There is nothing for jet lag like an hour on horseback.

And there’s nothing like a week off to get the lungs seizing up again. Not five minutes into open order and I was sweating buckets and going all short of breath.

My legs are just about broken, and I couldn’t be happier.

I slept through the short flight to Shannon, and wobbled a bit on the connection to Dublin, but managed the first day back on only a short nap, and a visit to an awesome amatsu practitioner. I’d been given the recommendation ages ago, but hadn’t had the time nor dosh to go, and let me tell you something: if you’re feeling at all crooked, check out a treatment near you. I was told that my left leg was a full inch longer than my right. ! This does not really surprise me. I’ve always found that that one stirrup was always too long or too short, as the case was, and I look forward to being completely realigned.

Even after one session, I was much more conscious of how even the one adjustment has helped my seat. It’s all in the hips, y’know. I really had my legs on, and it being Delilah, it was something of a bumpy night. We did some blistering cantering, two riders at a time, which was the business, cantering in twenty metre circles and basically flying around the place.

And the lag? Gone, daddy, gone, and I’m already looking forward to Thursday. And my next session. And those sit ups I swore I’d do on my return… okay, maybe that last? Not so much.