Well This Sucks

We've been not talking about Courage for a long time now, so let's talk about him.

First things first--it's been a process, but I think we've hammered out the maintenance that will work for him and he's sound in work and ready to go. Vet doesn't foresee any limitations in terms of dressage/trails/whatever on the flat. Trainer is putting rides on him and says he feels really good.

(Btw for those of you keeping track--while Alli definitely got the prize for best comment on my last post, the neck twist was a chiropractic issue that has been handled. Quite simple.)

But.

Courage is an all-or-nothing sort of horse.

And while for a long time I've been able to appreciate that or laugh it off or make memes about it, now is not that time. I'm wading through a lot of personal shit and there isn't an end in sight and I can't make it stop.

But it means I can't bring my A-game to Courage.

And that doesn't work for him.

Right now, I need horses to be simple and fun. I need them to bring me joy, not force me to wrack my brain and push myself constantly.

Courage isn't a bad horse. He's a really cool guy in a lot of ways. He never quits trying. He's smart, he learns fast, he works hard. He's gorgeous and photogenic and good to have around.

Believe you me, I wish I could keep making this work. I adore him and he's done a lot for me and I wish there was some way I could keep trying.

It's taking all I've got to deal with life shit and there's nothing left over to deal with Courage.

That's not his fault. It's not my fault. It just is.

Of course, there's this whole giant blog about him and I've been quite public about our struggles, which probably won't help the re-homing process. I don't believe in back editing/deleting that stuff though, so it is what it is. I haven't posted ads at this point because he's a particular kind of horse and he needs a particular kind of person.

So if you or someone you know wants a gorgeous, fabulous horse with some quirks, talk to me. Obviously, there will be full disclosure of all vet records etc. Nobody needs surprises.

I'm not quitting horses and there will be another eventually, but my #1 priority is finding Courage the right place.

And once more, his stupid name is strangely relevant.

Courage

Hoofprints

Courage has been in my life for more than three years now. I blogged before about how that's the longest I've ever had a horse and he and I are definitely still sorting out our relationship. But if you've read this blog, I venture that you've picked up on the rather-dramatic quality our partnership has entailed. 

bridle shot

Just in the last six months, something has finally clicked for us. He's finally become the one my dreams are made on and the one I can't wait to see.

And now, something weird has started happening to me.

<3

I rarely dream at night and if I do, I don't remember it. The only real exception was with Cuna, the horse who had a profound and ongoing impact on my adult life. After I had to put my old man down, I had vivid nightmares for weeks about him. Horrible things. They're still in my head years later. 

But lately, things with Courage have been good. Almost magical. He and I are in this comfortable place where we know what to expect one another and we trust each other.

<3

It's not the relationship I had with Cuna because Courage isn't Cuna, but it's a new and beautiful thing. I've always said that Cuna brought Courage to me, and I've meant it on multiple levels, some cornier than others. I'm in a rough patch in life right now, but Courage is my constant. My steady eddy, as weird as that sounds. 

Whether we work or toodle or lunge or just hang out, he brings a sense of peace to my life. More days than I'm ok with, I just look at his picture on my phone and don't even make it to the barn. 

kinda like what this pic did for me years ago

Then it happened once. Then again.

The Cuna dreams are back, but in a whole different way. Each time it happens, my old man is still alive and living at my favorite barn. I see him, I ride him bareback, and things are as they always were. He's just waiting for me. 

I know it's not real, but I wake up with a strangely serendipitous feeling that everything is alright. 

That which was meant to be, is. 

I Want It.

I don't have crazy aspirations. I never have. Even as a young(ish) kid who rode, when people would ask if I wanted to go to the Olympics, I'd look them in the eye and tell them I couldn't afford it. 

And then I wouldn't worry about it.

I still don't.

I'm not going to the Olympics. Ever.

I'm okay with that. I don't need outside accolades to prove to myself that I'm doing the best I can.

But things have been going well with Courage lately. I mean, yeah, I can only actually get on him about every other day on account of some stuff we're working through, but when I can get on, he's very, very good.

And this stupid idea keeps kicking around the back of my head.

"I want to do Grand Prix".

It's a stupid idea.

It's so dumb.

It's expensive.

It's hard.

It's elitist.

I'm an average rider. I do not have great means. At this point, I am not willing to sell my body and soul as a working student to learn what I need.

I'd have to do it like I am, nights and weekends and a shoestring budget.

There are SO MANY REASONS it can't happen.

For starters, I can't afford it. The best chance of success would be a fancy warmblood, a stall at a fancy training barn, and multiple lessons a week. I have none of those.

Nexties, Courage is 11 now. We haven't even competed at first level yet.

Neither of us is God's Gift to Dressage. At all.

I mean, the only thing going for us is the fact that one clinician one time told me that not only could I get my bronze medal on him, but there was "no reason he couldn't get silver and gold too. He has three correct gaits."

Well, that and a saddle that fits.

So I guess there are two things going for us.

