The problem with 9 degrees…

All of you are really smart.  I am pretty sure you can guess what the problem with nine degrees is…IT’S EFFING COLD!  So cold, in fact, that our pipes have frozen twice.  Weee! (that’s the sound of money rushing from our wallet.)  Oh, and an interior pane in our double pane windows edge failed and then cracked the length of the window.

I officially hate winter.

Christmas was a lovely time with family, but my father’s cancer has come back.  Winter is just not our season.  Right now, he has had surgery, and we are waiting to start a specialized immunotherapy.  I have learned more about the genetic factors of melanoma than I ever really wanted to…kinda.  From a scientific point, it’s fascinating…watching it play out in real life with your Dad?  Not so cool.

What was supposed to be a two week trip turned into almost a month in GA.  We did get to see 3.5 inches of snow on the coast, though.  Go arctic blast! I am figuring that I will be down there again soon.  Which makes riding very hard.  Not only is cold enough to freeze pipes below the frost line, under my house, the weather is almost insufferable in the wind.  Which makes me really sad, as prior to Christmas we purchased a new/used Balance Saddle for Tricia.  She had out grown the Wintec Wide, and has now moved into the Balance Horizon.

Balance has a really neat product, as it works with a concept called constructive saddling.  It allows you to build the muscle you would like to see in your horse’s back out of a specialized pad, and then remove parts of those pads as the topline and muscle develops.  This sounds like horseshit…but it’s not!  The comprehensive training we have been doing to balance Tricia has allowed her to build her core and her topline.  The Wintec Wide was too narrow to allow further expansion of her shoulders, which is happening.  She has developed a lovely sit and a great trot.  I am so proud of her.

I hope it survives this weather!

Going back to GA may be a blessing, though, as it will let me use some of the techniques we have learned on little Bandy.  He had an abscess in his back foot, and then just as he was recovering, got kicked by a full size pony in the shoulder.  So I am hoping to long line him and help him to sit back and free up his front end a bit.  We will see how this goes.

I have also decided that when I lose weight I am getting a Tongrass Skirt from Arctic Horse. They look amazing and would be a blessing in this chilly weather.  Even if we end up moving from this north country, I still think it would be useful….and aren’t they pretty?

Keto Suiza

There are changes afoot in our little world.  Some of them I am not ready to share–they are my little secret for a little while longer.  Other things I am not emotionally ready to tell the world.  Sorry world.

What I can tell you is that diabetes is a bitch.  My diabetes doesn’t like any of the simple medications that insurance likes to pay for, so we are on the quest for the right cocktail. In many ways, I feel responsible for this.  I knew better, but I went ahead and followed conventional wisdom, and all that great “knowledge” let the beast out of the cage.  In my practicum we are teaching a diabetes ed course, and I have been able to speak to the certified diabetes educator regarding treatments and whatnot.  So I followed the AND recommended diet for diabetes.  (UGH!) The AND diet is nth-degree more liberalized than the diet I had myself on, which was helpful as we have had a death in the family (part of what I am not emotionally ready to get into), and it made “following a diet” easier while traveling.  Let me tell you, dawn syndrome and my scale did not like it.

If my legs were longer I would kick my own ass.

I have tried to use a modified Paleo (whole foods only, grain free, lean meat, 50 carbohydrates a day) diet for the past few weeks to balance my sugars, and it is not working.  So I, and Nate, are anteing up for Keto (same as above, just 20g carbs a day).

My fasting numbers were 20 points lower this morning.  Woohoo!  While off of medications, bigger woohoo!

Nate spent the last two days in upstate NY, so to celebrate having him home I wanted to make something special for dinner.  He loves enchiladas suiza.  It’s a tex-mex dish made with swiss cheese and not keto friendly.  So I decided to make a keto version!  The flavor is on point, but he says the texture is different.  For this make, I diced chicken instead of shredding it like most Mexican dishes.  In the future I will most likely shred the chicken. This dish also uses Salsa Verde.  Eastcoasters may not use a lot of this wonderful salsa, but it’s a common staple in the southwest.  The flavor is milder than some traditional salsas, and has a fresh bite that is more of an after thought instead of an in-your-face heat.

