Typical Day
It's 6:00AM and Graciela Martinez's alarm goes off. Ooof. She hauls herself out of bed and drags herself over to the laundry hamper. She keeps two: one for barn clothes, and one for non-barn clothes. The barn clothes hamper, as usual, was overflowing.
If she had her way, she'd put on some barn clothes and head straight for the stable, but that's not the way it works. She has to train her own muscles before she can attend to her horse's.
Graciela crams handfuls of granola into her mouth as she trots to the weight room, gym bag thumping against her back. Her mind buzzes as she plans out her day in her head. First, weight training. Then, a shower. Classes from 9:00AM to 2:30PM. Lunch—the first sit-down meal of the day—and then she could finally go to the barn, where she would spend several hours practicing with her favorite horse, Lucky Star.
After that, it's dinner, study hall, and maybe fifteen minutes of downtime before she passes out from sheer exhaustion.
Graciela thinks about everything she has to do and can't help but feel a little bit overwhelmed. She knows she can do it all—she did it all every day—but it's still kind of mind-boggling to her that anybody can cram that much into one day.
The gym was packed full of equestrians. You could tell because almost everyone donned a t-shirt with a horse or a quip about horses on it.
Graciela hops onto a treadmill and starts jogging. After a few minutes, her teammate, Chloe, appears on the treadmill to her right. There was a brace on her wrist, and her t-shirt announced, "You don't scare me. I ride horses." Classic Chloe.
"How's it going?" Chloe asks.
"Fine," Graciela puffs. "You?"
"Alright. Sprained my wrist yesterday. Jackson freaked out while I was riding bareback and I just—nyoooop." Chloe makes a motion indicating that she had slid sideways off her horse.
"What scared him?"
Chloe shrugs, which is impressive considering that she's still jogging. "You know horses. Sometimes they just—blaaaagh." She waves her hands around in a "completely freaking out" gesture.
Graciela did know horses. She had fallen off more times than she could count. Usually, she only came away with some scrapes and bruises, but she'd had her share of sprains and fractures as well.
Twenty minutes later, Graciela stumbles off the treadmill and heads for the rack of kettlebells. She picks up the twenty-pound weight and starts to go through a series of core exercises. Her core was already pretty strong, but not strong enough. It would never be strong enough. Graciela rides hunter seat, so she has to be able to sit up really straight for long periods of time.
The gym session alone would have been enough to tire her out, but Graciela's day has barely begun. She dashes through the shower (not literally, obviously) and then scuttles off to class, eating more granola as she goes.
Lunch rolls around and Graciela is starving. She had snacked in between classes all day—at first on the granola and apples that she had packed, then on Fritos from the vending machine. What she needs now is a proper meal.
She goes to the cafeteria, loads her plate up with all the healthy green things she can find, and devours them all. She also stuffs down some spaghetti and meatballs, and then she looks longingly at the brownies but doesn't get them. She knows better than that.
A few minutes pass, though, and any longing for brownies that Graciela might have felt vanishes. With her gym session and her classes out of the way, there's nothing keeping her away from the barn. She goes back to her dorm, changes into barn clothes, and hops on her bike.
The barn's a bit of a hike from campus, both because the horses need lots of space and because the school didn't want its campus smelling like a barn. Graciela never quite understood this.
The barn swarms with equestrians, all brushing down and saddling up their horses. Everyone seems to be in a good mood. People laugh and chat as they work. Graciela greets everybody as she elbows her way to Lucky Star's stable. She's nearly reached her favorite horse when Coach Canter appears next to her, frowning.
"Oh, no you don’t, Martinez," she scolds. "You need to practice on another horse."
"But Coach—"
Coach Canter holds up her hand. "I don't want to hear it," she emphasizes. "Look, Martinez, I know that everyone's got their favorite horse. But college equestrian is about being able to get up on a horse that you've never even met before and make it do what you want. The other horses aren't just here for decoration, you know." She points at the stable in the far corner—a dark, shadowy place that nobody ever ventures to. "I want you on Socks today."
Graciela's heart sinks. Socks is a young horse—only eight years old—and practically impossible to control. The last time Graciela rode on Socks, she ended up flat on her back within ten minutes.
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asks, as visions of getting squashed by a horse dance through her head. "We've got a competition in a few weeks. I don't want to miss that."
"Then I suggest you don't try jumping today," Coach Canter answers briskly. "Stick with flat work."
She sees the look on Graciela's face and frowns. "Something the matter, Martinez?"
"No," Graciela replies helplessly. As much as she loves horses and riding, and she also loves her scholarship. She doesn't want to fall out of Coach's good graces. Still, riding Socks was not how she had pictured her afternoon.
Coach Canter's face softens for a split second. "I know. Socks is strong-willed. But I'm confident that you can handle her. I wouldn't tell you to do this if I didn't think you could."
With that, Coach Canter walks off to help a teammate with a saddle, leaving Graciela with no choice but to get Socks ready for practice. Her teammates look pityingly at her, and Graciela half-expects them to start singing a funeral dirge.
Socks proves to be impossible to ride. She doesn't want to walk nicely, she doesn't want to go where she's told, and she keeps huffing as if to say, "If you really want to go that way, you can walk yourself there."
Suddenly, Socks decides to be a jerk and jerks Graciela off her back. Typical. She lands with a thud on the soft—but dirty—barn floor. Graciela's fellow equestrians stop dead in their tracks and attempt to see through the cloud of dust that now surrounds Graciela. Everyone is completely silent as they wait for the dust to settle.
When it does, they find Graciela lying on her back with her hand to her forehead and her face twisted in pain. Her eyes flutter open to discover a gaggle of girls encircling her. "Are you okay?" a few of them ask. Graciela mumbles incoherently.
Socks clops over to her side and whinnies. "Don't be such a baby," mocks Socks. "I'm not even that tall."
"Wh-what…?" stammers Graciela. Horses, after all, can't talk.
"You know what they say about falling off the horse," Socks continues, waiting for Graciela to finish the shameless cliché. Graciela stares at Socks, mouth agape. She still doesn't get it. Socks sighs. "You get back on. Come on, it's written on Stacy's t-shirt," says the horse, who's popping with perspicacity. It's wondrous and mystical.
Graciela rubs her eyes and shakes her head. Socks is in the corner, completely inconspicuous, and definitely not talking to her. Instead, Coach Canter is crouched by her side.
"You're alright, Graciela. You're alright," Coach reassures her. "It just takes practice. It's a good thing you were wearing your helmet."
"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm not even hurt. I think I'm just stressed," explains Graciela. Denial's always the first step.
"Yeah, Socks was giving you a hard time, but you kept your cool. You understand that riding is about partnership, not just control. You're a good rider, Martinez. Keep it up."
Graciela's squashed hopes re-inflate a bit. She goes back to her dorm and showers, which makes her feel better. By the time she finishes scarfing down her chicken dinner, she’s feeling more hopeful. Socks—er, Coach—should give her pep talks more often.
After dinner is study hall. Graciela does her homework slowly because she's tired. She keeps getting distracted by horse memes. Her favorite is the Horse ebooks Twitter.
She finally finishes with everything around 10:00PM. After that, she packs up her things and wanders back to her dorm.
Her roommate's out—probably at one of the zillion clubs that she's involved with. Graciela doesn't have time for clubs; her days are booked solid. But they're days filled with horses and great teammates, so it's okay.