Three takeaways from my experience attempting to learn to ride bulls.
As I have thought more about last weekend’s adventure bull riding, I’d like to unpack a couple of the observations I shared earlier.
Be ready. Don’t let go. Travel with your posse.
“When the gate opens it is too late to train or even think. Muscle memory takes over.”
We had spent time with the instructor, learned about body position, strategy, where to look, how to dismount, what to do after you dismount etc. We had practiced our form on two different trainers. And while I had done okay for a novice on the bucking barrel, when I climbed into that chute on top of “420” (yes he was named 420, clearly a reference to a substance that many would advocate would have aided in my recovery!) and started wrapping that rope around my hand, it was a whole different story. Now was not the time to ask questions or practice. It was time to do. And when that gate opened, it felt like everything I had been taught deserted me harder than common sense in a lovestruck teenager. In fact, the gate opened and what felt like less than a second later, I was getting up trying to get to the fence. The muscle memory had not yet had time to take root. By the sixth ride, the muscle memory was forming (along with the swelling and muscle soreness 😁).
The more I have thought about this, the more profound it is to me – and the more compelling it is to act on. In essence, it is too late once the crisis arrives to start doing research and figuring it out. No, in that moment, all the research should be complete and a plan in place. And, not just a plan, in that moment, you must have practiced the plan. And not just practiced until you got it right. You have to practice until you can’t get it wrong.
This has so many applications in my life. In the fire service, so many things have to become muscle memory, almost done without thinking. The way I lay out my gear to be ready for a call, the way I put my gear on, the side my radio strap hangs to, which pocket my self rescue stuff is in, the channel my radio is on, etc. Can I find my UAC or “Buddy breathing hose” in the pitch black? Where is the control for the mirrors on the truck, the wipers, the heat and air and can I change them without taking my eyes off the road? In an emergency, could I figure out which way to follow the hose back to the truck, even in the pitch black? In the crisis, it’s too late to train and think. Muscle memory takes over.
In life in general, when the crisis hits, it is too late to do a lot of theological and philosophical study to decide what you believe about God and life. No, we must nail that down before the crisis or else we will be influenced but the situation itself and not be able to see the truth through the adversity. It is too late to wonder if God is really good while you watch your loved one suffer. He is good but in that moment, you will be tempted to blame him for their suffering.
My takeaway? Whatever it is that I want to do without thinking in the moment of truth, I must train that into myself until it is second nature, muscle memory. When I strap on to the back of a bull, my eyes should automatically lock on his shoulders. When I arrive on an emergency scene, I should do a 360 scan, not just get tunnel vision. When life crashes in around me, my heart should be primed to worship God in the storm. The list goes on and the fruit from such an approach may be incalculable.
“Sometimes fighting to hold on means it hurts worse when you get bucked off. Fight like hell anyway.”
As I have said many times, I could not be prouder of Caleb for his willingness to tackle this adventure, his toughness fighting through the pain and his courage for facing his fears. I was especially proud of this ride where he fought with all of his might to get back up on “Kevin’s” shoulders. As you can see, when he does get thrown, he pays a pretty high price. He gets hooked in the boys and his knee. What isn’t seen in the video is how he struggles to get up on the fence as he scrambles away. Also not captured is how he had to lay down on his back for a minute once he got out of the ring to fight off the nausea.
It was his best ride of the weekend but he paid for it. If he’d let go sooner, he probably would not have gotten hooked. But letting go wasn’t in his mind. He fought anyway. And even after taking a horn to the boys, he shook it off and got back on the bull. It was badass. And I couldn’t have been prouder.
I’ve said before how much I love the underdog, those that don’t quit despite enormous odds. I guess I learned that from a 4’10”, 90 pound woman everybody called “Tink”. I just called her mom. She was 90% gristle. The other 10% was stubborn as a mule. She fought her whole life. She never backed down or gave up. She was my hero.
I guess some would say there’s no need to get hurt. You’re gonna get thrown off the bull anyway. Why not just let go and be safe? And I admit, 10 days later, as I lay on an ice pack nursing a nasty bruised tailbone, perhaps I should have played it safe. While I’m not advocating throwing caution to the wind, I am saying there is something honorable about not quitting, not letting go not playing it safe to avoid pain.
My takeaway? Love anyway, even if you get hurt. Try anyway, even if you fail. Get back up anyway, even if you’ll never succeed. Don’t let go, even if you get thrown off. Why? Because you’ll sleep better at night knowing you may have been beaten but you were not broken. (For example -Louis Zamperini’s story as told in Unbroken). Because quitting hurts a lot worse than failing. Because you’ll look back one day and be so glad you held on to that rope instead of letting go.
“When you are living on the edge it is always good to have a wingman or two. #bullfightersrock”
I have so much respect for bull riders and bull fighters. The courage, toughness, athleticism, agility, strength, respect, etc they possess is truly remarkable. I also learned a healthy respect for the athleticism of the bulls too. But most of all I discovered how much of a team sport bull riding is. It cannot be done in isolation.
The first time I got in the chute, JW, my instructor told one of the others in the group to grab my vest and hold on to me while I got ready so if the bull started acting up I would not fall down underneath him. JW helped me get roped up and when I was ready, helped pull the gate. I was on a couple of seconds before getting beat by a left turn. I spun down to the ground and was promptly grazed by a kick to the chest. While I was trying to get my senses, the two bull fighters in the ring distracted the bull away from me. On another ride, while I lay unconscious on the ground, the bull fighters once again protected me while I could not protect myself. It was a team effort.
My takeaway? Truth is, life is a team sport. It is not to be lived in isolation. We need people around us that have our back. People that look out for us when we don’t even know what to worry about. People who will put their body on the line to protect us. People who are cheering for us no matter what. People who help us shake it off and get back in the saddle. And, we need to be all those things for others as well. So it was for the team at Let R Buck bull riding school and for the group of us learning to ride last weekend. I count them as brothers and sisters.
Who knew bull riding could make you so philosophical? 🤣
Be ready. Don’t let go. Travel with your posse.
On this journey with you,
Carl
Snapshots For The Soul 