Keto Suiza

  • 12 oz frozen cauliflower
  • 8 oz frozen mixed peppers
  • 4 oz of cream cheese
  • 4 oz Salsa Verde (I like Goya)
  • 1 lb diced chicken, cooked
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • 4 oz shredded cheddar
  • 5 oz shredded swiss cheese
  • 1/4 c sour cream
  • 1 tbsp fresh cilantro  (I like the tubes you can get in the produce section.)


  1. Preheat oven to 375.  You will bake this recipe in a casserole dish.  It serves 6.
  2. Microwave the cauliflower and peppers.  I cooked the veggies together in a glass 9 X 13 in the micro for roughly ten minutes.
  3. Dice cream cheese and stir to coat veggies.  If you need the cheese softer to coat veggies, cook for 30 more seconds in the microwave.
  4.  Add remaining ingredients and stir to mix thoroughly.
  5. Bake for 25 minutes, until bubbly.  Let cool slightly and enjoy!

The weather is getting colder here.  This was a great dish to have on a chilly night.  I know that keto and paleo aren’t for everyone, but I am so excited to see a change in my sugars.   If dogma could catch up with the current research, there would be so many more people achieving better health.






The dancing horses.

I cannot believe that it’s October!  This year has flown by!  It’s been some time since I’ve said hello, and all of this was not twiddling thumbs.  In the interim I have been completing a Master’s in Public Health-Nutrition.  The course work has kept me busy, and I am in a full time internship-though I may be dialing back the physical in place hours, now that the research paper and project have to be delivered. I was also working “part time” (that’s four days a week, maybe five) for the barn while our most awesome barn manager was recovering from surgery.

In ways Tricia has made leaps and bounds.  Her balance is fantastic, and that has given her a power that (I think) surprises her.  She is brilliant, and obviously thinks about the work when we are not riding together.  Everything is coalescing from this amorphous i-have-no-idea-what-i’m-doing into beautiful movement and a fluidity I  never thought I would see with this mare.  My husband was slightly offended when I said this, frowning he admonished me with, “She’s the best horse in the world, right?  Why didn’t you think she could do it?”  I’m glad he was offended for her.  I should have been offended for her. She is the best horse in the world for me.  I kind of made her that way-all her inabilities are my own.  So between my husband and my trainer, who during our lesson yesterday, told me to stop “helping” her with somethings, and get out of her way so she could do them, I realized that my baby is in a place where she is moving beyond me being the teacher, and us being partners.

And that’s kind of amazing.  Like super amazing.

I bred Patty to the best stallion I could that matched my requirements 18 years ago:  World class blood lines and registration-able get.  I wanted something that could go to Nationals and Worlds in the ApHC. I was ready for the “big time”. (snort!) But, there was this inexplicable quality to Patty that I wanted to preserve, and I know that it runs down the Hayes Roman Cloud line.  Patty had kindness in spades, despite being abused and starved.  And she had an innate bravery and grit that most horses do not exude.  She was very self-possessed and confident in herself.  In the twenty-plus years she was with me, she only acted out emotionally once, and that was when we showed her at a facility that she had been sold at twice.  When she came home with us that weekend, she never behaved that way again.  We were hers, and she was ours-end of story.  While nature means much, I watched Patty give this kindness to Tricia and to Little Man (the miniature companion horse that we got to hang out with Patty when Tricia was traveling, and vice versa.) As I said before, Patty was starved before she was rescued by  a wonderful lady who entrusted her to our family.  She taught Tricia and Little Man to share hay, which they both do to this day.  No one starves in their field and herd.  Little Man has taught his two miniature companions (yes, there are mini comps for the mini comp.  He couldn’t be alone after Patty passed away.) the same respect for each other, their humans, and their farm.  When I bred Tricia, I did not breed for a dancing horse.  I didn’t even breed for a “western pleasure” or “HUS” horse.  I bred for kindness and bravery and the ability to get my spots registered.

In the run of stops and starts in her career, either from my life being crazy, or her being a Murphy’s Law with stuff like Lyme Disease, I never thought I would have the horse that does as she does now.  I have always known that she has the most magnificent personality, and the most wonderful heart, and that she will push through anything.  I never thought she’d have an almost canter pirouette, half pass like a pro, or have solid mediums that are working towards extension.  Tricia is now engaged in her work.  She likes it.  She amazes herself with what she can do, and she loves it.  We are a team, and she is learning amazing stuff about herself.  She is feeling when she is set up do things right, and moves on it when asked.  There is no tedious nagging, she is engaged and most importantly, all that kindness and bravery is happy!

