Applied Physics: Newton's 2nd Law of Motion

The relationship between an object’s mass, its acceleration and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.

Physics is definitely not my subject, but the horses seem bound and determine to further my education, even if we’re going about it in reverse order.  We learned about Newton’s 3^rd law back in May.  (Read it Here)  This week’s lesson, Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion.

I find the Second Law of Motion a little more complicated.  After all, it involves math.  That’s probably why Nutmeg needed to illustrate it not once, but twice this week.  For the first time since moving the horses home, I got to ride in my future arena, aka “the grass patch.”  Early in the year, I mowed the grass in approximately the location and dimensions of the grand prix jumping arena we will someday install (ha).  Admiral tested it out first with a very easy walk/trot day.  The ground was still a little wet and we were occasionally tearing up the grass, so we played it safe.  We’re also both embarrassingly out of shape so that helped dictate our regimen as well.  Fitness and activity levels aside, we determined the grass patch will make a fine arena and it was great to be riding in circles at home.

Nutmeg was thrilled with the footing the following day and that’s where Newton’s 2^nd Law comes into play.  The relationship between an object’s mass (Nutmeg’s mass = a lot, her weight is 1280 lbs.), its acceleration (halt=0 mph, walk = 4.5 mph, trot = 12 to 15 mph, canter = 20-25, buck = who knows… but you get the idea) and the applied force is force equals mass times acceleration.  So, we’ve got the mass of a very big horse times the acceleration of a very big horse who hasn’t been out on good footing in ages.  Let me tell you, the force is great, so great, the ground was flashing before my eyes and I was praying I stayed in the saddle.  The really great thing about force is that it can be applied in any direction, forward, backward, up, down, diagonal.  Nutmeg made sure I remembered that concept as well with a series of rodeo bronc bucks that rivaled her younger days.  I guess the two trips to the chiropractor have her feeling young and frisky.

Lesson two for Newton’s 2^nd Law came a few nights later.  We spent a large portion of the day preparing for the impending rain.  We hauled and spread gravel on my path up to the pasture to prevent the mud slip-in-slide adventures of the last rain fall.  Then we dug out under the pasture gate and filled in with gravel.  Yes, I’m seriously spoiled by my husband.  That night, as I was bringing the horses and pony inside, Newton’s 2^nd Law got some practical application.  In the very dark, dark a hoof collided with my ankle bone.  The force at which it impacted was great, but I wasn’t sure who to blame.  Remembering Nutmeg’s lesson earlier in the week I did a little math.  A large amount of force would be the product of either large mass and little acceleration or little mass and fast acceleration.  Admiral was ruled out because he wasn’t close enough to inflict damage.  Vaughn weighs all of 500 lbs when wet.  We were walking.  Acceleration was nil.  Big foot’s to blame.  Big surprise.

So, lesson noted.  Physics is very much an applied science.  Sometimes it’s applied to your rear; sometimes to your ankle and sometimes it allows you to soar over cross country fences.  I guess Newton’s 2^nd Law of Motion isn’t all bad.  That’s your Fresh Perspective on Newton’s 2^nd Law. 

Live Now!

Through work, I was recently exposed to the book The Rules of Life by Richard Templar.  I love rules, just ask my husband, so I knew immediately that this book was going on my reading list.  I’m not finished yet.  In fact, I’ve hardly started.  Okay, truth be told, I haven’t even bought it yet.   (Hint, Hint for Christmas) Just the titles of the chapters have me enthralled though since I keep seeing their applications to horseback riding.

Take, for example, Rule (chapter) 19.  “Don’t Dwell on the Past.”  Sure, we’ve heard that before, but have you ever applied it to your riding?  Admiral is a spooky boy.  If he’s nervous he spooks.  Board, he spooks.  If he is fit he spooks; feeling lazy he spooks.  You get the idea.  And, his spooks aren’t just a splay legged stop either.  Generally, he drops and does a one-eighty that puts many reining horses to shame.  It’s definitely “un-seat-eling” even if you’re ready for it.  With this in mind, I find myself dwelling on the last trip around the arena, preparing for the spook at the white roll top or the bushy tree.  The problem is, I’m not actually riding the horse under me.  I’m riding the horse that was under me two minutes or thirty seconds ago.  The only way to be an effective rider is to ride in the here and now.  Feel what’s under you.  Influence what you are riding now.

