Ten Things I Wish My Instructor Knew

This is my all-time favorite picture, mostly because it includes my really rad instructor.

1. I see you give "congratulations" to the winning riders. But most importantly, I also see you address those riders who did not win, and the riders who are sometimes crying.  The riders who don't quite understand yet.   You tell them they are going to work harder, you tell them they will get better, even though all you want to do is give them a huge hug and wipe away their tears.

2. Your face/voice  is the last thing I remember before I enter the show ring.   Everything after that is a crazy, stressful blur.   It is the only thing that gives me something familiar and calm to focus on.  Even if you're not talking to me inside the ring, your voice helps me know that I am okay and will definitely survive this class.

3. I am scared, sometimes.  Like that time a year ago when you made me ride Trix for the first time... outside.   I had only been at the LEC for a little over a year, and had only competed at a handful of shows, and I was scared to death.  I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you putting me on a different horse...  Which leads me to #4.

4. I believe I can do something just because you tell me I can.  Like when you made me ride Trix. Or when you told me I would be moving up into the canter division.   I questioned myself every day, but I trust you to make decisions that not only challenge us but keep us safe.  So I agreed to these things and never turned back.

5. I know you all sacrifice a lot to make sure we succeed.  Whether that involves money, health, family, or personal lives.   I appreciate it, even though I don't always say it.

6.  I like to give you nicknames like "B-Dub" and "B-Wizzle".   It makes it much more hilarious when I've made a mistake 1000 times and you are frustrated.  also it makes me feel extra cool. No if I could only get that new snapchat thing the kids are on, then I would be extra cool.

7.  Sometimes, I work really hard but it doesn't look like it.   We all know I am notorious for water-skiing in the saddle, and I swear I am working on it.   Sometimes I am trying really hard but I can't get my body to do what it needs to do.  Sometimes my head says "go" but my butt says "no".   I swear I am trying, mostly because I really wanna ride that new 5-gaited lesson horse... just sayin'.   But I also wanna not die, so there's that.

8. You don't always have to tell me I am doing well.   It's cool every once in a while, but I show up at the barn to learn.   You don't have to feel like you have to give praise just because or to feed the ego.  I've got thick skin and a desire to learn, and that's more than enough.  also, it makes me appreciate those times when I do get praise.

9.  When I say I really don't like certain horses, I mean it.   But thanks for still making me ride them anyway.  It makes me a better rider and I feel like a boss when I have a good ride on a horse I don't like.

10. Thank you for all that you do.  Thanks for making the barn one of the safest, most accepting places I have in my life.   thank you for all of the friendships you helped me form-with both horses and people.   Thanks for not giving up on any of us, even when we fail HARD.   Thanks for treating us all with the same level of respect and attention.

You're FREAKIN' GREAT.
That is all.

Today I Had the Most Horrible Ride... It's a Matter of PERSPECTIVE

This isn't a long post, but it was something I was thinking about yesterday after my lesson.  I had already scheduled a post for yesterday, so I left this one in the back of my brain for a bit.   I loved it so much, I thought I would share.

This "poem" is very indicative of our minds as riders.  Sometimes (like my ride on Thursday) we are blessed to have amazing rides on amazing horses who give their hearts one thousand percent.  Those are the rides where we feel strong, confident, and untouched.

But it isn't always perfect.

Sometimes, a horse spooks.  Sometimes, we are "off" our game.  Sometimes, we are sick, tired, worried about other things.  Sometimes, we try our hardest and still come up short.  Sometimes we spend countless dollars getting to a show only to get last place.

But a moment is never wasted.   If you learned a lesson, even if it is a small one, you have not wasted a moment of time or a single dollar.   Ribbons cost $2, but the lessons you learn are worth so much more and you will carry them with you for the rest of your life.

So, it is a matter of perspective.  Are you going to see a bad ride as just that, or are you going to dust off your shoes, get back on, and look back at that ride from a new perspective?

Horse Show Superstitions--Or Why I sometimes Don't Wear Socks

Let's paint the picture, shall we?

It is my last lesson before a show, and I arrive at the barn.  I am nervous.  I am anxious.  I check my gear a million times before the lesson begins.

And I don't have socks on.

That's right, people.  No socks.  Even when it is below freezing.   Even in the hot summer.

I do this on purpose.

Why?   Because wearing socks during the last lesson before a show is terribly unlucky.  If you're my instructor, you think I'm crazy.   But I think they've learned to deal with my unique ways.  After all, I have informed them that there is, in fact, an unlucky whip (it is the really short white one just so you know) and an unlucky saddle (the #8).    Yes, I am extremely superstitious.   But why?

I did a quick google search of "horse show superstitions" and found so many articles and forums where riders talk about their lucky socks, their "unlucky" meals, and more.   Why do so many riders have superstitions?

I think superstitions are okay (I think my instructor may think otherwise when I make her give me another whip or a different saddle to ride in).   They are okay because they help those people like me, people who can be so "in their heads" that it can jeopardize the show before it even starts.

You see, by having these "superstitions", we are creating a routine.   And in that routine, we feel prepared for what is to come.  It eases our minds and helps us feel like we are moving forward, even when we are scared to death.

