4th Common Ride - Attack of the Stirrups (Part 2) - 22/7/13

Today’s Common Ride arrived quickly – only 6 days after my last jaunt. With swelling that compressed my sciatic nerve, my left leg had been a bit of a flop all week, but with great improvement in my range of motion, overall control, and general degree of sensation. While I wouldn’t have chosen to hack with my leg not fully recovered, I wasn’t prepared to lose my deposit and not take part in my local Common Ride, especially as it’s meant to be a pretty tame affair and I was on the darling Abbie. I mean, what could go wrong?!

L adjusted my stirrups for me before I mounted. Luckily Abbie stood like a lamb, because mounting was the part I was most concerned about – my weak leg would have to take all of my weight and actively push me up and over the saddle to sit astride it. Luckily this happened with no issue whatsoever, and I felt vindicated that my leg would be strong enough to ride on. What became quickly apparent however, was that Abbie had different leathers on from my last ride – the top hole after 1 loop was not only too long this time, but was vastly uneven. I cursed not going to the yard at the weekend to put my own stirrup leathers and irons on her saddle! I toyed with them as best I could, but I never really get a feel for what even is until I’m out trotting, and this would prove to be the case yet again.

Fording the river in the middle of town was glorious – the banks and bridges were covered in people cheering us on, and Abbie powered her way into the water. This Common Ride is different from all the others – rather than being in the general cavalcade at your own pace, with a marshal or two at the front and back of the pack to ensure people go the correct way, this Ride is actively patrolled. This means that the whole snake is split into about 10 or more groups, with one or two marshals escorting each one. Essentially, it gives it a hack-like feel: you stick in a group of 7-15 people roughly, and can’t over-take your Ride Leader – in this case an official Marshal from the town. I had stuck with people from the yard, so that we made up a little herd that regularly hack together and seek each other’s company, and because the people I was riding with chose it as a safer group than many of the others, with the bonus of an extra Marshal. All this created much more work for me in walk and trot however – Abbie’s only marish tendency is to be opinionated about where she is in the pack, and she likes to power her way towards the Official Party at the front; so, holding her within a small group, never mind the penultimate group of the ride with only half a dozen or so horses behind us, was a challenge; Abbie certainly began the fight at the water!

Trotting was deeply uncomfortable – I could feel that my stirrups weren’t quite even. Luckily, I had enough warning about the first canter to put my left leg up one hole, which I hoped would be about right. We took off on a canter track – a dusty path on farmland, and I immediately felt uneasy: one hole did not make for even stirrups, and I had the awkward issue of my right leg being short-enough to make the more forward light seat most comfortable, and the left one so long that only standing upright was comfortable; essentially, no matter what way I positioned myself, I couldn’t feel comfortable with these stirrups. The second set of canters quickly came, so I tried sorting the left stirrup to bring it up but no joy – I was on the top hole so needed another twist but had no time to put one in. I then put my right stirrup back down a hole, hoping that I would at least be comfortable enough to sit the canter or just stand up slightly. Again, it was not even enough to make this comfortable either: rather than relaxing and enjoying the canter, and my balance naturally compensating for slight fluctuations in the ground, I had to actively control it – I would feel more weight in one stirrup and have to deliberately shift my weight over. I’d see a change in the ground coming up, and I had to allow for it, where with even stirrups it would have been so subtle as to be done on autopilot. I was so annoyed – I really wanted to be enjoying these canters rather than working so hard for them. I also felt like I was making life unnecessarily hard for Abbie, and she was more objectionable than usual: I’d ask her to come back to me a little as I felt a bit uncomfortable at times, or the dust was so bad that I couldn’t see, and rather than listen immediately, she tossed her head at me and took much stronger aids to relent. That little mare has the patience of the saint, but even I was beginning to try her!

The break couldn’t come soon enough. I got a bottle of water, Abbie got food and drink, I got caught up with my riding buddy who was much further ahead on the faster Ripper, and I finally got to put a loop into my left leather. It would take another trot on the roads to find as close to even as I was going to get, but there were no canters left to really try them out – only the two gallops: one on the back of the race course, and one along the beach. I considered doing one but not the other – all the uneven riding had caused immense pain in the hip I fell on last week, and I wasn’t sure my body would be strong enough to handle both. I put my big girl pants on and told that wee voice to shut the hell up – the best bits were yet to come, and short of my leg falling off, I’d be doing them by hook or by crook!