There’s more to Rule 19.  Templar writes, “ Whatever the past was, it’s gone.  There is nothing you can do to change anything that has gone before, and so you must turn your attention to the here and now…Live here.  Live now.  Live in this moment.”  I struggle with this.  I’d never really thought of it as a detriment to my riding that I compare horses to each other.  I was lucky enough to have two really awesome mares when I was younger.  They are the measuring stick I hold every other horse against and that’s not fair.  It’s also not fun.  What made those horses so great was the journey I made with them.  It wasn’t the end accomplishments, it was the time spent in and out of the saddle.  By comparing my current horses and by always striving to get back to where I left off, I’m robbing myself of the journey. 

Rule 20 fits right in as well.  “Don’t Live in the Future.”  Basically the message is, if you’re constantly driving for the future, you’re never satisfied, EVER.  The future never gets here.  It’s a message that is twofold.  If you’re a dreamer like I am, your thoughts are always on the next big thing.  You want to make things better, be a little richer, jump a little bigger, show a little more often, have a nicer home/barn.  Whatever the dream is, it consumes us.  Our current situation, horse, job, house, whatever, is compared to the dream.  Templar writes, “The key is to appreciate what we’ve got right now and yet still dream and plan.  That way we’ll be a little happier now than if we were constantly looking to the future, where happiness apparently lies.”  Remember, the future never gets here.  You better learn to be happy in the present if you ever hope to be happy.

The other part of “Don’t Live in the Future” deals with worry.  If you’re dwelling on the future, good or bad, you’re robbing yourself of the moment you are living.  Horses are great at creating worry.  We worry about possible lameness, about the right kind of feed, about finding a good vet and farrier, about them being too cold or too hot.  We also worry about the spook waiting for us on our next ride or stride for that matter.  We count the days, weeks, months, or if you’re lucky years, since our last fall and worry about how much the next one will hurt.  We’re only getting older after all.  I hate to admit it, but we worry about what others will think as well.  Templar writes, “Every time we worry about something in the future, we rob ourselves of living in the moment.  We lose a day that could have been spent enjoying life.  The bad things we worry about may never happen, but the days we spend worrying about them can never be returned to us.”  Sounds like pretty good advice to me.

Whether you’re striving to improve your riding or just trying to find a bit of contentment in life, try this perspective.  Live in the moment.  Learn from your past, plan for the future, but live right now.  Appreciate where you are.  Soak in the sights, smells, and sounds.  Enjoy the journey.  Clear your mind of clutter.  Focus on now, it’s pretty amazing.

Home is Where the Heart Is?

Sure, it’s cliché, but don’t blog post titles generally fall into that category?  That aside, I believe there are more “H’s” than just Heart that make up a Home.

In 2010, I got married.  Home was suddenly not where I grew up, but where my husband was.  For several months that meant “home” was a camping trailer parked in our future house.  It made for interesting challenges like cooking meals in either a microwave or on the stove top, doing dishes with the garden hose and surviving a Missouri fall with no heat.  As newly-weds we made it work and celebrated having each other.  For those few months, the camper was home.

While we were living in the camper we were building on our house.  It defiantly hadn’t taken on the characteristics of a home yet.  We put in drywall, painted like crazy, laid flooring, and finally got heat.  We gave up the camper and moved into the far from finished house, celebrating each other, real walls and heat.  With a bed on the floor, we were home.

After ba-hum-bugging all things Christmas, my husband surprised me with Christmas lights and a Christmas tree.  Some might see it as a silly gesture or a waste of cash, but to me it brought hope.  We might be roughing it, still waiting for a kitchen sink, and working our butts off, but we had each other, walls and a roof over our heads.  We had heat to keep us warm and could look forward to a future full of family gatherings and holiday celebrations.  It really felt like home, construction dust and all.