Early in Tricia’s career I took her to a reining trainer, who said she would never and that I would be better off doing WP or trail.  Ha!  I would love to see him now. There was also a woman I worked for that suggested I use her as surrogate mare to get some warmblood that could “do real dressage.”  And while I should be used to the negativity, seeing as I rode spots before spots were cool…back when spots were despised…It makes me wonder, how many awesome, wonderful horses in the world are being over looked or under utilized because some numb-nut somewhere made their owners feel like the pony couldn’t, wouldn’t or should never?

I’ve always known she is the best horse in the world.  She is the daughter of my heart, created to carry on my heart’s legacy.  It is both inspiring and humbling to watch her excel in a way that makes her happy as she slips from being my “baby” into being my partner.

Tricia eating grass

The Arts of War

I got hurt doing Crossfit.  Not badly, but a pretty decent muscle pull.  “Personal training Crossfit” and “just doing classes Crossfit” are two majorly different things.  I didn’t realize at the time just how much care Trent (the trainer) was taking in creating my weekly torture sessions.  I was always challenged, but never felt like I could or would get hurt.  Classes are a whole ‘nother thing.  In class the coach watches for you, but not in the same way the trainer does during a PT session.  The coach at our new box was amazing, but didn’t realize something Trent did pretty early on:  I will not back off or give up.  If you ask me to do this thing, I will do it…the hell with what may….So I hurt myself in class, over facing my current state of fitness (or fitless, depending on how you look at it). I actually went to see my doctor, and she suggested yoga to fix my current muscle pain.  Nate and I have been really lucky, and we found a yoga studio that also does martial arts.  Nate has been wanting to start martial arts for years, and he always put it off because of money, job, school, life, etc.  But, sneaky wife that I am, he is now in martial arts (just for him!) and we are also doing yoga and Qigong.

Qigong is the grandmother of Tai Chi, and is a process of body placement and breath work to create stability in the body.  It’s amazing, and if you can get to a class, I highly recommend it.  I’m currently pursuing my masters in nutrition-which is the bastard cousin of Western Medicine.  While I have always believed that symptomatic treatment is a poor diagnosis, I am skeptical enough to always question the validity of energy work.  Regardless of my full embrace or lack there of in energy work, the concept of the body working as a complete system, including the electrical impulses that guide cells, makes perfect sense to me.

I think every equestrian has seen the meme of Stephen Colbert asking about when the horse decided it wanted to just dance.  I don’t know if the horse ever wanted to dance, and I understand that the airs are most likely for giggles when not in battle, but I found a deep connection between what I am asking Tricia to do in dressage and myself in Qigong this past week.  As Nate, I, & class were working on foot placement for balance and awareness, I couldn’t help but think that is exactly what Tricia and I had been doing the prior Wednesday.

Tricia and I have spent almost a year working on side to side balance and are now venturing into front back balance.  As her box is getting smaller, she is less willing to reach for the bit, and is not utilizing her neck properly.  I know somewhere in this that I must be blocking her energy.  We have worked so hard on creating a slow attainable balance, that I am now worried that the reason we lack power in this new piece is because of that.  I am trying to imagine how I want the energy to flow through her body, and how I want her to feel as she touches the earth.  This mind shift is new, and I worry about the fluffy-bunny aspect of it.  I chose my faith years ago, because I had been privy and blessed by too many miracles to be agnostic.  That being said, I have seen enough bunk science, that I feel blindly following anything can be a bad judgement call.

As I know this is a dreamy post, I am loving the aspect of the spiritual sides of these Arts of War.  Much passion would be required to fight for your family, or your kingdom.  The energy, the heart behind that would be critical.  The dire bond that would create with the souls that you touch amongst the field.  I am a terrible dancer, but I wonder if I would have been a decent warrior.  The fire that lives in my Tricia, that brave heart that sees the world and still stays sweet.  I am not so sure she always wants to dance with me, but I do not question that she would fight for me.

I have been frustrated with this “new” method.  There are days it seems very much like my “old” method.  But perhaps the above is what I have been missing most.  She may not want to dance, but she would fight.  She will have my back.  I have always seen her as my baby.  Perhaps it’s time to see her as my partner, my fellow in whatever may come.