The race track was fun, but now that my leathers had stretched with riding, they were still a little longer than I was comfortable with, and I had to work to keep my left heel down as my weak ankle was tiring. I also had the same issue I had earlier – that I didn’t quite have short enough leathers to make up and forward the most comfortable, so when I’d get a bit unhappy trying that, I’d sit and try to bring Abbie back a bit. When in that deeper position, keeping my heels down was an issue, and Abbie’s canter felt so bumpy, that I actually found it much more difficult to manually adjust my balance. So, I had a choice between the more forward seat that would leave me more vulnerable if Abbie spooked, kicked or threw in a dirty stop, or I could try and bring her back a bit but also get bounced off in the process. I am sad to say that I was pleased when the stewards on foot told us to start bringing our horses back; on a day with even stirrups and a functional leg, I’d have been so disappointed to have stopped then, and would have kicked on to really open up Abbie’s gallop. As it was, I was between the frying pan and the fire in terms of my seat, balance and comfort. If the beach hadn’t been the last bit of fast work of the day, I might have been tempted to call it quits, and save my aching hip.

I was not prepared to chicken out of the beach gallop however, even after discomfort on the race track – I have been dreaming of galloping along a beach in the summer sunshine since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, and I’d survived longer, windier and faster gallops so far on this ride!

The start was a difficult one. One of our Marshals had a tool of a horse – it was spinning, napping, reining back… Essentially, if it had to walk or stand still, it was a total handful. The ground crew shouted our instructions to us before we hit the sand – to go as far out onto the firmer, wet sand as possible before starting the gallop, and anyone over-taking needs to go out wide, or they’ll fill their neighbour’s face with sand when passing. The marshal’s horse was not handling the walk out onto the firm sand well, and spun directly into me. The horse smashed into my weaker left side, and knocked my leg backwards, completely out of the stirrup. I knew I had about 2 seconds tops to get my stirrup back, or my horse was taking off and nothing I could do would stop her; I’d also run the risk of being bounced off, as it was an issue I had even when I had both stirrups! Abbie and I were straight, pointing the right way, and deep into the firm ground – we were about to go. It took two attempts, but thankfully I got my stirrup a fraction of a section before Abbie lent on her hocks and sprang into action!

The ground was strange to ride on – it was more very fine pebbles than pure sand, and it was deeper than I thought. I was glad Tom hadn’t come to film me or photograph me – I knew I had my concentration face on! There were a lot of cheers, and most riders waved, and I got comfy enough to give two waves along the way (whereas I often ride whole gallops one handed once I’ve settled my horse’s speed); the rest I spent so busy concentrating on my seat and balance to worry about giving a good show. I also knew any pro photos of me would be pants as my face was black with dust from the early canters, and I’d look terrible. What’s the betting that I find a great action shot somewhere, but I look too awful to have it printed?! lol. This gallop did end too early for me however, and I was delighted to finish it smiling and happy. I also gave my nervous friend a pat on the back: she’d only done this ride once before, and at a much slower pace because it was in torrential rain. She’d gone much faster this year, and while it tried her nerves, I think she’ll look back on it with great happiness and affection!

My filthy face and neck: 

A poor photo, but proof that I ended the beach gallop with a smile:

Despite the ride being almost an hour late, we were still paraded off the beach and through town by a pipe band. Thankfully, all the trotting I’d been told about had turned into a walk (or jog on Abbie) because of the density of horses. I began to reflect, and this was definitely the ugliest riding I have done in quite some time – bouncing around, and having to give stronger aids to Abbie, who hated both being near the back and behind Marshals, and my needing to adjust her speed often several times mid-canter, rather than just at the beginning. I was however, effective: I remained within my little group at all times, and despite changes in ground and direction, I was able to manually adjust my balance despite uneven stirrups and a weak leg. I am proud that I did everything and did it safely; I am only irked that it required so much concentration that it reduced the joy. However, having had two brilliant Common Rides in a row, I know that this is only a glitch, and it has a clear cause – information that I didn’t have for definite when I’d uneven and long stirrups on my first ever outing. While I will be resting my leg from riding this weekend, I will be getting back to it after that, and getting my own leathers and irons on the go! I also need to start riding big horses in preparation for my riding holiday in early September: most of the show hunters that are there are 17-19hh; I need to get some canter and gallop practice on such big striding horses! lol.

