Fender and I got into the USEF Young Horse Training Sessions with Scott, and the part I was most worried about was the hack from Double Bridle to Mary Ann and Walter McPhail’s beautiful property. So when Fender and I came down the farm driveway together instead of apart, I knew we were gravy!

And we were. Fender was his wonderful self, and Scott was quite helpful. We agreed that at the trot, I really own Fender’s neck but not his back, and at the canter, I totally get the back but not the neck. And we also all agreed that Fender is a little weaker left than he is right. Scott gave me some great exercises to address all of the above, and I left Wednesday eager to ride with Scott again on Thursday.

Alas, it was not to be. But not for any reason I would have seen coming.

Thursday I got up and started doing stalls, my usual morning routine. I had just finished with Tres’ stall and pushed the not-even-half-full wheelbarrow out into the aisle. And then I tried to stand up. And something gave out in my back. And I couldn’t move, could barely breathe, without a piercing pain.

Ruh-roh.

I somehow slink to my apartment and swallow a fistful of Tylenol and grab an icepack, but my whole world is flashing before my eyes. What if I’ve slipped a disk? What if I broke something? What if I can’t ride? What if I have to go home? Could I sit in the truck for 17 hours? What am I going to do?

One crisis at a time I try to tell myself, and that first crisis is: How do I get to help? I didn’t want an emergency room visit if I could avoid it, and thankfully there’s an urgent care center in Royal Palm Beach, a 20-minute drive. But I’m in way too much pain to drive; I can’t even sit. Jerry—who helps out Roz, one of the other trainers at the farm—to the rescue. He grabs my truck, and I somehow scootch myself into the backseat, laying down.

It takes a little while to get out of the waiting room and get seen by a nurse, but once that process starts, things move pretty quickly. Not a slipped or ruptured disk, unlikely that it’s a break, Doc says. Just a nasty muscle spasm. He’s quick with some drugs, and he tells me that these things improve slowly, but that I should be feeling much, much better in a few days. HOORAH!

I’m lucky on several accounts—lucky the damage wasn’t worse, that I wasn’t scheduled to show, and mostly I’m lucky because I’m in a barn full of great people, who have all MOST graciously taken over the care of my horses. Twenty-four hours post-injury I still can barely walk and can’t bend at the waist. I don’t have to go home. I don’t have to give up riding. All will be fine. And adding this to all the other chaos that’s gone over the last few months, I’m just clearing a big ol’ chunk of bad karma out of the way in one fell blow.

Fortuitously, of all the weekends to be out of commission, this ain’t a bad one, because I’m getting to watch all of the CDI***** Masters competition at the Jim Brandon Center. I watched the whole Grand Prix last night, and while all the horses looked excellent, Steffen Peters and Ravel—who I’d only seen on video, never live—took it to an entirely new level, one I’d never seen in the flesh. What I’ve always admired about them is the looseness they present, but last night they added a whole new degree of power. It’s a really sexy combination, to be honest. My heart went pitter-pat.

Calecto, too, looked QUITE impressive, and my favorite was Michal Rapcewicz of Poland, whose Randon has wonderful expression (and who isn’t tough on the eyes, either). I’m writing this from the press area after the Grand Prix Special, won by Michal, with Pierre St. Jacques right on his heels, also on a very, very nice ride.

The whole competition just reminds me how tremendously accurate, powerful and controlled you have to be in order to really make the international mark at Grand Prix; watching the Grand Prix divisions at the local shows just isn’t in the same ball game. I think I speak for the dressage community at large when I say that we’re so lucky to have this caliber of competition here in the States, and that we’re so, so grateful to the sponsors who came in and saved this event at the 11th hour. Hats off to you, Axel Johnson Group, et al, who made the 2011 Masters possible!

Tonight’s the freestyle, which I’m absolutely thrilled to see. I’ve bought a Thermacare Heat Wrap for my back just for the occasion!