My eldest nephew turned five this weekend.  He wanted a hurricane party!  Ala Ms. Frizzle and the magic school bus variety.  My sister-in-law’s people are from Nawlins, and they know how to throw a good hurricane party.  Despite the rain outside, it was a fun time for all the little ones inside.

My trainer calls that moment the horse decides to have a hissy fit Tricia’s own little hurricane.  I find them a mixture of amusing and full out pissed off.  You see, I bred and raised that little girl (she’s 17 now, but will always be my baby) and when she decides she just “can’t even” she does sassy shit that she knows will spin me up.  Sometimes I find this sass hilarious, as she really is the best horse world and her on sassy days is what some rider’s deal with every day.  Sometimes she will buck, or she will kick back at the whip.  She hates the whip!  It’s the ultimate offense.  You would think I had called her a shetland or something! But, confession time:  Sometimes it really pisses me off!

I know this is sacrilege. We are supposed to be happy, patient riders all the time, staying completely zen.  (Ah, yoga class…I look forward to ye!) They are, after all, beasts–horses don’t know any better (yeah, right!), and are simply unable to control their emotional outbursts (another crock of poo).   UGH!  This is why the equestrienne archetype does  look like the cool grey Ralph Lauren ads!  We all wander around with this unaffected ice queen image to look up to, when in reality sometimes horses are little shits that know how to get your goat as good as any person would! But, isn’t this normal in any working team?  I love my friends and family, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to stick my fingers in my ears and raspberry them on occasion!

We are currently working on saddle number four.  It fits Tricia great, but for me? It’s not the most comfortable saddle I have ever ridden in; for me it’s passable. As my hip flexors stretch, and her withers come up, it gets more comfortable.  But it also requires less actual seat space, which makes the saddle feel bigger than what I need.  What an odd problem right?  Go from riding in a 19.5 to a 17.5 and tell me what you feel?  Is this a plus-sized rider thing? Or is this a simple, “I’m getting better and learning how to use the saddle better” thing?  I was terrified to buy this saddle because this was the largest seat size I could get in the Wintec. I was steadily gaining weight after J’s death.  How was I supposed to take 2 inches off my saddle seat?  Now the problem is the opposite, and as recommended by another rider I have put the thigh blocks in.  I have never ridden with thigh blocks. I came up old school with flat Crosby’s and Miller’s.  My first dressage saddle was a flat Crosby!

Just like in yoga, it’s all about position.  We all want to be Charlotte, floating along and looking lovely.  Well, it takes time and dedication to get there, hips open, thighs back, happy hanging heel.  Relaxed back and shoulders.  Arms that can operate with that fluid independent swing from the shoulder with elastic elbows and light fingers. When it happens, it’s all zen and lovely and we float for that minute.  It’s hard, and we’ve succeeded. THIS is happiness! Then the horse decides to stick her ass out in Montana, and it all falls apart.

So our last few lessons have been for the betterment of me (greatly overdue, I’m sure the horse would say), and finding that sweet spot position.  We all learn technical purpose of the position: physical safety, communicative aids, and general feel.  But I was never taught that it is also your emotional Hurricane shelter.  When Tricia goes to “can’t even” I can find my position, stay soft and lovely and (as long as my 5’1 frame will allow) long legged, floaty heel, and just weather her storm.  The temper tantrum is no longer funny or piss-tacular, it’s just a moment in time.  Happy unaffected rider–one half of this team is no longer losing their shit! But the wild thing is, the horse settles down.  Yay!  I set proper and fair boundaries, and she adapts to deal with them!  ZEN!

Oh, I need this for people!  Deep breath, inner peace.  Boundaries. Maybe someday! Until then, I am so happy to be finding it in the ring with Tricia.  I know this will help our bond, and also give her a safe, confident place to be within our team.  The “can’t evens” are coming less, and she is already making strides for better balance.  It’s really been amazing.

Wine and Chocolate

I have four drafts sitting the trash.  I started them along the way, but couldn’t finish.  The New Year draft went exactly like this:  How do I even start?  Tricia colicked in November, right before Thanksgiving.  We made it to GA for Thanksgiving, and what was supposed to be a five people dinner morphed into a 25+infant dinner.  Not that I mind, that was the fun part.  December was not our friend.  I got a new job and got miserably ill in the first two weeks (never a good thing).  Christmas was devastating.  We lost our brother Christmas morning, and as I am writing this during lunch at said new job, I cannot go farther into it without absolutely losing it. So…amidst the first snow of the season in teen-degree weather we took our first lesson, and my first ride since 2016 last Saturday.

