Inspiration from a Listener Anna Supp  Listener Anna Supp sent us this email in the hopes it would provide inspiration for others. If you have a story to share with others in our horse-loving community,  we would love to hear it. It can be about anything - your favorite trainer, your biggest "ah ha" moment, or the story of your horse.  Email to John@WhoaPodcast.com and I'll do the rest. Hi John, I discovered your podcast recently, and thanks to an 11 hour drive that day, got to listen through for most of the trip. I thought I’d share with you a story, whether you’ll read it or have any interest in it, I have no idea. But perhaps there’s a piece of it you may want to share with someone that needs inspiration. My story is about coming back from an injury and redefining myself as a horse(wo)man in the wake of an accident. I’m 32 years old, and my horsemanship background is a little unique. I grew up very poor, in a family that did not (nor was able to) support my passion for horses, but I always found a way to be around them. Occasional rides on friends horses, hanging around barns to work for rides, and devouring every book I could get my hands on eventually found me with the opportunity to exercise a backyard horse for my teenage years, and then through good grades and good fortune I was able to go on to college for Equine Business, eventually changing to Agricultural Business Management, and ride on an IHSA team. This college program was really the foundation of my formal riding education, even though I’d spent years researching and learning through trial and error on my own. I went on to manage a summer horse camp, trail and lesson program, eventually building a show program. After graduating college, I moved on to a career outside the industry but continued to coach an Interscholastic Equestrian Program team, lead a 4H club, and teach lessons on the side. It was exhausting but deeply fulfilling. As my outside career progressed, I pulled back from teaching, and spent a few years on the paying side of the industry, leasing a horse, riding with a trainer, and competing in the jumpers. I had a lot of fun being the customer, but I found myself slightly unfulfilled in that role. Along came marriage and a baby, and another job change, and I pulled back even farther. After having my daughter I gave lessons again occasionally at another barn, but I felt more and more disconnected. As I closed in on my daughter’s first birthday, I was lessoning and leasing half-heartedly, and I had just made the decision to begin pursuing an MBA along with my full-time career. Three weeks before my daughter turned one, and five before the start of my MBA program, I was letting a young horse catch his breath after a warm up, when a car pulled into the parking lot. I remember the blinding flash of light as the sun hit the windshield just right; the mane disappearing out from underneath me, and then the realization that I could not get up. Throughout the ambulance ride, I was certain it couldn’t be anything serious, but as I lay in the ER, I overheard the diagnosis over the nurse’s radio, and I vowed then and there I was done riding. I had broken my pelvis in four places, including the base of my spine. After surgery, it was six days in the hospital before I could l lift myself out of bed. By the time I got home, the shock had worn off, and the first thing I did was rope a friend into driving me back to a barn. My daughter learned to walk by holding onto my crutches, and within a few months I was able to drag myself onto a mounting block and onto a horse. That’s when the real pain started. Physically I was fine, secured with plenty of hardware. Mentally, though, I was broken. Trying to push through riding, I began having panic attacks, nightmares, anxiety, and eventually depression. The thing I loved most in life had become a source of fear and pain. For anyone who has ever been in this place, here’s what you need to know: this story can have a happy en