Jealousy and the Horse World.... and How to Deal.

I have been trying to think for a while about how to write this post.   It was actually one of the first ideas that I came up with when I started my blog about a year ago.   However, even though I experience this emotion quite frequently, I have never found the right words to convey what I wanted to say.   What is this emotion?

Jealousy, people.

you are lying if you say you aren't jealous of someone else.

It rears its ugly head in the beginning months of show season, when teams of horses and riders are being paired up, and some of us sit behind, hoping and praying that our favorite lesson horses aren't bought or leased by someone else.   It happens when you work hard, really, really hard and have a good ride on a REALLY tough horse but you don't pull the blue.   Instead, it is someone with their near-perfect horse with a smooth, effortless canter who takes the victory lap.    Jealousy is when you show against someone who rides a horse they've practiced on for months, while you've practiced on your mount for a couple of weeks, if you're lucky.   It's knowing that this year's division will be stacked with riders who have their own (or leased) horse, while you will be riding whatever they take to the show.   Jealousy is those people who have custom clothes every year.   Jealousy is wishing you didn't have to carefully calculate how much you will have to save to go to nationals each year, and wishing even more that somehow the judges would have more sympathy for people like you.  

It's hard.   and I'll tell ya, I feel it.   All the time.   I try to play is off, and I joke that there is not a single person I ride against that I am afraid of.   I've worked HARD over the winter, and I have improved drastically since October.   But that does not mean that I am immune to jealousy.  

But I AM trying to do something about it.   So what can you do to overcome jealousy?

Be thankful.  I am thankful that I will have a horse to ride at the show, even if it is a different one each time.  I am thankful for great friends, who support and raise me up even when I am at my lowest point.  I am thankful that those same friends also tell me like it is, and call me out when I am being too whiny or too negative or looking to put the blame on someone else.   I am thankful for all of those people that have let me borrow things:  from saddles, to whips, to gloves and jewelry.    I am thankful that I get the opportunity to work as much as I do.   I am thankful for no-stirrup lessons and stronger legs.   I am thankful to have an instructor who looks out for me, even though I am quite the handful in the ring.    As my husband so aptly puts it, I enter the ring like I am "upside down, on fire, and in the fence".   It's true, and not just reserved for the show ring; I do my own stunts in the warm-up area, too.    

Be aware.    I know that it is going to be much more difficult to ride against those people with their own horses, nicer clothes, etc.   But I can sit back and cry about how it is unfair, or I can work hard enough that I can ride any horse in the barn, and win.  So I've been riding every chance I get.   And when I can't ride, I workout at home.   I am losing even more weight, so I will be as in shape as I can be.  

Be tough.  It isn't going to be easy--but it is better than drowning in jealousy.

What to Do When the Odds are Stacked Against You

It seems to be that time of year again.  The time when little children are surprised with their first (or fourth) horse, when horses are leased and bought, when teams are being formed for the new year. These people would get to practice with their new partner all year--while I will most likely find out in September who my Nationals partner will be.

The odds are stacked against me.

I am only in my second season showing at the canter, and this is only my third season and third year riding saddleseat.   I am an adult, which means I don’t learn as fast as some of the younger riders.  

The odds are stacked against me.

I am shorter, my legs a little less “defined” than a lot of other riders.  I am slightly more curvy than some of the other riders, though I am working on it.    My neck is a little shorter and my jaw does this really weird thing when I am focusing really hard.

The odds are stacked against me.

This time last year, I only rode once a week.   I didn’t begin riding multiple times a week until a couple of months before Nationals.

The odds are stacked against me.

I do not have the nicest clothes, I don’t own my own saddle.  I lose my show gloves at least once a month.

The odds are stacked against me.

I didn’t make it past the second round last year at nationals, despite giving it everything I had.   

So why do I continue, even though the odds seem so insurmountable?    

Because I have two choices.  Give up, and let doubt control my life or work harder, stronger, smarter than everyone else.   It has been said that doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.  It is true. We do not know what we will look like when we reach our full potential.   And I think that scares us.  Makes us wonder if the work is really worth it.  Because, no matter how hard you work, you will also fail, many many times.   Muhammad Ali failed many times, yet he is still considered the greatest.    How good we are, and what kind of person we are is shown by how well we rise after falling.     If you work hard at something, and truly enjoy it, then you will inevitably become good at it.   

