Paradigm Shift, Step One

June, 2011. Horses at pasture: (left to right) Janet, Stella, Millie, and Lucy.

We have been undergoing a paradigm shift this summer in the way we view nutrition on the farm. It started back in June shortly after we put the non-gaited paint horses up for sale. Just two or three weeks earlier I had added two nutritional supplements to my daily diet with no adverse health effects. After taking in the lowest recommended dose on a daily basis, I had yet to notice results, not that I had expected to notice any. While I was intrigued by the impressive claims the product maker made for its products, I did not just roll off the turnip truck yesterday and am well acquainted with the ploys of hype and even direct falsification that plague advertisers today. As such, I was trying the supplements but my hopes for them were tempered by my more-than-healthy skepticism. Then Miss Lissamy Lucy intervened.

Forgive me, but to tell this right, I need to backtrack a couple of years. In a post titled Falling, I chronicled my unsuccessful adventure in horseback riding with Millie. The short version is: I tried riding, I got thrown (or chose to fall before being thrown), then I hurt for a couple of weeks. As I remember it now, I'd swear it took three weeks before all the aches and pains, bumps and bruises from that afternoon's single fall stopped plaguing me entirely. I still recall the nights of trying to get comfortable and waking when I turned over, and days where just catching my breath made my ribs ache. (The post reveals that distance may have magnified the event in my recall--or that pride kept me from fully reporting on the discomfort in the post.) Whatever the truth of the matter is, or was, I do know that the one fall that afternoon caused me considerable grief for many days to come. Anyway, with lesson learned and life being busily lived, I had not remounted any of our horses since then until one fateful afternoon.

We had finally decided that the horses had to go. At least the quarter horses, to start, would need to move on. Keeping them as pasture ornamentation is expensive since our acres are mostly wooded and they graze down what pasture we have more quickly than it can regrow. After posting an ad for Lucy and Janet, our red-and-white paint mare and her two-year-old filly, I got the bright idea to give Lucy some time under saddle before introducing her to potential buyers. That Saturday afternoon, she was calm and gentle as I saddled her up, familiar with the procedure even though she had not experienced it for a long two years. Although I considered doing some groundwork with her before mounting, I felt pressed for time and did not think it was all that necessary. Maybe prudent, but I chose to forgo it. After all, I had never ridden a horse that had been out to pasture with her herd for so long, and I "reasoned" that when I had first met and tried Lucy, she had already been out to pasture with a herd for some weeks, and had been a perfect lady then. Bad choice on my part.

When I went to mount, she stood like a lady until my toe nudged her in the side. Leg not entirely over her back, I had no chance and went flying the moment she exploded out from under me. Since I had been trying to mount with the assistance of a rock pile, that's where I landed--that first time--back on the rock pile. After just a few bronc-like bucks, Lucy settled down and agreed to be caught. A bit more cautious, I went to the house for help. I thought if our Operations Manager could just hold the mare's head while I bumbled onto her back, all would be well. Wrong. I will spare you the blow-by-blow description. Suffice to say, I managed to get thrown thrice that afternoon before having the good sense to hang up the saddle. We humans recalled my experience with Millie (see Falling) and agreed that, while I was moving fine just then, I would pay dearly for my indiscretions by the morning. Lucy, unsaddled and cooled out, was turned back out with her herd. I finished the farm chores for the day, and sent up a prayer of thanks for a learning experience gained without serious injury. Amazingly, I wasn't even sore at that point, but I knew that time and rest would rectify that situation.

Okay, so I had stopped counting by that point, but again I was wrong. Night passed with nary a twinge. Morning dawned and I felt amazingly well. Indeed, days passed with no physical evidence of my adventures. Finally on Friday, after steeping out of the shower, I saw a colorful bruise on one "cheek" in the mirror. I poked and prodded and found the spot was tender. But that was it.

Now, I have not gotten any younger over the past two years. I'm over fifty and at that time my body was happy to remind me of my age, frequently. Why, then, had I been able to get thrown off of a horse not once, not twice, but three times in a single day without paying with physical pain? We talked it over and the only difference we could discern was the addition of those two nutritional supplements mentioned at the beginning of this post. I went back to their literature and found claims about ease of movement and reversal of aging. Thinking about it, I could remember a time in my youth when I rode daily and suffered the occasional barn injury with no complaint. Without further hesitation, I contacted the company, reordered the supplements for another month, put my order on auto-ship, and signed up for a business site with them. I was not ready to "sell" the products, but I was eager to share my story with a few friends and figured that I might as well enjoy the benefits of referring possible sales in the event anyone I knew opted to try the products. The company is Emerald Express and their products are Emerald Sea--an encapsulated blend of organic sea vegetables, and Action Whey--a whey protein powder made from the raw A2 milk of organic, grass-fed cows.

I invite readers to research the products. (Here's a link to a YouTube video overview.) Stay tuned as I continue to ramble about our household's paradigm shift on nutrition. As stated above, this experience merely nudged us onto this journey; these products represent but step one for us.