It's a stupid goal. It's not even a clever dream. It's unrealistic, out of reach, and downright pretentious. It's probably the most common goal in the entire horse world and hardly anyone ever achieves it.

To think that some silly, flabby, uninspired and completely average adult ammy could take an older, pressure-averse OTTB gelding to Grand Prix.

Right? It's laughable.

But it won't go away.

I don't even know enough to know why we can't make it. I just know that there's this gaping chasm of knowledge and skill and ability (and talent and time and aptitude) and I haven't the foggiest idea who to even ask to find out how to cross it and get to that silly dream so that they can tell me no in the first place.

He's too old. I'm too poor. Neither of us is fancy enough. It's silly. It's dumb. I'm eminently practical and this goal is the opposite of that.

But you know what else? We also have a good, local recognized show, so for once, travel wouldn't be an obstacle.

That makes three things going for us.

Horsemanship, Relationships, and Success: A Closer Look

Alyssa came out and took some BEAUTIFUL pictures of Courage and I the other day.

right? how did she do this in an indoor??

Well let's back up.

First level is stressing me out. Mostly in a good way, but it's there. Even with an indoor, it's hard to ride in the winter. It's impossible to be consistent, and 85% of the time, I'm more concerned with relaxation than actually doing anything interesting (though when I word it that way, it actually seems like a good thing).

we've come a long ways in two years

I am a very driven, motivated person, especially with a big goal and a deadline staring me in the face. That makes it hard to accept that three days a week, I just toodle around the indoor on the buckle and chat with friends to give Courage a physical and mental break. I want to just WORK WORK WORK GIT 'ER DONE all day every day to super-extra-double guarantee that we don't embarrass ourselves at shows this year.

But I can't.

My horse would go nuts.

More importantly, I'd burn both of us out and change riding from a hobby that I enjoy to an all-consuming task that isn't fun for anyone.

And no one wants that, really.

So when Alyssa came out and took some beautiful pictures of us the other day, it was an amazing reminder of what I'm building with Courage. Not just pie-in-the-sky goals. Not just a vehicle to chase an arbitrary award from a bureaucratic organization that really is just in it for the money. That isn't what first attracted me to horses. If and when we achieve it, that won't be the pinnacle of why I'm here. I came to horses because I want more.

A relationship with a living being.

A partnership between predator and prey.

A subversion of the natural order of things in a way so simple and beautiful that it defies explanation.

Horses bring out that which is most in us--cruel people are made crueler and kind people are made kinder, all from the influence of the horse. They are a breathing thousand-pound microscope highlighting all that which is strongest in us.

And to me, the most and dearest and best thing is that relationship, that partnership. Not the awards. Not the satin. Not the glory.

It's going into his stall and breathing in the essential aura of horse. It's knowing that despite our disparate backgrounds--predator vs prey--centuries of blue blood vs middle class girl from nowhere--we can come together and be something more than just the sum of ourselves.

Something indefinably beautiful, even if only to ourselves.

I know everyone else sees a stiff old warhorse, a washed-up racehorse, a lower level dressage horse that's never going to "amount" to anything. He's a failed event horse. A creature too difficult for the average ammy and too old and plain to interest top talent.

That's not what I see. To me, Courage has become one of the most beautiful and amazing horses to ever grace the planet. I see the fanciest horse I've ever been lucky enough to call mine. I see soft brown eyes and a fighting spirit. A worthy partner. A fellow creature who challenges me to be the very best version of myself, every single day. He's someone who pushes me. Someone who makes me try. Someone who reminds me every day that success isn't counted in year-end points or national awards or public recognition.

Success is waking up every day and being proud of who I am. Proud of who I'm becoming. Success is doing all the hard work behind the scenes that no one will ever see or appreciate to create the groundwork of the person that I've always wanted to be. Success is going to bed at night satisfied with the life I lived that day.

Success is so much more than horse shows.

I still want my bronze medal. I'm still going to panic about not being ready and if I'm good enough and if I've trained Courage correctly and ALL the minutiae that's tied up in this silly sport of ours.

But if we never show again, never garner another ridiculously overpriced piece of $2 satin, I already know I've achieved everything I came here for.

everything.

Teach Me Tuesday: Living the Dream

I'm really very lucky. I don't generally think of myself that way because I have a hearty helping of Murphy's law to go with it, but I remember laughing with redheadlins and Alyssa this summer as we struggle-bused our way through our first derby of the year (ok, Lindsey and I struggle-bused and Alyssa dominated). Whatever happened that day, we were living out our little horse-girl dreams:

We had beautiful thoroughbreds. Pretty show tack and clothes. Friends to ride with. Dreams to chase.

It didn't matter that I got 120 time penalties on xc (because yes, they do time ground poles. oops.). All that mattered in that moment was my thorough realization that I had achieved everything my young self always wanted.

So teach me this Tuesday--what childhood dreams have you achieved?