So how do you work harder?   Volunteer.   Work for lessons.   Watch lessons when you can’t afford to take another one this week.   Tune in to live feeds of shows across the country.   Ask questions.  Ride whatever you’re given, and don’t pout when you don’t get to ride the “fancy” horse every week.    Be a good sportsman.   Say thank you.    Pet your horse when he’s done a good job, and don’t punish the horse--or yourself for a bad ride.   Embrace your faults, but work to make them better.    Join a gym.   Buy or borrow exercise equipment.   Ask more questions.  Learn theory, and the “why” of what we do.  Know every part of the equipment and their function.  And when you think you have learned everything and done everything you can, ask more questions.  And most importantly, find the courage to try again, even after failing.   

So when the odds are stacked against you, when it seems like there is no hope in sight, keep going.    Embrace that moment, when you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.    That, truly is where you will find yourself.   

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

How a pink slip, a video game, and a little bit of luck led me back to horses

Life works in mysterious, amazing ways.    I had given up horses after my favorite horse, Royal Edition, passed away.  I felt the guilt of not being there (I was living elsewhere at the time), and I felt like it was my fault.   I felt like it was time to move on in life.  

And so I did.   I got older, went to college, graduated, got my first teaching job.  I hadn't really thought about horses at all.   I had the "grown up" life to live.  

But life does work in mysterious ways.  

Three years after I got my first teaching job, I was let go due to overstaffing.  It was not because of my performance; we just had too many teachers and not enough students.  I thought my life was over, and that this was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.   I loved teaching at that school, and I still cherish the memories I made there.   I was completely devastated when I had to leave.  

My first year at my new teaching job was rough; I didn't have my own classroom and had to travel on a cart to use someone else's room each period.  I had an "office" which was really a windowless closet on the second floor.   I wondered why I was there.  Why I had to leave my dream teaching job.   I wondered when it would get better.  

One day as I was walking through the guidance office, I noticed a quote on the wall.  It read, "obstacles are opportunities in disguise."   I kept this as my motto, and kept telling myself that there was a reason why I was here.  

There was a reason, and I promise it leads to horses.  Bear with me!

For Christmas that year, I received a copy of the Sims 3 Pets.   I remember loading it up on my computer for the first time, and adding a horse to my household (of course, who wouldn't).   But something just stopped me in my tracks.   The sound of the horses in the game-the sound of hoofbeats and tack that jangles when you place it on the horse.   The sighs and snorts and all of those familiar sounds that I hadn't heard in so long were so accurate on this game that I literally sat there and cried for about thirty minutes.  Yep, a grown adult crying over a video game.   I'm not even ashamed.

But still, I figured that my time was up.  I mean, a horse wasn't going to fit in my backyard.   But I couldn't shake it.   I felt like there was a part of me missing, and I needed to get it back.  

And on January the 5th, 2014 I sent out a tweet.

I had asked if anyone knew where I could ride, and one of my students was quick to respond. She recommended the LEC.  when I checked the map location, I discovered that it was just a few minutes from my work.  If you all know me you know I don't like to drive to places I don't know.  This small distance from a familiar location seemed manageable.   And so that day I sent an email to schedule a lesson.  

And my life has never been better.

If it weren't for me losing my job, I would not have been teaching at a new location that is close to the barn, which means I wouldn't have felt comfortable driving there that first lesson.  If it weren't for my new job and these new students, one of them would not have recommended the LEC.  If it weren't for the video game, I never would have heard all of those familiar sounds that drove me back to horses quicker than I ever had imagined.

So why do I tell you this?   Sometimes, these obstacles in front of us seem so insurmountable that we are not sure how we will move on.  We focus on the difficulties that lie in front of us.  We focus on the sadness and pain.  

but life has an incredible way of working out, and will surprise you when you need it the most.

