feeling vulnerable? Really. You say their hands might be lingering a bit too much, might be taking liberties? How come suddenly it's now an Angry!Man crisis when this sort of thing happens to women all the time and no one seems to care that much? Heh heh heh. I love that at least two articles have identified the gender issue on this. And frankly, I go through TSA all the time, and have no complaints. I find if you're preemptively respectful to people whose jobs it is to keep us safe, it goes a long way. This is probably why I get along so well with cops.

ANYWAY. I got there at 1:00 and cooled my heels for an hour. They opened up at 2 (first flight out was 5:40) and I breezed right the eff on. No problem whatsoever--in fact I got close to the same seat I'd requested before (a window seat, which I require--I cannot sleep unless I can lean against the window). So I had a LONG time before boarding, so just chilled in the airport, drinking Guinnesses (I had to catch up after losing a day!). Eventually we boarded, took off, and I slept as much as I could. We arrived well before the crack of dawn, around 5:30. Dublin, as you know, is much further north than New York City--its latitude is 53 o 20' N so at this time of year, daylight is in short supply. Of course we sailed through customs and immigration, so by the time the airlink bus dropped me off and I'd lugged my baggage several blocks (it's easy to get confused when THE SUN HASN'T RISEN YET), I was shivering on the doorstep of the B&B I'd booked for the first part of my stay. Luckily she was up, since, as I said, it was still predawn. I had a muffin and coffee and then collapsed for three hours.

I forced myself to get up at noon, because I had a hack scheduled for that afternoon--since I'd lost the first day, now I had to ride out on the day I'd arrived! I packed my boots into my gym bag and went out to find something to eat, and then I would grab a cab to the stable. The riding center had changed my original reservation from a private ride to a group one, and changed the time as well--which, as things turned out, was very much in my favor. They cut the rate quite a bit for the time change--a private hack is around €55, a group one is about €40.

I found a yummy restaurant and had steak and Guinness pie. And then scored quite a bit of luck--I asked my waiter how to hail a cab here, I said "in new York we wave at the cab, is it the same custom here? He asked where I was going, I told him, he said "you know that's going to be expensive, taking a cab all the way out there. Let me see if I can figure out a better way." He talked to his boss, came back, and gave me directions on how to take the commuter light rail, called the Luas. So the guy saved me like €27, both ways! Suhweeet!

I took the Luas, and then a cab from the station and got to the stables where they put me right on a horse. I got there right at 3:30, so they had no time to do an assessment but as soon as they saw my seat, they relaxed. Jack down those heels, Clara! There were three of us including the guide--we made our way onto the country road and then into the surrounding mountains, but not before some incredible views of the Dublin Bay area.


View Dublin Trip 2010 in a larger map

So yeah--Thanksgiving Day, just a few hours after I'd arrived in the country, I was cantering in the Dublin mountains, overlooking the bay. I was in HEAVEN, absolute bliss. I was chattering away about riding in Virginia--at one point the other rider asked me if I rode English, I said "I'm from Virginia--there's no other option! Not only English but hunt seat." When you say riding in Virginia, it's understood what you mean, and Western ain't it!

I'd smuggled in a camera and was able, quite surreptitiously, to transfer it from my left coat pocket to my right, and then sneak it out whenever we were walking to take some pictures and video. I had to be very quiet about this--it is a bit of a risk* even at just a walk (I certainly wouldn't risk it while trotting or cantering) but I just couldn't go without getting some pictures!

*Which is what makes it fun--riding is nothing without a little danger!



I'll post the videos later.  But here am I exhausted and happy!

The other rider very kindly gave me a ride back to the Luas station (saving me a return taxi fare) and we had a lovely conversation about music and theater--she said her sister-in-law is some kind of musical academic and does lectures over here. When she heard I'd just directed Pirates, she said her SIL would get along great with me. I staggered back to Ballsbridge, the section of Dublin where the B&B was. As nice as this B&B was, it was a bit far out of the way, especially since I'd lost the first day already--if I go back to Dublin, I will probably not stay there again, it took me at least 20 minutes to get anywhere. I freshened up and then ventured out to find some yummy-ass hearty Irish food, and found this restaurant:





I had cockels and mussels (which were not alive, alive-o), Smithwicks, and a YUMMY Irish chowder. Staggered back to the B&B in the rain and went to sleep.