The ride was fantastic, Tricia was perfect in every way.  Because she is always, and she always knows what I need.  I was going to title this a “fat” post, but then decided that was just BS.  As you can read, the last few months have been that kind of soul-searching stressful that one feels any time a family grows a little smaller.  Sometimes I feel alien to the circumstances, as out of all of us, I knew J the least.  That is both my blessing and my curse.  I have been able to be strong when others are not, and that’s my blessing.  My heart is heavy for the loss of what I knew as a good man, and just having missed the ability to have known what a truly great man he was.

I have returned to riding, and also crossfit, with a full time job and finishing my masters. Those are fun things.  I am still a wife and a homeowner, and a fur-mom.  These are my normal stresses.  I stress out in un-obtuse ways, if you don’t count my ass.  After J’s service, I had anxiety attacks for three days.  Just small ones, but enough to know that I was coming down off the stress of part of the last few weeks. I was late to work one day.  I don’t think they noticed.  And I have binged.  Oh, have I binged.  I have eaten things that I would have never eaten in good conscious.    Nope–not a spelling error.  Had I been alert, had I not wanted to sink into the quiet calm of disjointing my mind and unconsciously consuming in an effort to push out all the clamoring and fighting for my energy and time and soul,  and not try to feed that beast that everyone needs me to be, I would have done better, been better.  What is so damning about it, is that being fat is its own kind of stress.  The kind that comes when pants you bought weeks before don’t fit the right way when they come out of the dryer.  Or that stupid sock or purse collection you have because that’s all that “fits” when shopping at the mall.  Simply, I create my own hurricane.  Seeking the silence of the eye, only makes the storm wider, more fierce.

My awesome husband is off galavanting the US to make sure you have satellites for communications (cell phones, facebook, etc) and that the folks on the ISS get what they need.  He was dancing between NYC and Boston and will be in DC tonight.  I will be glad to have him home.  Since he was gone, I decided to take myself out to dinner.  Yes, because it’s fun and easy to eat out, but also because if I came home there is a metric ton of stuff I have to do.  I would never have gotten 75% of my assignment reading done (Food Safety, and germy things.  Makes my heart flutter!).  I ordered wine with dinner, not an oddity in VA as the whole state is slog full of wineries.  And finished off with chocolate cake.

And it hit me.  I  AM the girl drinking wine and eating chocolate cake.  I AM the girl drinking one (large-ish, it is VA afterall) glass of wine, and eating ONE slice of cake.  I can be this girl.  This girl of ones.  And I can eat the cake and drink the wine (on occasion), because I am worth it.  I am worth the moment of savoring the wine, experiencing the dark sweetness of the chocolate.  I am so much more than the box of mac’n’cheese (which makes me break out, and completely sucks!) eaten somewhere between TV commercials.  I can be this girl.  Having this moment.  Because this girl, in this moment doesn’t want to be the girl that gets lost in hours of disjointed-mind-tv-slogging-bingeing.  These are my moments.  Good time spent studying, with single simple pleasures…left at the restaurant…never to tempt me in my own house.  Because then I don’t have a craptacular day at work (these have also been occurring), and eat the WHOLE damn chocolate cake.

This is so important because I am worth it.  My time is precious.  I have purpose.  When life chews us up, its sooo important to remember these things.  To not create our own hurricanes.  To be our own moments.  To be our own strength.  Because we are worth it.  We have always been worth it, and will always be worth it.  That is true peace, not the eye of the storm.

Balance (sorry it’s a long one!)

So, it’s time to put my money where my mouth is-warning, this is a long one.

So the first picture is roughly five years ago, so summer of 2011?  We were at a stock show, and I did show western, but had been riding in the hunt saddle because it fit me better than the stock saddle did.  The second image is from a dressage show in October of 2015 (she took first place!).  Like I said before, still not “skinny”, but we are work in progress.

I have had one of those eclectic horse experiences.  My family moved all over the US and what is popular in one corner of the country is bunk in another.  I have ridden western pleasure, western performance (team penning, barrel racing), HUS, hunters, dressage, and even a little bit of saddleseat. I bought the dressage saddle because the stock saddle fit so badly (very small seat) and I felt unbalanced in the hunt saddle–ie, not enough seat to suck all of me in. Also, upon our first foray in NoVA, dressage was the thing at the barn where I boarded and my WP got dirty looks. This was also not a first, and because the horse is amazing, switching to lower level dressage was not going to harm any of our WP training.  Despite the screaming naysayers, lots of this riding thing we do is the same.

