Riding to Achieve VS. Riding to Beat Others

I never really realized the difference between "achieving" versus "beating others" until I returned to school and one of my students asked me how I did at the horse show this past weekend.

I laughed, and told him that I didn't place in the first two classes and that I got 7th out of 13 in the third class.   He looked down and said "I'm sorry".  I wish I would have had twenty more minutes to explain to him that even though I hadn't beaten many people, I still achieved a lot that day.   

I think we measure our successes and failures based on a ribbon.  and while they are great (and I am staring at a ton of them on my wall right now), it doesn't necessarily show exactly what we accomplished.  It is only a placement from a judge.  A judge that is different every time, or one that prefers taller people, or higher-stepping horses, or even certain barns.  

While it is okay to have healthy competition, your main goal shouldn't be "beating others".   Because when you have that mindset, you are putting your attention, communication, and effort on something other than you and your horse.   You should ride to "achieve" instead.   

As I look back at my ribbons, I am reminded of all of the things that I have achieved this year:

I survived my first ever saddle seat show.

I won my first blue ribbon on a horse I had only ridden a couple of times.

I got to take my first victory lap.

I anticipated a "spook" and stopped it from happening.

I rode in another class, despite getting last place in the first class.

And then I won that second class.

I was able to quickly recover a wrong lead before the judge saw me.

I competed for the first time at walk, trot, and canter. 

I showed one of the most challenging horses in the barn.

I didn't win.

But I showed him again, and won. 

I kept on, despite a break in gait, or losing a stirrup going into the lineup.

I learned how to cheer on a teammate, even the ones that are my toughest competition.

I learned how to trust my instructor, even when I was afraid.

I competed against a group of some of the 13 most talented riders in the barn.

I survived my first workout/pattern class.

I rode in the mud.

I rode in the scorching sun.

I learned how to google my competition.

I rode, despite being sick.  

I didn't win, but I learned how to push through and do my best.

I learned how to be humble.

I learned how to accept defeat. 

And now, as I look again at the ribbons and ask myself, who did I beat in each class? I can only remember a few.   In fact, on the back of each ribbon I always write what horse I rode and how many people were in each class.  I struggle to recall the names, the different barns, the different horses and trainers. 

Be competitive.   Go for the blue.   

But remember, your biggest competition is YOU.

Adult Riding Weekend 2016: Push Yourself to COMMUNICATE

As many of you who follow my page on facebook already know, I spent this past weekend at our barn.  Every year, we have an adult riding weekend where we focus on theory, skill-mastery, and new learning.

This year’s theme was “Push Yourself”, but I feel like there was an even more important theme present.   Every time we did an exercise or listened to lecture, there was always a common theme:

Communication.

Communication with the horse

Probably the most common type of communication we think of when it comes to riding is the communication with the horse.  We do this through aids, like our voice and seat.   I think sometimes, we see this as a one-way street; we think that if we tell the horse to do something in just the right way we can get whatever we want.  

This is partially true.   

Just like my instructor told us, “if you do not get the correct lead it is your fault”.  And it is.  Horses do not know that you’re about to attempt a figure eight, or straight-line lead changes.   They just know how to “horse”.   

However, communication is more than that.  One of the greatest learning experiences was when we practiced the straight-line lead changes, and I stood between the cones, ready to go.   I began to give the signals, and at first I didn’t quite get the response I wanted.  I thought I was giving the right signal, but I realized that the horse was trying to tell me that he wasn’t quite ready to go yet.  Sometimes, he was trying to tell me that I should have let him canter earlier, or that I was sitting unbalanced and he couldn’t pick up the right lead.   We are constantly giving signals to our horses, but we are also listening at the same time.  It is a conversation between rider and horse.  It is not, and never will be an order.  