Here endeth the first day...

So I came across this site called discoverireland.com and in poking about it, I saw that they have themed vacations, including riding vacations. As in horseback riding. I have heard of such things--Kelly's friend Nicole Greevy mentioned them to me when the three of us (with Letham) hacked in Forest Hills once, but the one she mentioned was in Argentina (lotta good equestrians there). The idea is that you spend four or five days hacking through the countryside, stopping at sites and B&Bs and whatnot--a very picturesque tour of whichever country you choose. I wasn't aware of this, but Ireland has a long and proud equestrian tradition--I can't imagine how I didn't know this, but when I think of British equestrianship, I think of fox hunting in England. (And when I think of horse farms, I think of Kentucky.) I mean, outsiders do refer to non-western, American-style riding as English. ANYWAY. It is silly of me not to assume this--Ireland's topography is perfect for riding, not too smooth (and hence boring) and not too sheer like, say, Scotland. All those beautiful green rolling hills...

At any rate, I can't do a 4-5 day thing, obviously, but I would like to see if I can do a day or half-day trail ride or something. So I've started emailing these riding centers over there to see if they offer anything like this--it shouldn't be too late, I've ridden in colder weather than Dublin in November, certainly. January in Virgina can be brutal--I remember one time we hacked outside and the entire time, I was flexing my hands in my gloves, trying to warm them up. Maybe I can invest in some self-heating motorcycle gloves like my Dad has. And I think it's probably best to schedule this for later in the week, perhaps the day before I return, so if I'm in agony the next day, I'll just be on the plane anyway.

But what a perfect way to experience the Irish countryside, huh? Hopefully I can convince them to let me take a few jumps :> And I will definitely bring my camera!

This just breaks my heart. I read about this yesterday and started crying at my laptop.

Eight Belles places in Kentucky Derby, and then breaks her ankles as she's running off and is immediately euthanized. Right there on the track.

Aw, man. Why? Just...why?

I don't know that much about horse racing--the kind of riding I do is very different from jockeying, which is much more about racing technique and balance than horsemanship. I do know a little about the technique. I've been to Belmont Stakes several times, and I always cheer for the fillies. They don't win that often, you know. The ones that are entered have the hearts of champions--they're so brave and gallant, they'll do anything for their riders.

Aw, man. That beautiful, pretty little girl.

rest in peace

So this weekend kind of wiped me out but in a good way.

Friday

Tim and I went to the Open--we had the same seats we have every year which are fantastic. In Arthur Ashe wwe're in one of the corners, a couple of rows behind the family/player guest box, so we have seen the Williams family many times. (As we did this year.) Our Louis Armstrong seats are even better--three rows from the court. Tim has a friend who has season tickets for these seats for every day of the Open and just gives them away.

I got there a little late, around 1:00 but quickly got caught up on the first big match, Novak Djokovic (no. 3 seed) against Radek Stepanek (I can't remember his ranking--somewhere in the 40s, I think?). Anyway, this was an amazing match. They were neck and neck in every single set--the first two, and the final set went to tie-breakers. Just a perfect match, full of terrific play from both sides. The coolest thing about the match was how word was spreading through the complex that this was THE match, and the crowds got bigger...and bigger...and bigger. Not just in the stadium but on the grounds as well--there were huge crowds gathering at the big outdoor screens.

We saw Serena Williams who was struggling against some Russian player--it'll be interesting to watch her match against Justine. And Venus who looked lyrical out there--she was playing flawlessly, just eating up the court with those long legs of hers. She was in very good shape too, much better than Serena. If Serena and Venus continue to win, I think they're scheduled to meet in the semis--and I think Venus will take it. I think she may be going all the way.