I’ll be the first to admit that as things progress on the house, it gets harder and harder to keep pressing forward.  So what if the trim isn’t done and the closet still needs shelves.  We’re happy.  There’s a house to return to each night, a husband waiting, heat to keep the whistling wind at bay and hope for the future.  We’re really enjoying life.  It makes it that much harder to keep building and working.  We’d love to just stand back and say, “Look at how far we’ve come,” but we’re not done yet.  Even though we're happy, no one else would see it as a home.

In case you missed me proclaiming the news from the roof top (walk-way) via facebook, the horses got to come home on Thanksgiving.  A year, almost to the day, after we moved into the house, the horses got to join us.  I get to kiss three furry muzzles goodnight and I’m greeted by whickers in the morning.  Sure, for now it means early mornings, scooping poop by flashlight, and absolutely no life, but they are here, a goal I’ve had for years.  The horses are home.

A husband, a house, heat, hope, happiness and horses.  Sounds like a home to me, but the final piece fell into place Thanksgiving.  Hospitality.  We had the privilege of having both sets of parents, some grandparents, siblings, and aunts over for Thanksgiving.  With a table full of twelve, a kitchen full of smells, and a barn full of horses our house was christened as our home.  For once people came to us, instead of us traveling to them.  Our family came to our home. 

So, Home isn’t just where the Heart is.  Or is it?  Home has many components and they vary from person to person.  Some want a place they can decorate.  Some want a place to have kids.  Some look forward to being able to dance in their underwear and some just want a place to feel secure.  Whatever it is that makes your home, remember if you look deep enough you’ll find your heart as well.  That’s my Fresh Perspective on Home.  Enjoy yours this Holiday Season.

Goose Bumps

Buuurrrr.  Fall temperatures finally got here after teasing us with amazingly warm weather for the past few months.   I’m suddenly adding extra layers and blanketing the dog before she goes outside.  I’m also in a near constant state of goose bumps, but they don’t derive solely from the colder weather.

About this time last year we moved into the house from the camper.  The floors weren’t done.  The sinks didn’t work.  Heck, we didn’t even have counters, but there was heat and that was a lot to be thankful for.  Now the floors are done, the sinks are in, most of the trim is up and we’re getting ready to host our first Thanksgiving.  I’ve never been much of a hostess.  In fact, right now I’m trying to decide where to stash the random construction supplies instead of making seating cards or folding napkins (or sweeping…).  I refuse to stress out.  It won’t be a Hallmark card, but our families will be together.  The light fixtures might be covered in drywall dust, but the warm glow will come from our hearts.  We have much to be thankful for so, rough edges aside, I’ve got goosebumps anticipating the festivities.

The horses are also scheduled to come home this week.  We hoped to bring them up over the weekend, but like anything dealing with construction or horses, the schedule gets shifted.  The list of “Must do’s” is getting smaller.  The list of “Melinda would really like done” is getting longer, but we should have one paddock and three stalls habitable before Thanksgiving.  It’s not going to be the perfect homecoming I always envisioned with sparkling stalls and landscaped walk ways, but we've worked hard to make a horse friendly home.  To borrow the cliche, the dark always comes before the dawn. The thought of good-night muzzle nudges counters the dread of four o’clock mornings in the frigid winter without lights and gives me happy (mostly) goose bumps.

Work at the radio station gets a little lot crazy this time of year.  The holiday open houses, the Christmas advertisements, the special holiday programs, Christmas greetings, and Christmas carols all make life interesting.  But they also bring a special anticipation, an air of excitement, and of course, little pimples of skin all over my body. 

My husband and I are getting ready to spend our second Christmas as husband and wife.  We get to decorate the tree, make cookies, and spread the cheer as man and wife and that gives me goose bumps.

So this Thanksgiving week, each time your skin does its best to mimic the Thanksgiving bird of choice, try to come up with something that gives you good goosebumps and have a fresh perspective on the changing weather and the skin prickling it produces. 

