Lauren Sprieser

The first handful of days in Florida are always a little crazy. It's runs to the store because you've forgotten to pack a grain scoop, white board markers and work gloves. It's figuring out which wash stall has the best hose nozzles and the best configuration for your stuff on the shelves of the tack room. And then it's horses that vacillate from nutcase to dog tired in no time flat. 

"Auld Lang Syne" is Scots, translating loosely to "days gone by." I don't know how one says "good riddance" in Scots, so auld lang syne will have to do. 

In the last year—really, the last 18 months—I've faced some challenges, personally, professionally, on and off the horse. But no more. I'm determined to make 2012 the best year of my life, and even better, even if I fall short of every goal I set, I'm way better equipped to deal with that possibility.

The first seven hours of my drive to Florida were great. I got up early, drove the truck and trailer, fully loaded, to the Warrenton, Va., indoor aquatic center so I could get in a swim, and hit the road. No traffic. No accidents. No explodey tires (though I had both a lug nut wrench and a Trailer Aid, plus I got a year's subscription to USRider for Christmas, so I was feeling pretty good about being prepared for such things).

Every trainer has their soundbites, their one-, or two-, or three-liners about training, about how to think about an element of riding or an exercise. Some of our lines are borrowed from the trainers who made us; some we come up with on our own.

One of my students suggested I assemble a book of "Laurenisms." I don't think there are quite enough for a book, but there are certainly enough for a blog post. So here's an abbreviated list of Laurenisms, some of my own mind, some stolen (and credited when I can), all regular fixtures in my lessons. 

On Thursday nights, dinner comes out of my microwave. I don't really have time to cook anything, because at 6 p.m., my evening starts with Heather. Sometimes Heather can make it home from work in time to get her horse to bring him over—she works only about 20 minutes away from my place, but she has to head home (25 miles), grab Bodie, and come here (30 miles), and sometimes that doesn't all happen by 6. So sometimes her husband, who also works full time, brings Bodie over, and Heather comes straight from work to meet him. 

It's (finally) official—I hit the road on Dec. 26 for Florida, with the horses right behind me, departing on the 27th or 28th. That's 11 days from now.

#$&^!

Last winter in Florida, I read a couple of Temple Grandin's books. Ms. Grandin is, among other things, a renowned animal behaviorist, and it was in one of those books that I first learned of the concept of "frustration tolerance." 

Mondays are (sometimes) My Day, where I (sometimes) have nothing to do but cross things off my to-do list and get ready for the week.

Day 2 of our Michael Barisone clinic went just as well as Day 1. Both of the Red Hots were a little tired; for Ella, this was a hindrance (though not much of one), and for Midge, it was a much-appreciated reprieve from the temporary psychosis under which he's been suffering for the last week. 

It's education-palooza for me this month apparently. Lucky me! Michael dropped in for a clinic this weekend, and both Ella and Midge worked really well.