We saw Rafael Nadal (who is HOT, just wook at dat cute little Mouseketeer face) play some interesting tennis--he's so good but he's suffering from tendonitis, as was his opponent, who retired sometime in the second set. So I rushed back over to Louis Armstrong to watch Lleyton Hewitt (also HOT) get smoked by Agustin Calleri, who sadly got knocked out two days later. Calleri was playing some incredible tennis that day, though--he's on his way for some big things.

At one point during the Djokovic/Stepanek match, I saw in the program that Martina Hingis and Daniela Hantuchova were playing a doubles match on Court 8 and I snaked my way through the general seating crowd to try to catch some of that. Sadly I got there just at the end and only got a glimpse of Martina. Love her tennis.

After a day full of glorious, wonderful, 5-set tennis ( we were especially thrilled because last year, the evening session was rained out), Tim and I finally left around 11:30 and went to the Wicked Wolf to get something to eat and hang out with his friend Donovan. I got home around 2:00.

Saturday

I had a riding lesson at 2:30 which meant I had to be out the door by 12:30 or so--unfortunately I was so tired from the Open, I forgot to set my alarm and woke up at 12:17. I was rushing around so much, I left my apartment in a mess which I HATE. But I quite enjoyed my lesson--they gave me a slightly smaller horse, Invisible, who was a former racehorse. One of the weirdest trots I've ever encountered--it was extremely bouncy and unrhythmic. I had to sit the trot for awhile before I could figure out how to post. I had one exciting event happen when Invisible spooked and TOOK OFF. Not a canter, a flat out gallop across the ring. I was thinking "okay, I may get thrown here, just stay relaxed" and all the time gathering up the reins in my hands, rolling them over my hands. Finally he stopped. The instructor, Helen, said "yes, you need to keep shorter reins with him, he likes to go. But the good thing is, you kept your seat and you stopped him. Were you scared?" I said a little, but I figured I'd get him under control.

After the lesson, I met Duncan at Elana's for a quick stopover at her Labor Day weekend house party--we had hamburgers and yummy food, and Lorraine's savage doggie attacked me with doggie kisses. I barely survived. Doggie kisses are intense. Elana let me shower at her place, and I was able to freshen up.

Duncan and I left after about an hour to go over to Queens for the Foxy Brown reading. I was so tired, I dozed off during our ten-minute break--I could hardly keep my eyes open. I went home and cuh-rashed.

Earlier this week, I finally availed myself of the "See who's in your address book who's also on MySpace" feature. I connected with an old friend, Sanjina, who used to work at Lazard. She is adorable and tiny--she responded all excited, saying her current BF writes for Thoroughbred Daily and she rides at a stable in Park Slope weekly. I wrote back "Uh, I guess we never talked about this but I used to ride a lot as well." She contacted her instructor and we're riding together this Sunday. She said we can do either a trail ride or a lesson in the ring.

Frankly I always prefer just hacking--it's more fun--but I could definitely use a lesson, although I haven't jumped in forever. Sanjina said with a lesson the intructor is able to critique your riding a lot more, which I could probably use. On the other hand, if it's really hot I might prefer just to hack, as it's cooler along the trail.

She told me about some other stables in the area, including one in Jamaica Bay along the beach. We also talked about riding upstate once the colors start appearing--she said it's less expensive up there as well (although I'm not sure how much opportunity I'll have once Christmas Carol starts).

So excited! I would really love to get back into this regularly, although it is NOT a cheap addiction. And hey, if we're riding in Park Slope, I should convince Kenneth to come along, since I've got some britches that fit him...I gave him a riding lesson backstage once. "Jack your heels down in the stirrups, because the foundation of horsemanship is your seat--that is, how much leg you have on the horse. Soft hands, now--you want to feel the horse's mouth just a little bit..." I told him I expected him to retain all of that once he took his first lesson ;)