On Arriving

The whole time I evented as both a teenager and an adult, I was always trying to move up. I didn't really care to what level--I just wanted to get above Beginner Novice, because I wanted to be one step better than the lowest division. I want to feel like I didn't just have my toe in the door, but like I sort of belonged.

at least I got a water picture

It was never meant to be--as a kid, I couldn't afford to join USEA, which you had to do to go Novice, and as an adult, I had an unsuitable horse (Izzy) and then one that went lame just as I regained my confidence (Cuna). There's a part of me that's glad I don't event anymore, because it's weird to tell people "yeah, I've done this since I was a kid and I still can't get past the level you start at".

becoming a team

I think that's what drives me with Courage. I hate telling people I do dressage when my only scores are at intro and training level. Sure, it's "technically" dressage and I know it's a stage we all have to go through, but I want to be better than that. I want to do a level with a number. I want to do things that the average rider who doesn't do dressage can't just pop into the show ring and do as well. You know?

we even lunge now

It's not that I need to go FEI to be personally fulfilled or even that I have have a goal past third level. I don't. I just want to be a Dressage Rider and have that term mean something more than "my saddle is black with long flaps". I want it to mean that I sit on my horse and his way of going is different because of me. That I attend an event and I belong, because I not only speak the language to other people, but to my horse as well.

someday

I do love that dressage doesn't intentionally institutionally demean it's lower level constituency by calling it "novice" and "training", when it should be called "legit hard stuff". "First level" at least sounds mildly cooler, right? I want to do hard things well enough. I want to ride a level with a number. I want to have a place in the horse world to call my own.

one step at a time

I want to arrive in my own quiet way, take a seat in the back, and know that I'm in the right place. The place where I belong.

right here

CHAMPIONS (like, for real)

best banquet EVAR

Brace yourselves for a picture overload! Saturday was our local dressage/eventing GMO banquet. They released all the dressage/eventing award winner names in advance, but the derby competitors (me) were kept secret.

Naturally, I've spend the past month obsessing about whether my scores would get reported correctly and if my membership was in good standing and basically anything I could think of that could go wrong. It was pretty nerve-wracking.

ribbon at rest

But then, they called my name at the banquet and I was probably the most excited person there when I ran (literally) up to get my giant ribbon. And maybe squealed.

You guys.

This thing is HUGE. It is literally the biggest ribbon I have ever seen, and it's MINE. :-D

It was a really fun night for a lot of reasons (guess who also won TWO LESSONS in the raffle?! I never win stuff!!). It was really awesome to have my horsie besties and the trainers who have made a huge impact in my life be there for it.

YARDS OF SATIN

Our GMO is really a fun group of people and I'm excited about their plans for next year. League shows? More ribbons? Sign me up!

Honestly? The sheer glory of my enormous champion ribbon (of ground poles) is making me seriously consider a run at crossrails next year. I'd have to be really good at budgets for that to work though. Don't hold your breath.

Anyways.

Because I am a proper grown up, I scooted out to the barn on Sunday, ribbon in tow, to show my barn buddies and take some pictures.

I'm shameless. What can I say?

i love this

Here's the thing: it has always been a bucket-list level item for me to win a year and award. This year was a unique opportunity in terms of shows available, horse ready to go, and money available to show. I've never been able to be consistently "good" at something before, and since our goals for next year very likely involve a lot less satin and a lot more competing against fancy horses and solid riders, well, I'm going with it.

I know it's only ground poles and intro b. But you know what? I'm a working adult ammy with one horse. I am coming back from an XC wreck that completely ruined my confidence. I'm riding an older horse off the track that I made myself.

champion. yes.

Yeah, I may not be a Rolex contender or a national competitor and hell, I don't even have plans to do any real eventing, but you know what?

This was my Olympics. My thing. My competition and goals for the year.

AND MY RIBBON IS SO HUGE.

I am a total satin ho. Love it. Can't get enough.

the biggest ribbon

This ribbon is legitimately big enough that I don't know what I'm going to do with it. I mean, every ribbon Courage has ever won is hanging over my kitchen window AND THIS RIBBON PRACTICALLY HANGS INTO THE SINK.

It's glorious.

You doubt? Not to worry. It may have been fricking cold and gusting 30mph+ on Sunday, but I hustled Courage into the indoor and took SO MANY PICTURES.

What goes with a sparkle saddle? EVERYTHING

Why yes you do need perfect wraps to take ribbon pictures

ribbon clear down to his knees

ok this might be excessive, but his neck looks good

we are equally thrilled

Pardon my excitement--this is my first time with a tri-color ribbon ever. It's everything I ever wanted it to be--a tangible reminder of all the blood, sweat, tears, and luck that go into making a successful partnership.

A reason that all those hard days, crappy rides, long hours, personal struggles, and tedious times are worth working through.

I don't ride for the ribbons, because so much of horsemanship is developing character through rotten luck, crappy circumstances, and things going wrong. If I set my self worth on satin earned, I would have had to quit a long time ago.

But when I do get a satin forget-me-not, it makes the journey that much sweeter.