On Friday I took off work early so we could head up to Willow Draw for one last XC school before Coconino. It’s a 4 hour drive, and it’s hot, so we decided to drive up on Friday, school on Saturday morning, and then drive home. That makes it slightly less awful. We got there Friday evening, rode the horses for all of 10 minutes (lord, the humidity), went to get food, and then went to bed.
On Saturday morning all started out normal. I got up, fed the horses, changed, and started prepping all my stuff. Then my stomach started hurting. Then I found myself in the bathroom 3 times in the span of an hour. I wasn’t sure what was happening but I realized my stomach was not happy. I swung up on my horse just hoping I wouldn’t have to make an emergency run for the bushes while we were riding. I dunno what’s up with me lately but the last 3 times I’ve seen Trainer, I’ve been either sick or injured. Maybe it’s her. (just kidding… maybe…)
Henry was On Fire with a wild hair up his butt, very happy to be back out in his element. We had to have a couple of discussions about who’s actually in charge of the speed at which we travel and where we leave the ground. He was super game though, definitely his normal self, which is a relief since I tried to kill us at our last XC schooling and I was worried it might affect his confidence. Yeah, no. Zero percent. He was balls to the wall and very delighted to be there.
We didn’t do a whole lot, no need to jump his legs off right before a long trip, we just wanted to get him listening and balanced and get our heads back into the XC game. Rideability was the focus. By the midway point of the school I started feeling like I might puke, but I managed to hold it together until the end. Something was definitely up. By this point I was in what could only be called severe gastric distress, I just wasn’t sure which end was ultimately going to suffer most. You know what makes for a really long drive home? Someone who has to stop at regular intervals to become a human fountain. It was horrific. Indescribably bad. I had Satan inside of me.
We eventually made it back to the barn late afternoon, got the horses unloaded, and then I started driving home. At which point I became concerned I wouldn’t actually make it before Satan made another appearance. I had the pedal to the metal, white-knuckling the steering wheel. By the time I Toyko-drifted into my neighborhood I was sweating profusely. My normally 40 minute drive took 33 minutes. Y’all, this was one of the most distressed times of my life. I made it to the bathroom, but barely. The neighbor was outside when I came screeching into my driveway and made a mad dash for the house, so I don’t know what he thinks but either way he’s probably right.
By that point I was definitely convinced I had food poisoning, and I capped off my delightful day by puking 6 times in half an hour. That seemed to finally do the trick though, or just managed to empty me out so completely that there was nothing left for my body to be angry about. Either way, it was a sweet relief. I spent yesterday rehydrating and ate some soup, all of which stayed down just fine. My appetite isn’t back to 100%, but the human fountain episodes are gone, so all seems to be well now. Talk about some really freaking great timing though. Lord.
So that was… a fun… experience.
But Henry feels great, and he looks great, and despite spending 8 hours in a trailer and plus an XC school all within 24 hours he was still apparently wild enough to run laps in turnout that evening while Presto and Dobby buried their heads in the round bale. I jokingly told the vet that maybe he put in too much hock juice. I’m totally okay with it though, I like it when he feels good, even if it means he’s extra sassy.
And now, let the packing commence. 2 more work days until I’m free!