SIX Important Things I Learned This Show Season

1. Sometimes your happiest moments come from the most unexpected circumstances:   My favorite memory of this show season was when we took the half-arabian, half-hackney horse, Halle Berry, to the Lawrenceburg Horse Show.   We didn’t have time to warm up, and we were literally pulling out a half a bale of hay out of her mouth as we were rushing her to the ring.   I didn’t have the best equitation in that class, but I can honestly say I laughed all the way around the ring because I couldn’t believe that we actually took this horse to the show-it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.   Most of my happiest moments were not associated with ribbons. To be honest, I can't even remember what place we got at the show. I remember my happiest moment at nationals was not when I won 3rd place in the qualifying class (which was a tough split), but it was when I ran to meet my friend after she finally qualified for the next day.  I was happier in that moment than when they announced my own number.   
2. The world is not fair.   I remember looking at the judges cards after the second round at nationals.  Two of the three judges had me within the top 10- what I needed to place in order to move on.  The third judge, however, didn’t place me at all.   If he had, I would have been competing on Sunday.   I pouted and complained for a long while, but at this point I think that I shouldn’t have made it that close.  Is it fair that someone cantered into me while another stopped in front of me, leaving me with nowhere to go?  Nope.   Can I do anything about it?  Nope.   It hurts worse because it happened at a national horse show, but it happens to everyone.  
3. Your failures and successes this year do not determine what you do next year.   One of the riders who won the championship on Sunday didn’t even get a ribbon the year before.   If we constantly keep ourselves in the past, someone else is going to move forward.   And while I am so severely disappointed in myself, I am doing my best to move on and grow.   Here’s to no stirrup November!   
4. Just because someone else doesn’t notice it, you do have successes to celebrate.   I celebrate the fact that I can’t even remember the last time I didn’t get the correct lead or didn’t pick up the canter on Lucy.   This is a pretty big deal, because she is one of the hardest horses in the barn to get to canter.    I celebrate the fact that I kept going, despite some terrible circumstances.   I celebrate the fact that I competed with a wonky allergy-affected eye.   I celebrate that I got to show some of the most challenging horses in the barn this year-Trix, Halle, Henry, Lucy.
5. It’s ok to be sad, disappointed, or a little mad.   It is ok to blame someone else or something else.  It’s ok to get frustrated at the people who shrug their shoulders and roll their eyes when they get third-or second-place.   For a little while.   I am kind of over it at this point, but it took a lot of alone time and a lot of tears.   These emotions mean that you put your heart and soul into what you do-and that is a good thing.   But if you make excuses for yourself you will never grow.   
6. Don’t let the cost magnify the disappointment.   I beat myself up HARD after this horse show.   Why?   Because this one cost exponentially more than the other shows.  I mean, I could’ve taken a pretty good vacation for that money.   I am not rolling in the dollars, either, so I felt like I had wasted a ton of money.   But a horse show is just a horse show, whether it be 30 minutes down the road or three hours or three states away.   Disappointment, victory, tears, happiness can happen anywhere.   I am trying to understand that it was a learning experience, even though it was a really expensive one.   

So what now?  I keep asking myself this.   I guess I’ll keep working, keep riding, and maybe try again next year.   

Making the INCREDIBLE the INEVITABLE: Why You Need to Practice Until You Cannot Get it Wrong

So, a few days ago, I saw a this Gatorade commercial on TV.

You say "insane", I say "I train"

You say "freakish", I say "frequent"

You say "ridiculous", I say "meticulous"

You say "incredible", I say "inevitable"

Something about this video just stuck with me.   So much, in fact, that it inspired an entire post (which you are reading this very second).  

I think a lot of times we see something amazing, like a person walking a tightrope across two buildings or someone who swallows swords without a single injury.  We see football teams make amazing catches that require forty thousand replays.  We wallow in the wonder of these incredible individuals.   Such the same is for horses,

But, while these acts and amazing rides are quite incredible, they all have something in common: they were inevitable.   Someone, somewhere worked and practiced until they couldn't get it wrong.   Until the incredible was inevitable.   Sometimes we get so jealous of others that are seemingly "perfect" that we fail to realize that this was not a fluke, or some stroke of amazing luck.   This was carefully crafted in hot, scorching summers.  It was crafted in long, dark winters when no one else was around.   The shows, the performances--these are all just the public displays of this hard work.  

We won't all be perfect.   I know I won't be.  I have a list of all the things I HAVE to improve on if I want to be as good as I can be.   But I am not waiting around for good luck to hand me a ribbon--I'm gonna work for it.   

