Today was definitely a Super Sunday, although not for the reason that gets way too much attention in the media. It was one of those days that had me spontaneously yelling "I love my horse!". I almost used that phrase for today's title, but I've already used it once. Actually, I thought I'd also used Super Sunday at about this time in some previous year, but a search proved me wrong. So we'll run with that one.

Super Sunday, of course, is an irresistible self-righteous reference to the fact that I was out having real fun while millions of less-enlightened folks were wasting their minds and bodies watching the ridiculous climax of a sport which combines two of the worst facets of American culture: violence and committee meetings. Actually, my superior attitude would be a little bit of a stretch, because by the time the game started, I was out of the saddle and standing around eating and drinking with friends, much like millions of jock-watching couch potatoes around the country. At least I was in an outdoor ambience far more preferable than the average Super Bowl party. As one of the Bitch Pack repeated several times, we were "in a happy place."

After a long wet January, which provided only one opportunity for equestrian exuberance, the first week of February has been good. Well, actually, Wednesday was marginal, but better than being at work. Today was good. We had what one of the BP would call a "stellar field", plenty of liquid courage, and some pretty good riding. I'm not sure exactly what, if anything, we were ever chasing, but sometimes it just doesn't matter.

Like any other addiction, I suppose you really have to experience it to understand it. As I look over some of these reports, a lot of them start to sound the same. It's tough to really capture the feel of the day in words that would convince a non-believer.

I guess I should at least explain the spontaneous vocal outburst that I mentioned above. Arthur had been performing beautifully all day (well .. most jumps were beautiful, with just a couple of "we got over and I stayed on, that's what counts"). We had just nicely cleared a stone wall that's one of our trickier jumps. It's not huge, but it's a tight approach with a slight drop on the landing. And after the wall, there's little or no opportunity for regaining control before the ditch that was my undoing a few years ago. The two people in front of me cleared the ditch so close together that their stirrups clinked. As Arthur and I sailed over it and caught up with the others, I just couldn't help saying "I love my horse!" Today was definitely a Super Sunday.