Taming the Bull

I stood there, staring at it. Even though it was as still as could be at the moment, I felt as though it was taunting me. My eyes narrowed in focus as I thought long and hard about what was in front of me and what I was about to do.

It had been 10 years since I’d gotten on the saddle. 10 years since the bucking bull flung me off its back, giving me the worst injury I’d ever sustained in all of my bull riding career. I can only vaguely remember the events after flying through the air and landing on my back. Looking at the bull in front of me, it brought those vague, pushed away memories back in full force.

I came back to awareness slowly, laying on my back and in a lot of pain. I groaned as I opened my eyes, blinking quickly and bringing my hand up over my eyes to shield them from the sun. I slowly brought my body up and leaned my forearms on the dirt below me. I looked around me and came to the realization that yes, I was still at the rodeo and yes, I was still alive.

Noise came back into awareness after. I could hear the crowd around the stadium yelling, as well as the other rodeo workers yelling around me. I was still disoriented so I could not make out what they were saying, but it didn’t sound like the excited cheers that usually permeated the area. I could vaguely hear the flankman yelling what sounded to be my name.

When I looked across at them, my vision was so blurry I could barely see in front of me. I groaned again and brought my hand to my head, pulling it away and noticing blood. My first thought was that my head must have hit the ground when I slammed into it, cracking open under the force. My second thought was if I was on the ground now, then where was the bull?

I looked forward again, blinking my eyes to try and get my vision to clear. And as it did, I noticed that they had not yet successfully got the bull back in the pen. Instead, the bull was standing a distance in front of me, pawing the ground with one of its hooves. I could now understand what they were probably yelling at me- get the hell out of there before this bull charged, because the bullfighters did not seem to be distracting this particular one enough for me to take my time.

I got up quickly, ignoring the pain in my left leg and running (more like hobbling) to the nearest pen fence. Getting to the fence felt like being in one of those dreams when you’re trying to run, but you can only seem to run in slow motion. I clenched my teeth with effort as I finally made it, gripping the metal bars and pulling myself over in one single move. I landed on the other side on my two feet, assisted by two rodeo hands who quickly grabbed me to keep me from falling and was able to turn just in time to see the bull right up at the fence. It huffed through its large nostrils, expelling the energy I’m sure that was coursing through it. I stared into its eyes, wondering if it was maybe thinking “I’ll get you next time” or “Be lucky I spared your life”. Even in that moment though, I didn’t have anything but respect for the bull in front of me. It was a strange feeling- being scared and yet respecting the animal that scared me all at once.

I could only think in that moment that the reason I was still standing, and able to get over that fence as fast as I did, was from pure adrenaline. But I could then feel it fading, and while the bull was still staring into my eyes I collapsed, losing consciousness.

I shook my head, effectively shaking the memory out of my mind. I touched my head lightly over the now scar of my injury, only a phantom pain now. The doctor said I was lucky- a mild concussion, a few stitches, and a sprained ankle is what I walked away with. I was told to take a break from strenuous activity, of course including bull riding. I informed the doctor that she wouldn’t need to worry, I didn’t intend on riding any bulls soon. And 10 years later, up until tonight, that was still the case.

Nobody talked to me, probably sensing my nerves, as I waited for my name to be called to ride next. There was no loud crowd here, no rodeo hands to help assist in the event of an emergency. As far as I could see it, there was only me and the bull in front of me. I watched as person after person got on it, laughing as they were bucked around, the speed becoming higher in intensity before they were finally catapulted off. It was hard for me to tell if this was tamer then what I used to do.

When my name was called I took a deep breath, securing my cowboy hat on my head a little more and stepping into the ring. I assessed the bucking machine in front of me for a quick moment before quickly hopping on. The operator was looking at me, waiting for me to give a thumbs up that I was ready. I gripped the beast and took a deep breath before giving a thumbs up.

What followed felt like slow motion. As I was bucking back and forth, I used the technique I remembered from all those years before, keeping a tight grip so not fling off. I was holding my breath the entire time, feeling the exhilaration run through me as the speed picked up. It was just how I remembered it to be before getting injured. The adrenaline, the excitement and the power came back full force. Though it wasn’t a real bull, I could almost close my eyes and imagine it was. Which is what I did.

I imagined it was the bull that flung me off of it in less than 8 seconds all those years ago. The one who caused the anxiety within me about ever getting on a bull again. The one that made me rethink my existence in such an alarmingly short time frame. The one that made me almost see my life flash before my eyes. Except this time when the bull flung me off, I was not scared and I was completely aware of what was happening, and in fact I expected it.

I landed on my back on a soft and malleable surface. I could hear the mechanics come to a slow stop as I laid there. I didn’t care if there were people now waiting their turn, I could only lay there and bask in the new feelings within me. There was no pain this time, no distorted hearing, no blurry vision and no worried shouting. Instead the only thing I had in that moment after being bucked off the mechanical bull, was a smile.