How do you respond when one of your worst fears comes true?
This post is a deep dive on my first fall off my horse: how it happened, what recovery looks like, plans for future horse activities, and how failure can help us become better (a lesson all of us could use, even if we never ride horses).
Before I get into the gory details, I need to tell you that my No. 1 goal in 3 ½ years of frequent horseback riding has been this: DON’T FALL OFF.
My phobia of falling isn’t new. It’s kept me from being a daredevil when hiking or skiing.
And it’s definitely top of mind when I climb on a 1200-pound animal that can spook at a plastic grocery bag blowing in the wind.
When I shopped for my first horse, I searched for one that was as close to “bomb proof” as I could get.
Bomb proof means that the horse won’t misbehave no matter what’s happening or who is in the saddle. Bomb proof horses are labeled as safe for children, grandmas and husbands.
But in reality, there’s no such thing as a horse that never gets bothered.
I chose Penny because she is an ex-Texas Prison Horse with solid training designed to make a horse easy to handle on the ground and willing and responsive to ride.
The Approach
My fear of falling off has hobbled my skills as a horsewoman, as I’m not confident going fast. Walking and trotting are fine, and I’ll do a lot of both. But I don’t have a lot of experience at the faster gait: loping in Western riding or cantering in English riding.
It took me a long time in lessons to lope a horse because of my fear of falling. I started loping on a few of the lesson horses and thought I was getting the hang of it.
Then I got Penny, who doesn’t like to lope. While some horses have a nice, rhythmic lope – often described as a rocking chair lope – Penny’s lope was a herky-jerky mess that bounced me around in the saddle. She had this bad habit of veering off the rail in the arena before she turned a corner, and this bad habit caused another adult student at our Texas lesson barn to fall off and get a minor concussion.
Penny’s poor loping could be a result of an old injury. In her pre-purchase exam, the only issue the vet noted was some stiffness in her back right leg where she has what looks like scarring from getting wrapped in barbed wire.
Or it could be from poor conditioning or just a bad attitude about going fast with a rider. I’ve seen her run around in the pasture, so I KNOW she can go fast.
The Accident
All that is to say that I spent years trying to avoid falling, and it finally happened.
This was my first fall after more than two years of owning a horse and three and a half years of riding frequently.
On Dec. 7, a day that will live in personal infamy, I had a RUD (rapid, unscheduled dismount) from Penny.
I knew right away that she was in a nervous state of mind. Just moments after we started, she did a little crow hop which is when all four feet come off the ground. But it was over in an instant, so we kept going.
We always start with walking a warm-up lap in the pasture, which went fine. But when I asked her to trot, she wanted to go faster than the nice, easy sitting trot I had in mind. I slowed her down to a walk again.
The next time we trotted, she got going fast and even loped a few strides. I quickly shut her down and had her walk in an S-pattern.
Then the next door neighbor came out to walk her dog, and the dog barked incessantly at Penny, which had happened a time or two before.
Penny seemed a bit annoyed, and I was, too. Like us, they have plenty of land and could walk farther away from our fence.
Just as I was contemplating ending my ride with her walking a few tight circles, which helps her think and calm down, she blew up.
I don’t know if it was the dog or something else startled her, but she lowered her neck and kicked up her back legs. I bounced in the saddle but was still on her back. Then she twisted sideways to the right and kicked out again.
I thought, “I’m going to come off” a split second before I hurtled over her left shoulder.
Fortunately, I ALWAYS wear my helmet and didn’t hit my head, but I came down hard on my upper back/base of the neck.
I could move all my extremities, but my upper back throbbed with pain and it hurt more when I took a deep breath. My neighbor asked if I was alright and if she needed to phone someone. I told her I had a phone, which I always carry when I ride.
I called my daughter Rachel to come out and help me and unsaddle Penny, who, after bucking like a rodeo bronc, seemed surprised to find me on the ground.
Rachel unsaddled the now calm Penny, who acted like an angel horse who never does anything wrong. Rachel opened the gate for me and put my tack away while I hobbled to the house.
The Aftermath
I immediately found the ibuprofen and called my daughter Anna, my favorite medical professional who is an EMT in Oklahoma and currently in paramedic school.
“Should I go to the ER?” I asked.
I told her my pain level was about a 7 and it hurt to take a deep breath, “but I can move everything.”
She told me in no uncertain terms that I should go to the ER, due to the pain and breathing.
Rachel drove me to the ER and, despite her careful efforts, the pain intensified during acceleration and turning corners.
I was admitted into the triage area pretty fast. When you tell them you fell off a horse, I think you go to the front of the line.
A painful CT-scan revealed fractures to the C-7 (base of the neck) and T2 (second vertebra from the top of the back). After the scan (I wish it had been before), the ER nurse gave me some powerful pain meds. One of them was morphine, which prompted my very first drug-induced hallucinations. The soap dispenser looked like it was melting down the wall.
Then I saw the Hutchinson ER doctor, who said surgery might be needed, and the nearest neurosurgeon was in Wichita.