As always, thanks for reading, and apologies for the lack of helmet cam footage. I only remembered about it on the bus; I’m still feeling short-comings in my memory from my concussion. In truth, I wasn’t even close to remembering it: it wasn’t sitting by the front door or anything – I hadn’t even changed the batteries yet from Tuesday. So, fingers crossed that all those people that cheered us on and filmed on phones and tablets, put their videos on YouTube; I’d like to at least see us all fording the river and galloping the beach! :)

My 3rd Common Ride - The Videos & Some Perspective on The Fall

So yesterday I wrote up what I could about my Common Ride on Tuesday. Here’s the video of the main event! (Thankfully I am getting better at making these more concise, and there lots of canters/gallops to only select the best bits from). The fall is not included in this footage.

I have since then watched the unedited video of my fall. I saw part of it by accident when sending the video to two kind friends who offered to vet it for me – fellow bloggers Maddi (http://lifeasmaddi.wordpress.com/) and Marie (http://ridewithnoeyes.com/). The fall itself is inoffensive – it’s just a tumble off the right shoulder approaching a gate. Here’s an edited video the video of the last gallop, including the tumble – all fairly straightforward looking, with the video ending as soon as I hit the ground:

(I also have a private link to the unedited one, if people really want to see it; I just didn’t think it was for general public consumption, so didn’t openly list it on YT).

I am still struggling with how this happened though. I am a decisive rider that steers for gates, rather than just hoping for the best. I did not seem worried either – in the unedited footage, there are no exclamations of “Whoa Frankie!”, “Wait!” or “Move over you stubborn wee b*tch!” before the gate; I clearly have every confidence that we’ll make it as it’s plenty wide, we’re not at a stupid speed, and there’s no one around us to crowd us. Some accounts say that Frankie spooked at the gate; I rather think that maybe she just altered her line through the gate by leaping to her left rather than smoothly moving over, and given I was in the light seat, was particularly susceptible to of coming off her right shoulder. In fact, without the fence post in my way, I’m sure I would have remained conscious and sprung to my feet and out of the way of on-coming riders!

Watching the unedited video also made me realise that I did remember this final gallop after all! I would have sworn blind that it was the first canter after the 2nd break however, rather than the first gallop after the 3rd break. I can recall a stranger telling me before we started that it was a bit uneven at points, and I thanked her for letting me know. I also remember that I started the gallop with Hugo, and I mind moving to the left on the flat section. I also recall moving right onto the uphill which had a bend, and Frankie tripped a little both on the way up, and when we were going downhill towards the gate on the right. In fact, it was the only downhill gradient that I felt a little uncomfortable in all day; Frankie’s tripping, knowing she’d a loose front shoe, and my tired ankle meant that I didn’t enjoy it, but I do remember telling the voice in my head to shut up – I was glued on and all was fine!  I don’t remember what happened from about halfway down that slope to the gate though.

What came as a surprise to me was that my breathing when unconscious and the stillness of the camera were definitely the worst parts of watching the footage back. I got to hear just how many people were involved in speaking to me, calling for help, and steadying up the riders behind me too, which was both touching and concerning – I hate to have been so much trouble, and to have worried so many people.

I also now realise just how patchy my memory was even when I came around. I do remember being asked if the responders could put a mask on my face to help me breathe, but I can’t tell you if they actually did or not. As I said in the last entry, I could tell you that I was asked the day of the week, told them I rarely knew at the best of times, but could then give an answer when asked what Common Ride I was doing which solved the mystery for me. I still don’t know how I don’t recall the person asking being The Doc, a guy I hack out with most weekends – he has such a distinctive deep voice. I also loved hearing in the video that one of the first questions they ask me when I come around to make sure I was compus mentus was who I was riding – I was very quick to say Frankie! Clearly she’s thoroughly unforgettable ;)

I also remember giving my name for their paperwork (“Debra, spelt as in zebra”) but not my address. I don’t remember any of the yard folk being around me, even though Carly asked me who I was riding, and she was the one that picked up and held my hat and camera. It also was either her or the other female groom from my yard that shouted for First Aid, and told the team my name.

I don’t remember the guys saying I needed to move, as I was going to be treated on the field for quite a while, but I remember crawling as I didn’t feel fit to get up and walk. I don’t remember The Doc asking where I would be transferred to, so that he and/or my friend could keep track of me. I remember being told we were going back to town though, and how long it took me to get into the back of the Landy (in a very unladylike fashion) with a completely powerless left leg.