Communication with others

It is also important to communicate with others.  We cannot go this road alone, as much as some of us introverts (like myself) would like to believe.  One of our first tasks for the weekend was to see who could name the most horses at the LEC.  Since I have worked quite a bit at the barn, I was confident in my ability to name all 51 horses.  However, there is something to be learned from this experience.  Sure, I could name all of the horses and be the “winner”, but I could also help others and they could leave learning even more.  Sometimes, we do not need to  make something a competition when it doesn’t need to be.  On the second day, we briefly got to ride in pairs through the arena.  Since most of us had never participated in drill team-style riding, this was a new experience and definitely a learning curve.  We had to communicate with our partner in order to stay together, or else we would break the formation and fail at the task.   

Communication with yourself.

On the very first day, my instructor told us that “knowledge ends where frustration begins”.  I had never considered this until now, but communication with yourself is extremely important.  We constantly tell ourselves that we are not good enough, we question if we are in the right division, riding the right horse, or even if we should be in this sport at all.   We are frustrated when we fail.   We let our victories blind us.   

We have to learn to communicate with ourselves.  I remember criticising myself after trying (and failing to complete) the two straight-line lead changes.   But I also remembered that I would get nowhere and accomplish nothing if I let my frustrations take over.   I took a deep breath, told myself I could do it this time.

And I tried one more time.

And I succeeded.  

And I think that this is what communication is all about.  It is about giving the horse, yourself, and others permission to try one more time.   We do this despite frustration, pride, and fear.  

So, push yourself to be a better communicator.  Because no one else is going to do it for you.

Young Voices (guest post): The Cost of Riding

One of my goals when I first created this blog was to showcase how much of a family and close community our barn actually is.   I don't think I ever had the intention of the posts on this blog being solely about me, or even authored by me.   So I've decided to do monthly guest posts, from some of our younger riders.   I'll call this "Young Voices", and I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy riding and working and interacting with these people.    We can learn so much from these people, and great care must be taken because they really are the future of this industry.

Today's post comes to you from a very talented Emily Brown, a fourteen-year-old Academy rider.  I love this post, most importantly because it shows how important learning is in our barn.  The instructors here truly do work within your budget and take every opportunity to teach you.

The True Cost of Riding

by Emily Brown

Equestrianism is not a cheap sport. It’s not a flat, one-time fee sort of deal that pays for your uniform and for you to be bused around for games. This is pretty much fact to anyone who has heard of horseback riding at all.

Now, for those of us who actually participate in this hobby (I use the term hobby lightly), we have all heard at one point, “I hate how riding uses so much money, you can’t get anywhere without money or connections!” This is partially true in my opinion.

The factor they forget is arguably the most important and organic factor of this lifestyle: Hard Work. I am proud to have paid for a good portion of events I attended in 2015, and plan to continue paying for as much as I can. The problem I have with the statement ‘you can’t get anywhere without money’, is that it implies the instructors and trainers are just in it for the money, and that’s all they want from you. That not only is an insult to trainers and instructors, but it’s highly unlikely if someone wanted to make a quick buck they’d enter the horse industry. It also implicates that hard work just isn’t effective anymore, which is just plain false.

I believe part of this is the extreme competitiveness of equestrianism… especially in the Juvenile divisions. Another more humorous root to this line, in my opinion, is the unrealistic expectations we get from horse movies.  Unfortunately, not everyone gets to buy an unrideable barrel prospect for $4 and then suddenly ride it in the 1D with no riding experience at all.

It’s a lot easier to complain about how you’re not getting there than thinking about what you could be doing to get there. A couple of years ago, I was honored with an invitation to the National Academy Finals. I couldn’t go due to lack of money. I pouted. I got upset, more than a few times. Now I can see why that didn’t happen for me, because in my opinion, had I gone that year, I probably wouldn’t have made it past Friday. Sometimes it’s just a matter of you’re not there yet.

So sure, riding can cost a lot, but realizing you can decide how you pay for it can be one of the most rewarding perspective changes you have in your riding career. I know I show a lot harder when I am working or paying for it than when someone else is, and part of that is just learning the power of the ‘almighty dollar’. I can’t speak for your barn, but at my barn, we have people who work full time at the barn because they have to pay board. We have people who work two or three shifts a week so they can lease a show horse and be ready for college.

The moral of the story is- you can get to where you need to be with a little less complaining and a little more work.

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.