Back Seat Driving

With one horse down for the count, I’ve had a little time to ponder.  My conclusion is far from a peer reviewed, scientifically proven thesis, but I’ll lay it out there anyway.  Ready?  My conclusion: Back Seat Driving is the bomb!

Husbands and wives are cringing, but hear me out.  It all started with a problem.  A friend’s talented little horse was jumping like a champ with his front end, and doing who knows what with his rear.  Routinely his antics left me close to tears, laughing as his rider clung on for dear life.  Apparently, I’m not the most sympathetic comrade.  Humor aside, it was time to figure out what was going on or give up on this case. 

I never “give-up” and rarely concede, so instead of karaoke in the car, I started mulling over the pieces of the puzzle.

It took me longer than I care to admit to decipher that the little guy was jumping by pushing off his front legs instead of rocking back on his haunches.  He’d canter up to a fence, stab his front feet in the ground and then pop over in a bit of a surprise.  While occasionally cute and routinely humorous, it was neither correct nor efficient. 

A horse jumps from their hind legs.  Think about their anatomy.  The front legs are built for swinging forward propulsion, but the real power is in the spring like hind end.  You probably can’t bounce very well on your finger tips (even if you were super strong), but standing on the balls of your feet, you can bounce and even jump quite well.  Horse’s carry 60% of their weight on their front legs naturally, then we add a rider.  It works pretty well if you’re just cruising down the trail or around the arena, but if you need to lift the front end much, something has to change.

Most horses out in a field will naturally change their balance from front to back and back to the front again as the need arises and if you watch a horse jump well (really jump, not just canter over something), you’ll see them lift their forehand and spring from their back legs.  This is an exaggeration, but you’ll see what I mean.

Did you notice how little weight the horse had on its front legs right before the last jump.  Watch it again.  The front legs do nearly nothing.  They basically are just waiting for the hind legs to thrust them up into the air.  So, what does this mean?  We’ve got to think about the back seat.

I’ve had it drilled into my head, “Ride from back to front, leg to hand.”  Sure, I’ve got it.  You’ve got to have “go” before you can have direction or set the tempo.  But it means more than that.  We need to ride the hind legs, not the front.  That’s hard!  After all, we’re sitting much closer to the front end.  Most of us were taught to “steer” like we drive a car, turn the wheel and the front tires or front legs will go in the direction you want.  But what about the back seat?  Sure, it’s going to come along because it’s attached, but if you’ve driven a trailer or ridden a crooked horse, you know the hind doesn’t always follow the front precisely. 

When I’m driving a trailer, I pay more attention to where the trailer is than I do to the truck (maybe not the best plan, but it has yet to get me in trouble).  Wouldn’t it be great if I could start riding horses that way?  It’s a radical change.  You no longer post with the outside front leg, but with the inside hind.  You no longer turn with your reins, but with your seat and legs.  You know longer make a downward transition by slowing down the front end, but by riding the hind legs (I know, I know, Carlie, you’ve been telling me this for years!)  Sure, that awesome lifting feeling at the withers is nice, but it’s the power from the hind legs stepping farther under that’s more important and it’s from the power of the hind legs that you get the lifting in front.  Finally, the take-off point at a jump is not where your horse’s front legs get to the jump, but how, when and where their butt gets there.  Try counting your strides by the pushing off of the hind legs instead of when the front legs land or the flight stage of the canter.  It will blow your mind. 

So there it is, my fresh perspective on riding.  Hide Sight is 20/20.  Back seat driving is the bomb, but you’ll probably need a good friend/helper to get there.

Autumn Ambivalence Be Gone!

We’re back!!!  I counted it up in my record book.  It’s been 94 days since I was able to ride both Admiral and Nutmeg.  The ironic part, I really didn’t want to go to the barn last night.

