We were in the indoor, and only had about 2/3 of it.

There was much cantering in a circle, which was naturally easier for me to do than rise in the trot, so I wasn’t feeling too bad about not being able to jump. [Lie.]

But there was also only so much that I could take, as my ankle was really sore [did I mention that I belted my left ankle against a metal thing in Stockholm on a press trip? It really is too stupid to explain.] And again, just being around the horses was great for morale, so I was happy enough to sit there and rotate my foot.

A couple of the polocrosse teens were hanging out in the lesson.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ one asked.

I explained, about the torn muscle, the Achilles, the heel, the arch of the foot.

‘How’d you do that?’

Well, see, there was this dressage test, and he wouldn’t canter in bounds, and bang bang, and then it was okay, but I, er, was watching the World Cup —

‘Oh my God, you were in South Africa!?’

Uh, no.

‘You did that watching the television?’

Yeah.

Expression of disdain that belongs in the dictionary next to the definition. [Sigh.]

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