Are You Ready to Work at the Barn?(Quiz)

With so many of our seasoned workers running off to college, our barn has been looking for workers to take the open shifts.   This decision should not be taken lightly, so I made a handy test that will let you know if you have what it takes to work at the barn.  

Here's how this works:  For every "yes" you answer, you get two points.   For every "no", you receive one point.  Add them up at the end and see how you do!

1. Can you tack up a horse without assistance?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
2. Are you willing to work really, really hard?  Even when it is raining and you have to swim through the outdoor arena to feed the ponies?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
3. Are you willing to take demands from instructors, clients, and diva-mare horses?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
4. Have you made peace with the fact that you will always be covered in mud, hay, etc.  and that sometimes even after you shower, you will find hay in your hair---especially when you are out in public places?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
5. Do you know where to locate the leftover cookies, popsicles, and three year old (but still good) camp candy?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
6. Do you know of at least three hiding spots in the barn in case you want to avoid doing any kind of work?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
7. Can you name at least three "no no pet" horses?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
8. Are you willing to eat candy corn and Gatorade for dinner because you are too tired to fix (or pick up) food after working?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
9. Have you prepared your mind and  body for a permanent state of exhaustion?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO
10. Are you willing to answer questions from children that include but are not limited to: Is it full grown? where's it's mom? Is it pregnant? is it a boy or a girl?
• (2 points) YES
• (1 point) NO

Now, calculate your results!   

20 points: WOW!  You are SO ready to work at the barn.  In fact, go on and put your work boots on and get to the barn right now.   

17-19 points:   You might not realize exactly what you are getting yourself into, and you might need a little help along the way, but you can be whipped into shape in no time.  

15-16 points:  You've got a long way to go, but I have faith in you.   Even though you have no idea what you're getting yourself into, I think if you brush up on your list of hiding spaces and no no pet horses you will be good to go.    

Less than 15 points:  No.   Just don't.  You are better off trying to help with the mechanical horse at Wal-mart than the real ones at the barn.... here's a quarter. 

Setting Examples... and Why it's Been So Quiet on the Blog

I am not going to lie... Summer show season 2016 hasn't gone exactly how I had planned.   I had high expectations after winning blue after blue at the winter tournaments, and I had some of those similar expectations for myself this summer.  After all, I would be competing against some of those same people.   It's been tough, but I still come to work my shifts.   I still show up the day after the show to practice.  There have been so many times I have felt like giving up, like no one believes in me, and that maybe this isn't "my thing" after all.   I had stopped writing for the blog, and instead started formulating my "speech" for why I wouldn't be coming to lessons anymore.   This is real talk, people.

But at the last show, something miraculous happened.  And no, I am not talking about a ribbon.   I am not even talking about how I had to finish the second class minus one front shoe.

Here's what happened:

I had been working all morning at the barn,  trying to preserve my makeup while getting all of the show horses brushed and tacked and ready to compete for the day.   I was tired before I even mounted my horse for the first class.   To me, this was just another "eh" show, with minimal expectations because I had done so horribly this summer at the other shows.  

But as I was leaving the warm up ring and heading to the outdoor arena, so many of the little children stopped and said "good luck" to me.  Their eyes were wide with excitement and I could tell that the well wishes were very much genuine.  I started to chortle my usual sarcastic "yeah I will need it".   But instead of my sarcasm, I smiled back and said thank you.  

When we were in the line up in the second class, all of the children were packed into the "crow's nest", the area where our announcer sits.   I saw them peek at the numbers of the winning entries and immediately saw jaws drop and huge smiles--and they were looking right at me.   It was at that moment that I realized how much the younger riders look to us older riders and parents and friends, and how much of an example we can be.   it is not fair to myself or to them to be negative.   Because at some point, if I keep being negative, the number of children wishing me luck will diminish to zero and all I will have accomplished is teaching others that you don't ever need to believe in yourself, especially when times are tough.  

I am not perfect, and I never will be.   I have faults--especially like when I ride around the arena like I am in a toilet bowl and accidentally forget to switch my whip when we reverse and sometimes I even lose my stirrups going into the lineup.  

When it comes to who is watching you, the judge isn't the only one who matters.