I was at my heaviest in 2011.  My whole body balance was terrible, not just in the saddle.  It is a very frustrating and depressing feeling to be trapped in your own body.  It’s not the same as just disliking how you look. Girls are taught to competitively hate their bodies from a young age(1).  The girls in my family were taught that our whole self worth was directly correlated to the look of our bodies.  My gram once told me that it was good that I was smart, because I would never be pretty enough to be married.  (Yeah, thanks Gram.) This is not a pity party, this is to create some comprehension.  I was over my body not being perfect.  After a while you hit a certain point where it all becomes static, and you realize that you have to love you before you can truly love anyone else.  (Does this mean I am never insecure in my body?  Hell, no.  It drives my husband crazy when I complain about my appearance.  It just means that sometimes I have to recognize my priorities again.) The time leading up to that picture was stressful.  In the two years prior somewhere I broke, and my body paid the price for it (hello, disordered stress eating!). I was trapped and stuck in a cycle of continuous dieting and medication circus that went nowhere. I was tired.  I was depressed. And my stupid body couldn’t do the things it did before, and I was wrong. I felt wrong in my own skin.  I kept telling my trainers that my balance was off.  That I felt like I was sitting incorrectly.  I couldn’t get myself right in the saddle, even in the new saddle. My barnmates just thought I was a crappy rider, and I certainly felt like one. The blessing and the curse happened spring of 2013, Tricia contracted Lyme Disease.  Now we were both trapped in our bodies.

At one point stepping forward was impossible for her, nevermind trotting or cantering.  I thought I had lost her, that she was off to be retired at home far away from me.  I railed myself for keeping her-should have sold her-she would have been better off with someone else, someone more capable-maybe she wouldn’t have gotten sick.  The two years between 2013 and 2015 were big ones for both of us.  We were both learning new balance and new ways to move forward.  I was recapturing some of the rider I used to be, and she was getting stronger.  Even with all of the trials over those two years, horse-wise they were a win.

Balance is essential for your health(2). There are 300 muscles that hold you up every day, and tending to those muscles can drastically improve brain function, heart function, and GI function.  Cognitive decline is less in people that have good balance.  As riders we seem to know this.  How can you feel your horse’s balance if you cannot get a handle on your own?  This is what I meant by feeling off or wrong or incorrect.  My balance was off, so my feel was off.  Can a saddle help with this?  Sure.  But will it fix you?  Nope. That muscle strength is something you have to do for yourself.  So go take a walk or a jog if you’re feeling ambitious.  Walking a minimum of 30 minutes each day can drastically improve health and wellbeing(3).

The purpose of all this information?  We are on to the third saddle.  This weekend I had to purchase a Wintec WIDE.  The saddle snob in me is still reeling.  I am trading my Stubben for a Wintec.  Lesigh! The Stubbens (the hunt and the dressage) were too wide when I started this journey.  Both have the largest tree width offered in Stubbens “normal” range of saddles.  Tricia has built up enough topline to fill them out.  I bought the dressage saddle because I needed a 19.5 seat to accommodate me.  This time, the saddle truly is for the horse.

Our past two lessons have been really amazing for me in building confidence in my riding or my ability to get in touch with the rider I used to be.  My trainer has commented on how I can keep my dressage leg, despite being in an AP.  And that I have a feel for the horse and her balance.  These moments help me remember that I can and that I am no longer trapped.  When things are frustrating, those moments help me to remember that I can get where I want to go.  I have the experience, and more importantly, the ability.

So do you.

  1. Ross CC. Why do Women Hate Their Bodies. World of Psychology. via psychcentral. Accessed Nov. 1, 2016
  2. Sousa, Raquel Ferreira de, Gazzola, Juliana Maria, Ganança, Maurício Malavasi, & Paulino, Célia Aparecida. (2011). Correlation between the body balance and functional capacity from elderly with chronic vestibular disorders. Brazilian Journal of Otorhinolaryngology, 77(6), 791-798.
  3. Walking your Steps. Harvard Men’s Healthwatch. via Accessed Nov 1, 2016