I’m in high school, walking my horse out after another frigid ride in the middle of January in New Jersey. It’s 18 degrees with a wind chill. My gloves and boots are stuffed with hand and feet warmers, but my fingers and toes are still numb. It’s pitch black outside as it has been for the last few hours - the sun goes down at 4:30 p.m. I’ve been walking out for a few minutes, delaying what’s coming next.
I pull up to the exit of the arena, and slide one leg over to dismount. I wince as my numb feet hit the frozen ground, sending a shockwave up my lower legs. I take a minute to let the blood flow back into my feet, and then start walking my horse back to the barn.
This was just one “fun” feature of winter riding I find myself remembering as I let my dog outside into a snowy backyard on a 10 degree morning in New Jersey, right before Christmas. Now over a decade removed from high school and a Florida resident, anything below 40 degrees is uncomfortable and anything below 20 degrees is unbearable.
I watch my dog take off through the snow, and marvel at 17 year old me who would have already been on her way to the barn on a morning like this. Not giving a second thought to the freezing weather and the challenges it often presents when working with horses - numb fingers fumbling with tack and iced over gate latches, horses made fresh and difficult by the wind, and of course, the death defying stunt of riding while snow is sliding off the roof of the indoor arena in small avalanches.
As my dog comes bolting back toward the house, having reached her limit for enduring the cold - I think that the barn must have been where I learned to be consistent under any circumstance. I’ve since lost my tolerance for winter weather, but I’ve held fast to the principle of whole-hearted commitment. Because just as it was a no-brainer then to be driving to the barn on a 10 degree morning to ride, it’s a no-brainer now to be driving to the trail on a 95 degree day to run.
To have grown up in a barn is a gift. It built the character that makes big, wild goals possible for me today. What I consider to be one of my greatest strengths as a runner - unrelenting consistency - can be traced back to what I learned as a young rider, especially on those freezing cold days in January. The sport and the weather may be different, but the commitment to the pursuit remains the same.
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