polly.bryan@futurenet.com
@pollyrose21
OPINION
ONCE upon a time, I was 17, preoccupied with improving my riding style, knowledge and results, and impressing the great and good.
Now at 71, I still worry about the same things. My shoulders are rounder but my awareness is better and I don't so much care what others think.
Riding into old age, fighting those creaky joints, is hard. It can be terrifying too… will I sit that buck? Yet when people ask me why I'm still riding, my reply is that I love it. I love riding even more than I hate sofas, beds and doctors, especially the one who offered me a blue disabled badge.
My head still remembers how to gallop, jump, show off and win; anyway, I've always been spurred on by…