We have had an amazing run of nice weather this fall.  80’s and sunshine every day for weeks on end.  While other parts of the country have been suffering from droughts or monsoons, we’ve been soaking up the incredible weather, knowing that sooner rather than later, winter would arrive.  Well, it showed up on Monday.  Rain and 50.  We’re expecting the first freeze tonight with temperatures in the 40’s for the rest of the week.  Naturally, when I want nothing more than to cuddle up with a blanket and a cup of tomato soup, both horses are finally ready to go back to work.

One thing or another went wrong this summer.  Admiral rolled on a boulder rock pebble and was out with an impressive bump on his back for months.  Nutmeg threw a shoe, then threw a fit the day her shoe was back on, leading to a month of stiff sore muscles and liniment rubs.  Friends got married, fencing started and stopped about ten times, stalls needed to be built and money ran out.  Riding just wasn’t at the top of the priority list. 

I never thought I could survive without my equine therapists, but I was actually getting used to coming home to my husband every night and skipping the five hour venture to the barn and back.  Sure, when it was sunny and warm I looked longingly out the window and dreamed, but the nasty rain did nothing to entice me to the barn.  Even the thought of getting to finally use Nutmeg’s new dressage bridle (a birthday present in August) had lost its luster.  Autumn ambivalence had set in, full force.

But I had to go to the barn.  Really, I had to go to the barn.  The poor ponies’ blankets were in the back of my car, laundered and smelling fresh less like manure, and they needed them ASAP.  Plus, I promised a friend I’d drop her new round of Smart Paks off while she was on vacation.  With less than adequate clothing, to the barn I went.

Thank goodness for indoor arenas!  That is one thing I will definitely miss when the horses come home.  I didn’t die of hypothermia.  I didn’t have to cut my ride time short due to the dwindling light.  And, I got to ride BOTH horses!!!  They were both sound, they were both happy to see me, and they were both fairly well behaved.  I dropped off the blankets and headed home with a feeling of contentment I haven’t had in a while.  You can’t really put it in words.  Let’s just say, I’m glad I went to the barn after all.  It may not be what I want to do at the time, but riding always helps and leaves me with a fresh perspective.

A Happily Ever Nightmare

It’s every horse owner’s greatest fear.  During your morning check you discover your horse is missing.  No fence down, no gates open, just a missing horse.  All the thoughts that race through your head are bad, just to varying degrees.  It’s a nightmare.

For a horse owner in Mid-Missouri Saturday morning, the nightmare became a reality.  Their palomino gelding was missing.  His heard-mates were unconcerned, but he was definitely gone.  They spent two hours combing the pasture and turned up nothing.  So they called their local radio station.  I took the call.

“I was wondering if you could get something on the air for me?”

We get these calls all the time and, if I can say so myself, we have a pretty good system for dealing with them.  “I’ve got something for sale,” gets pointed to the Swap Shop program or a Sales Rep.  “My dog or cat is missing (we’ve even had a bird),” we take their information and put it on the daily Pet Patrol.  Birthday wishes, Community events, and meeting cancellations, there is a time and a place for that information every day.  But what do you do when someone tells you there 1200 lb. animal is loose somewhere near town?

My heart stopped and simultaneously went out to the couple.  Decision time.  A horse is not your average missing pet.  It’s a safety hazard.  “Of course I’ll get it on the air for you.  Can you tell me a bit more…”

So the horse’s description and last know location went out to all our Saturday morning listeners.  I gave the information twice in a twenty minute time period.  The phone rang again.

“We found him!  Well, they found him.  They’ve got him in the arena up at the fairgrounds.  Thank you so much!”

That palomino gelding had traveled over five miles and crossed a US Highway.  Thankfully there was a big event taking place at the fairgrounds over the weekend and someone recognized the horse from the description they heard on the radio.  I received a third call from the owners later in the morning, thanking me again and blessing the effectiveness of broadcast radio.

It was a wonderful end to a horrific circumstance.  Thank goodness for quick thinking people,  thank goodness for watchful neighbors and yee-haw for local radio with real people on the other side of the mic 24/7.   Next time you turn on Pandora or Satellite radio, remember “radio” is more than entertainment, it’s a service to the community.  How’s that for a Fresh Perspective.