I slip my feet out of the stirrups, swing my leg over and slide off. The barn smells of the trademark signs of all things horse. It is a familiar smell for me. A good smell. One that transports me back to my childhood. Of running through fields on horseback, adventures in the woods, staring at the stars while lying on the freshly cut lawn of summer.
We walk out of the riding ring. It is my mentor and me.
"I know that I shy away from staying tight to the outside corner of the ring," I say....
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