I was 17, in Florida for an equine internship. It had been a long day of grooming, mucking and watching other people ride. It wasn’t until the late afternoon that I had time for the horses I was supposed to ride for the day.
It was hot there and I was weak. Being accustomed to New England weather, I didn’t handle the hot humidity well. My legs didn’t feel like walking anymore and I had no internal drive to do much.
I was handed the reins to this large gray horse. He had a long face with a roman nose and eyes that were too far apart. His conformation was dismal. His back was long and swayed in the middle, his belly pulled up into a wasp shape, he didn’t look as though he had ever used his abs in his life. His hind leg was just as bad, no muscle and he paddled out when he moved.
I saddled him in this fake leather Wintec they had lent me to use, it was not a great fit on him but I added some extra half pads to boost it up off his withers.
“We will make do with what we have,” I told him
His walk was long and gamey. I took him through the obstacle course.
Just as I was starting to get him moving out under saddle the wind picked up. I felt a warm hug of gratitude in my heart.
This heat was awful.
Then the sky opened up.
It was a proper afternoon thunderstorm in Florida. I stayed under the trees and we got to real work, trying to find some rhythm in his ugly trot.
I felt glad he wore cheap equipment, the bridle and reins were rubber so I didn’t need to worry about them getting ruined by the rain. The saddle was also fine, the fake leather was water repellent. The rain dripped through the ventilation on my helmet, running behind my ears and down my neck.
It was only a few minutes before I was drenched through. But I didn’t mind, at least I wasn’t sweating.
The ground was too slick when I went to canter so I spent some extra time in the trot trying to get him to stretch. By the time I was done the rain was nearly done as well, having turned into a drizzle.
He wasn’t a very affectionate horse, so I didn’t spend time petting him afterwards. I just wiped his tack off with a dry rag and put him out in his pasture.
The air was not cool from the rain. It turned hotter and heavier than it had been before. My breeches felt too tight on my legs and my shirt clung to me in all the ways I didn’t like.
When I walked into the house, I was immediately greeted by the woman I was working for.
“Congratulations!!” She exclaimed
I didn’t like loud interactions so I was wary and took a long look at her
“For what?”
“For not being a fair weather rider! I saw you out there, riding that horse in the rain. That takes grit!”
In truth, that was the happiest I’d been riding in Florida, the only time I didn’t hate my existence in the heat.
“Oh.. yeah,” I laughed to fill the void of answers I didn’t have.
"You must in all Airs follow the strength, spirit and disposition of the horse, and do nothing against nature; for art is but to set nature in order, and nothing else." - William Cavendish, 1st Duke of Newcastle 
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