Lucky me, I got to ride in an ambulance to Wesley Medical Center and see first-hand the kind of work Anna does when she drives what they call “the transfer truck.”
Once in Wichita, the neurosurgeon looked at my scans and called the fractures “minimal.” He told the trauma unit staff that I wouldn’t need surgery (thank you, Jesus!).
They were going to keep me overnight, strapped into a neck brace and medicated for pain. The next morning, the neurosurgeon’s PA told me I only needed to wear the neck brace for pain. Everyone else had told me to expect to wear it 24/7 for six weeks.
Hubby Shawn arrived at the hospital in Wichita not long after I did and spent the night in the hospital chair. He drove me home about 24 hours after the accident.
My doctor said I couldn’t run and I shouldn’t lift anything heavier than 10 pounds.
The first week I kept the neck brace on all the time except when showering and slept in a recliner. The second week I took the neck brace off to sleep, now propped up in bed with an extra pillow.
Since the third week, I’ve been going for longer periods without the neck brace and managing my activity level by alternating moving around with sitting or reclining.
Now it’s been a little more than a month, and I still have some pain if I’m active for very long. I start physical therapy next week, which should help me heal.
For someone who runs, rides and exercises for mental health as much as physical wellbeing, it’s a challenge to be sedentary. But I’m trying to focus on the positive. My injury wasn’t that bad, and I’m on the mend.
The Assessment
Even though it’s still a ways off, I’m thinking about the challenge of literally getting back in the saddle.
How do I deal with the very real fear of falling off?
One of the first thoughts I had after falling was that I need to invest in good equipment.
A lot of riders, especially older ones like me, wear safety vests that protect the back, neck and ribs.
Some of them use air and are hooked to the saddle. When you come off, a canister of air puffs up your vest before you hit the ground. Others use padding and structure.
Then there’s making sure her saddle and other tack fits her well and isn’t contributing to a problem. I bought my saddle off Facebook Marketplace, so a better saddle might help.
What factors contributed to the accident?
I think one of the main problems is that I was so busy moving that I’ve only ridden Penny maybe six times since we moved her to Kansas on July 31.
I spent more time in Texas than in Kansas from August through November while Rachel took care of Penny. My fall came just 24 hours after we brought the tenth and final load to Plum Prairie Ranch in our epic move.
Penny and I need more time together.
She needs more training and bonding with me, so she trusts my leadership. I need more training, too.
I want to start doing groundwork with her on a frequent basis. Groundwork helps horses learn to listen to their people before they’re under saddle.
Some riders do groundwork before a ride. I’m planning to become one of those people, instead of rushing to get in the saddle. Groundwork helps horses calm down and listen to their people.
I also could get a professional assessment of Penny’s loping issues to see if it’s related to pain. She also might benefit from several sessions with a trainer.
Once I’m fully recovered, I want to take more lessons with Penny so we become a better team.
My favorite horse activity is trail riding, so I’d like to find some experienced trail riding buddies to go with us on a regular basis.
The Advantages of Failure
I could choose to give up after a painful failure, but I’d rather learn from it and become better as a result of it.
What can we learn from failure?
A lot, as it turns out.
A 2010 study I found in this article from Psychology Today says that we learn more from our failures than we do from our successes, and we remember those lessons longer.
When I fail, I need to move quickly from beating myself up by seeking to learn and grow.
Here’s how my life can become better after failure:
1. I can become more resilient.
Resilience is the strength to keep going when the going gets tough. It leads to a growth mindset, and, ultimately hope. Persevering through difficulties makes us stronger, which helps us face challenges in the future.
“…We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope…” – Romans 5:3-4
2. I can embrace humility.
Newsflash: I’m not perfect. When I choose to approach a situation without arrogance or trying to make myself look good, I put myself in a better position to learn. Also, humility can impact our relationships for the better when we admit our shortcomings. We can offer grace when others mess up because we’ve messed up, too.
3. I can get curious.
How can I turn this situation around? Failure can lead to innovation and creativity. It can result in better processes, like me doing more groundwork with Penny.
4. I can choose to move forward with courage.
I don’t want fear to force me into a smaller life. There will be a time when I won’t ride horses anymore, but that day isn’t here yet.
I want to do what I can to be safe – like getting a protective vest and more training – AND become a better horsewoman.
As I work with Penny more, we both can grow in our conditioning and confidence.
Learning new skills, both physical and mental, helps us thrive as we get older.
Overcoming failure is a valuable skill for anyone to develop.
How can you begin today to learn and grow from your own challenges?
RELATED POSTS:
You can read more about my horse shopping Part 1, Part 2 and the conclusion.
More about Penny and my first year of horse ownership is found in this post.
Carolyn Dimas says
So sorry to hear that your fall resulted in more than just bumps & bruises Sandra. All of the ‘move forward’ steps sound well thought out🐴 i had my share of falls during my horse days (worse was a broken collarbone) but was veeerrry much younger – when we bounced back more quickly. Take it slow & ease your way back to riding because it’s a blessing to be able to be a horse woman!
Sandra says
I didn’t realize that you rode horses! And yes, when we’re young we just bounce better. Thanks for the encouragement!