I suppose the video shocked me a bit, because I assumed that once I was conscious again, I was all better; clearly not, as my memory remained patchy. While I remember lots of the conversation I had in the Landy, about my PhD, my allergies, Dad being a paramedic and the like, listening to myself I sound drunk – not as in slurring, but just the level of detail, speed and intonation that often comes along with being merry and casual.

I am happy to report however that my leg is now only about 75% floppy – it is less of  a dead weight now, and the time difference between wriggling my left toes and right toes has decreased (but still exists). I now have an ankle support, as my tired ankle from angled stirrups was not helping, so I feel a bit steadier on my feet. I am definitely moving in the right direction, so am still very hopeful that it will be all systems go on Monday for my ‘home’ Common Ride!

I’d also like to take a minute to say thank feck for the current safety standard of riding helmets. I have a Champion Ventair Jockey Skull – even with all that cushioning, I was (and still am) concussed. I have little doubt that without my hat on tightly, or with my hat in improper repair, I would be looking at long term brain damage right now, if not worse. I always wear my hat, I wear it with pride, and I have never loosened the chin strap to look good, despite peer pressure dictating this to be the rebellious fashion. A body protector would have done nothing for me on this occasion I have to say, but that hat was amazing. Please remember that it is always better to have a helmet on and not need it, than to need it and not have it; mine did its job beautifully this week.

So, all in all, I’m doing well – having no recollection of falling and no longer being weirded out by the video mean that I don’t feel as if my confidence has been dented. This theory will require testing by riding a horse again, but I am very much keen to do that, and am currently not afraid. At least this fall comes with an explanation, and with a safe outcome for me, for Frankie, and for all the other horses and riders in the field. Monday’s Common Ride is like no other anyway – you ride in small groups controlled by a riding Marshal that cannot be over-taken, which will make it feel like a really varied hack with lots of pomp and circumstance. This will also be compounded by the fact that the cantering is mostly on tracks, not stubble fields or pasture. In fact, it sounds like the only gallops are the beach and the race course, whereas most Common Rides are more easily counted by how few times you canter instead of gallop. I should also have Abbie, but I would be more than happy with Frankie either; my bond with her feel only deeper now. I got the measure of her quickly on the ride out, and we got along after only one tantrum – that’s a success in my book!  So, watch this space – hopefully another Common Riding update will be coming along soon :)

Me and Frankie cantering towards the castle:

16/7/13 Common Riding – It’s a Knockout!

Today was the first time that I’ve been able to eat a meal before a Common Ride. Beforehand I have always been so nervous that I’ve lost my appetite. Despite this being the longest and fastest ride I was yet to do, being on Frankie had eased my mind. I love that little mare, quirks and all!

Getting to the lorry park, I saw Frankie’s bum for a long distance away – I’d know it anywhere. She hasn’t done Common Riding the whole time I’ve been at the yard, so I didn’t quite believe she was coming for me until I saw her. She looked sexy too – she was groomed and plaited and looked super smart! I felt a little bit of a scab on top of her despite being in my whites, as I’d a mud stain from Abbie-cuddles on my tie from last time. She also stood still while I mounted – a courtesy not every horse gives a rider when there’s such a buzz in the air.

Before I knew it, The Cornet blew his horn and off we set. We had a warm welcome in the town, and had some beautiful views when crossing the River Tweed, looking onto Hume castle – the home of the Duke and Duchess of Roxburgh. Frankie reminded me of Abbie in that she was powering though the walks and trots to get further up the pecking order – that little old lady can still shift!

I got excited when I saw signs for the race course, and the Official Party changed from their formal berets into their riding helmets. It was indeed a sign of the first canter – a straight, narrow apron on the edge of the course. Frankie went for it and I enjoyed it, but she got a bit nervy towards the end when I started to pull her up but other horses were still galloping up behind and past her. I thought nothing of it, and hoped it would become less of an issue on fast stretches with more space.