So this is one small snippet of my horse show routine.   In the mornings before a show, I always wake up, listen to my pre-prepared playlist, drink coffee, and eat a CLIF bar and a banana.   I do this every show morning.  I get to the show early so I can watch the judge and figure out if he/she prefers quicker horse, more aggressive riders, or if he/she is asking everyone to reverse at the trot.  I am not someone who can waltz into the show five minutes before go-time.   I need my routine, and I feel woefully unprepared if something messes it up.

So, go on with your bad self.  Choose those socks an hour before the show, wear your lucky underwear, chew your lucky gum and be as superstitious as you need to be in order to feel prepared.

I am curious- what are YOUR horse show superstitions?

10 Things I Learned While Working at the Barn

I don't know what possessed me to begin picking up shifts at the barn.  Maybe it was because I needed something else to do--you know, I already teach full-time and take two graduate courses each semester so I might as well add something else.  Or maybe I just wanted to be with the horses, since I just love being at the barn even when I don't ride.  Or maybe I needed to work so I could ride more, or show more.   Maybe it was all of these reasons.  Either way, I've still learned a lot.

Here are all of the things I've learned from summer camp, pony parties, school groups, and working as a lesson helper:

1. Our lesson ponies are priceless.
I didn't realize how much we rely on our "bombproof" lesson ponies until I watched them faithfully carry nervous riders who were learning how to post.  These are the same horses that work all day and don't fuss too much when a child decides to hang all over them at the end.  They are the horses who let children paint them all the colors of the rainbow.   They are the horses who listen to the excited squeals of little girls who are finally living their dreams.   They are also the horses who are loyal, especially to those riders who come from tough backgrounds and may be experiencing turmoil in their own lives.  These horses are truly the gems of the lesson program.

2. Raking barn aisles is an art form.
I was taught by one of the greatest (I am looking at you, Anna!), and this is one of my favorite things to do at the barn.   Usually, raking happens when the barn is empty and the horses are quietly chomping on hay, which makes for a soothing, zen-like experience.  There is a specific calculation of lengths, angles, and timing, but I love it.  It's like my own little zen garden.   I don't care that it takes me 10 minutes longer to rake than everyone else does, I make mine look GOOD.

3. Don't ever say "This is going to be an easy shift"
I made that mistake once and precisely 12482988 unexpected things happened that night.  Sometimes, people just show up.  Sometimes, a horse discovers its reflection for the first time.  Sometimes, the power goes out in the middle of the lessons and leaves everyone in the dark.   Sometimes, the barn decides that it doesn't want to hold snow on its roof anymore.   If you can think of it, it has happened at some point.

4. There is a special place in the afterlife for those who don't roll run-downs/polos correctly.  
There is nothing worse than  tacking up a horse just in the nick of time and getting to the last run-down and then realizing that it had been rolled incorrectly and that the velcro is on the other side.  You have two choices: twist it and velcro anyway, or re-roll it.   either way, you are going to get a stern "hurry up" but one of those options will be a little more intense.  You guess which one.

5. There are ways to look busy when you have 5 minutes of breathing time.
We've all been there.  Exhausted, hot, cold, worn out, whatever.   When you have five minutes to finally breathe (or use the restroom), you can find ways to look busy which include but are not limited to: walking with "purpose" while looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and disappearing into the hay trailer, camp room, storage closets, stalls, etc.

6. A lesson is pretty valuable.   
I think everyone should be required to work for at least one lesson at one point in their lives.   You value your lesson so much when you know what it is worth.   It's the same thing as paying for your way through college; you'll work harder and know exactly how much it is "worth" when you are responsible for paying/working for your own way.   I think I always ride the best when I work a shift that day, because it reminds me just how valuable a lesson really is.

7. It will start raining on your way to the hay truck.  Just accept your fate.
Oh, the weatherman didn't call for rain today?   That's going to change.

8. Working at the barn is an endurance sport.
The first time I worked a shift and then rode at the end for my lesson, I was exhausted.  It's no wonder that our lesson workers are some of the best riders in the barn-- you have to have some mad endurance skills in order to feed, water, get horses ready, take out trash, sweep, etc., and then ride at the end.  If you're looking for ways to burn calories, this is the job for you.

9. We run on "barn time", not real time.
Your watch says it is 1:30? No, it is midnight.  The show was supposed to start 30 minutes ago?   We run on BARN TIME, people.  Show up early, but don't expect to do anything on time.  Things just happen (see question #3), and there is nothing you can do about it.  

10. A barn is a family.
When I normally ride, it is one of the least busy days of the week.   But through working, I have gotten the opportunity to work when the barn is teeming with clients, and little girls lead their ponies into the arena and seasoned riders chat by the stalls.   I am reminded of how much we really are a family, and how everyone works together and appreciates one another.  It may be something as simple as showing a young rider where their horse's stall is located or lending a helping hand in the tack room, but it is those small acts of kindness that bring us together.

There is so much laughter and joy and friendship in this barn.

And that, my friends, is the most important thing that I have learned.