It all sounds a bit errrm painful. I went horse riding the other week with my daughter down at Ogmore by Sea. I used to ride a lot when I was younger and did a fair bit last year having some refresher lessons.
It involved a two hour ride to the beach and through the sand dunes-When it came to having a bit of a canter at the end of the ride, I said yeh I’m up for that.
So, I prepare myself for a canter at the front of the ride, well third from front, behind some very good looking beasts. I turned around and smiled at my daughter and said see you at the other end and before I knew it the bloody horse had taken off at not a canter but a full gallop.
I didn't know what to do sit or squat and quickly found out the hard way-which was to squat in jockey position whilst screaming at mad mare to steady and whoa bitch whoa.

I looked at sand dunes and pictured myself being somersaulted through air but quickly felt relieved that at least I would have a soft landing if I could at least duck and twist my body around the odd tree that would be in my way on journey to ground at 40 miles an hour.
I remembered also that I had not written my will and sorted my knickers draw out for a while and hoped it was not left up to my mother to sort out my personal belonging and certain items of clothing and err gadgets and tried to picture the look on her face if she ever discovered my little secrets!!
Eventually after what seemed to be an eternity of realising I do have muscles in my thighs after all, the mad mare came to a smooth canter and refined trot to finish. But alarmingly in what I can only describe as delayed shock and adrenaline junkie type hysteria, I shouted- that was fecking great, can we do it again??
Naturally, the days to follow were ones of painful and realisation that trough my attempting to sit whilst at full gallop I am now 2inches shorter and I had to turn to very strong drugs to enable me to walk.
If any fitness person thinks they are fit they need to go horse riding-it is only for the brave and slightly insane.