The second canter was across a set of sheep fields with an inter-linking gate, and it did not go smoothly. The sheep got away from where they’d been rounded, and started running through the gate we were riding through. We then had to hold up and let them through, and find a marshal’s horse brave enough to round them up. Once we got going again, I could see where we were stopping, and started to bring Frankie down to canter and then trot with 100yards or more to spare. Frankie was furious with me – she was of the opinion that I’d stopped her way too early, and was so full of beans that she tried to buck me off. (She was one buck away from it too, so I thank her for stopping when she did). I then couldn’t get her to go straight ahead – she half-passed in canter to the right and to the left. The movements were beautiful, but they were not scheduled. All I could think was ‘Any other horse, and this kind of behaviour would ruin my nerve. On a pony I know so well, I’m finding this characterful, and it will become funny before I know it!’ It was funny by the time we walked off the field thankfully J

I made a conscious decision to ride Frankie differently at that point though. Abbie will let you decide if you want to start gently decelerating early; Frankie however is living proof of ‘Ask a mare, tell a gelding, negotiate with a stallion, and pray on a pony.’ She is a mardy pony mare after all! I decided that pulling her up when I want to wasn’t going to work: I was going to have to rider her deeper into the canters and gallops, and try using my seat and voice but use very little contact to make my requests. To cut a long story short: it worked! Frankie was never still in gallop on a point where it was dangerously close to any hedges or anyone else, and I didn’t see her argumentative side in the same way again. She did play the Yankie card though – did lots of tugging for the reins. I rode her in walk and trot without a contact as much as I could while still being safe, and when I needed to hold her, I just threw my hands up her neck when she pulled so that she had nothing to tug against. It worked for us, given that her age and being a RS pony mean that I can’t school her or teach her different manners as a client that just rides her sometimes. I worked around her style of going and adjusted to it, rather than trying to become the boss.

There are too many canters to mention and go through, so I’ll just summarise the general feeling and some of the highs and hairy moments.

Frankie was keen as mustard, and went like the dickens for as long as fitness and the humidity would allow. I felt so secure on her – she is absolutely the horse I feel safest on in this entire world. I was struggling with my left ankle at one point though – with two twists in my left stirrup level, my stirrup iron was not sitting level. This meant that my ankle was angled, and there was one long canter (a few fields joined together) where if the canter hadn’t ended when it did, I’d have to have stopped rather than let my ankle cave and me fall. I had to turn my stirrup around 180 and then ride with my angle, now wobbling outwards rather than inwards. That did not feel pleasant either, but at least my ankle didn’t feel like it was going to give-way mid-canter. Thankfully, whatever I did on the first break helped to flatten out the iron, so my ankle was more straight up-and-down. The damage was done though – when I put my feet back in my stirrups again, my ankle was trembling from being tired. On any other horse, I think I would have been much more concerned.

There were some glorious field canters after the first break – some lovely long stretches where I could and did open Frankie up, and I felt like I was flying. There was even hill that we cantered down – I never once felt nervous, and my friend even noticed that I kicked on for it, as Frankie was slow to transition up. I even shouted to myself “I’m cantering down a hill!” I can’t tell you how good that felt to enjoy rather than hate it!

I did have a few issues on occasion though. On the apron of one stubble field, it was double file only, and someone was trying to over-take a pair of us. My little cob was jostling around to find space, and it was not very comfortable at that speed. On another narrow lane later on, I was on the imprinted vehicle tracks on the right hand side. Despite being on the right edge of the path, a TB overtook me on my right. It ran onto the uneven verge and bumped its way past, with no room for Frankie & I to move left due to the people around me. The guy apologised twice and all was fine, but again, it was an unsettling feeling at that speed. Apart from those hairy moments though, the canters and gallops were all a joy J

The breaks were also really good on this ride: we had 3 full ones, and not only did I get drinks, but at the last stop I got free vanilla ice cream with strawberry sauce, and the doctor I ride with even came back with cake at the 2^nd break! I even got off Frankie at the second one, happy that I could remount again, and thinking it would be kinder to my sweet old girl to give her back a rest. I was a bit naughty though: despite the 200 or so horses there, a family came up and asked to pat my little pony. They wanted their daughter to sit up with me for a photo, but I didn’t have a hand free as I was holding Hugo for the doc in my left hand, and my can of pop in the right. When he came back, I hopped off and mum put the little girl on. Frankie was on lookout, so stood still with her ears pricked – I was able to put her reins over her head, walk forward to get out of the pic, and she didn’t walk with me. The family got their pic, and I got a telling off from the yard folk that it wasn’t allowed. If I had my brain engaged I would have worked it out beforehand, but no harm no foul, and I won’t do it again. The wee girl was game once she got up though – she was mad dying to get up on Hugo, and kept asking after him. Atta girl! Not so sure mum’s going to be so pleased with that photo when she realises that it gave her tot the horse riding bug… ;)

Back out and about, Frankie remained glorious, and I was pleasantly surprised at her endurance. She never ever lost her keenness to canter, even when she did lose some speed. She even found the energy to do some more dancing, snorting and moving sideways with me! We’d gone diagonally instead of straight over a field, so had to double-back to the gate for the next gallop. There were horses on the other side already galloping just metres away though, so Frankel cob couldn’t work out why we were going in the opposite direction at a walk. Luckily there was no broncking this time, and I got her to the gate in a sort of passage.

