A serial novel

Welcome to my serial novel! (ie - I'm making this up as I go...)

New here? Read the first chapter, than catch up on the blog archive.

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

5. Who?

If my life were a novel, today would be the type of day that the poor author would skip over. My ride on Estella after getting off the phone with Jessica was uneventful. She did everything I asked with obedience, but not a extra "flare" and after about 20 minutes of dressage I knew we had probably gotten our best work done and headed out for the three mile loop around the stable.

Estella, seeing our path headed out the gate and into the orchards settled into a relaxed, swinging walk knowing nothing was expected of her beyond calmness and being sensible while I zoned out.

Tevis. Horses. If I was being honest a bit of volunteer work and large animal experience was what my application lacked. I had been working for Jessica in a small animal clinic doing what *every other* vet school applicant did. I needed a way to stand out. I suppose I could go off to a foreign county and volunteer doing something and have some contrived life-changing experience to write about in my new-and-improved admissions essay. But I doubted I could make it unique and non-hokey enough in essay form to catch the attention of the admissions office. I was pretty sure essays with predictable themes such as "I wanted to be a vet since I was in first grade" and "I went to a foreign country and thought I would effect change but I ended up being the one changed" went into one pile - not necessarily the pile that would get me into vet school.

Doing a variety of volunteer jobs this summer would show investment in the community, dedication, and breadth of my interest. YES! Now THAT was an idea. Volunteering at one horse ride? Not so impressive. Making Tevis one of several volunteer projects this summer? That actually seemed feasible.

In my excitement of finally having a semblance of a plan for the next couple months, I must have squeezed with my legs because Estella broke into a happy trot.

Estella has many virtues but a smooth, rideable trot is not one of them.

As I bounced along I tried to imagine doing hours and hours and hours of trotting.


Would I be more bored or terrified doing endurance? Bouncing along in a straight line for 2 hours was in one sense the most boring thing I could imagine doing on horseback, but adding in cliffs, wildlife, and rocks seemed impossible for my little mind to process for hours on end. I tried to imagine a happy place between the two where riding 100 miles was mildly interesting, relaxing, and enjoyable. Ummmm....that was a futile exercise.

Maybe sometime I could sit down with Linda over some gin and tonics and she could explain it to me in baby words that would make sense.

There was something else that bothered me and it wasn't the prospect of trotting for a hundred miles or even what it was going to take to get into vet school. It was why someone was sinking so much money into this race.

It didn't make sense.

What was the incentive?

However, now that I thought about it, not only did I not know the WHY, I didn't even know the WHO.

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