Despite all the beautiful scenery, the enjoyable canters/gallops, and genuinely loving my little Turbo Cob, the ride did end on a bit of a downer. I would like to say up front that I am okay – just a headache and a weak leg, both thought to be temporary. I did have a fall bad enough to stop the whole Common Ride until I could be moved though… and I don’t remember a bloody thing!

I remember leaving our last break point – I had two scoops of ice cream and two juices. I was told there was one canter left, then we’d be back in town for the parade behind the pipe band. I must have seen the canter coming, because I turned my helmet cam on to record. The next thing I remember is crawling on the ground: with hindsight, I presume the medics had to move me out of the way of the gate to let the ride though, and I started moving when they mentioned a spinal board if I couldn’t. I remember being asked the day of the week, telling the man that I’m not good at that question at the best of times, but he was happy that I could tell him my name and that I was riding on Kelso Tuesday. I had a pulse-on metre on my finger, and was helped into the back of the emergency service Landrover. I was fine from then on – weakness in my left leg, which I partly wondered if it was my ankle being tired from earlier, but that was it pretty much. I clearly slammed my lower back into something, and I could feel the bruising and scrapes already. The guys also told me what happened; there are a few different witness reports, but by all accounts I had an issue with the gate and made friends with a gate-post, with it knocking me out in the process.

One of my first questions was to the guys was “Is my pony Frankie okay?” The guys told me she was caught, uninjured, and had been lead back to the lorry by one of the grooms who was doing the ride with me. I then asked if the rest of the ride was okay; one of the problems with people falling is that there can be a chain reaction – people try to avoid you and come off, or horses slam the breaks on and un-seat people. The doc was on Hugo, and this was the only point that Hugo wasn’t keen to move forwards all day – he seemed to know that something had happened and he didn’t want to get closer to it. Thankfully no one else had come off, and everyone made it safely through the gate. I was so relieved!

The Landy drove behind the horses, and the medics quickly reminded me that I had actually completed the whole ride route – I had just changed my four points of contacts with the earth from hooves to wheels for the return to the town and the boxes. I got back to the lorry delighted to see Frankie look glorious and blemish-free. I also got talking to my friends and yard-mates who were near me at the time I fell off. While I had assumed I had fallen at the first gate to begin the last gallop in all the excitement, I had actually done all the canter work and fell at the last gate. GRR! I am chuffed that I never missed a canter though :D I also heard that it looked like Frankie spooked and shied at something, caught me totally off my guard, and I came off at an awkward angle into the post: I still have no memory of that. I also found out that the man asking me my name and days of the week was not one of the emergency paramedic team, but was the doctor I rode with. I also have lots of footage of one of the grooms going ‘How do you turn this bloody camera off?!’ There were 3 medics too, so I must have had quite a crowd around me! I was well enough to joke at this point, telling the YO that I was chauffeured back to the lorry as I’m a special treatment kind of gal ;) lol. The doc also gave me a lift from the lorry to my friend’s car as I was wobbly on my weak leg, and my friend saw me all the way up to my top-floor flat to make sure I was safe.

So, right now I have a dull but constant head-ache from the concussion, and I don’t have full power in my left leg. The doc thinks it might not be the concussion causing the weakness, but that my lower back has swollen where I slammed the ground, so full sensation and power should return when that does down. (It’s like my left leg is on a delay – I tell my brain to move my toes, and it takes a second longer than on my right foot). Rest assured, I am taking paracetamol and will get myself looked about if the leg symptoms continue into tomorrow; my OH is even working at home today just so that I’m not alone with a head injury. I mean, I have to be fit to Common Ride on Monday; its sort of my ‘local’ town, so will be like a home fixture! So, lots of healing vibes for me please if you can spare them J Thanks for reading as always!