Answering the Nagging Questions

I've gotten a lot of questions about our latest round of show-fail, so here's my stab at addressing them in a more or less coherent way. I'm doing this in the most dickish way possible by interviewing myself. Questions are compiled from various sources and not exact questions from any one person.

Q) How do you feel about Courage now?
A) About the same. I've put a lot into him. I believe in him. I was disappointed and sad for a day, but failures are going to happen and I still have to move on. He's still cute, I'm still here, and we're going to figure this out.

Q) Does he have X vet problem?
A) Last I checked, vets had to actually physically check horses for problems (vs think about them on the internet) and to be a vet, they had to attend some sort of "schooling". I dunno. Never wanted to be a vet, so never looked into it. Regardless, I think medical advice needs to come from medical professionals. Either you assume that I am a good horse owner and deal with my horse responsibly or you assume that I am a shitty horse owner and don't. Either way, I generally don't take medical advice from strangers on the internet. I'd say you shouldn't either, but then I'd just be making a funny meta joke.

TRUST DR CHIWEENIE HE IS SO QUALIFIED

Q) How is this any different than the Hellmare?
A) If you've been around here long enough (YEARS), you might remember the Hellmare. She was actually remarkably physically similar to Courage if you disregard their plumbing. Well, that and the fact that she was pure evil. Courage has OPINIONZ. Izzy would actively try to kill me. I realize that might look the same to an outsider (or if I'm not writing well), but it works out to the difference between Courage letting me slide back in the tack after an incident and Izzy jamming me face-first into a rocky field because I was SLIGHTLY off balance. Intent is how they're different. Intent matters.

Q) Are you going to sell him?
A) No.  Even if I wanted to, which I don't, it would look something like this: for sale: older busted-up ex-racehorse with no professional training and no useful skills. Prone to bolting, leaping, and expressing himself. Not talented enough for pro, way too much for most ammies, doesn't take kindly to kids, not a jumper, hates trails. NO ONE BUYS THAT.

Q) Aren't you a terrible person because your training philosophy is slightly different then mine?
A) Of all the reasons I might be a terrible person, I wouldn't put this one that high on the list. YMMV.

I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and say that it's all butterflies and roses. It's not. I was really upset. Because I have a long, LONG junior career of being really terrible at shows, I can't say it's an unfamiliar feeling, which probably helped me rebound faster.

junior me would be so jealous

she couldn't even

I'll also admit that I was pretty damn jealous of the kid bopping around on the haffie pony while Courage flipped his shit, but then that ended right when the pony dirty bucked it's kid off and galloped loose through the warm up.

So here's the thing: horses are horses and from time to time, they're going to horse in ways we don't like. That's true whether you ride Valegro, Courage, my beloved Paddykins, a European Sex God, or a mule. The important thing is be sure that when you have those moments, you can deal with them.

mostly i deal by taking pictures

People with more means than myself can pay trainers to fix the bad parts, but I need to be able to ride through them. With Courage, I can (so far) handle it myself. He's athletic and can be a bit nutty, but he's never out to hurt me intentionally. I know what his range of reactions are, and I'm reasonably comfortable with them.

So yeah. I could try to get something else, but no horse is perfect and frankly, I like the the one I have.

most of the time anyways

Winning, Losing, and Riding: Thoughts From a Former Kid

I recently ran across a personal situation in which a kid was pursuing a complex sport that the parents knew next to nothing about. The situation reminded me strongly of my own childhood, so I wrote a note to the parents in hopes it would help them clarify the situation, their roles, and what was in it for their child.

unrelated attractive pic

********

1) There's nothing wrong with being hands off as a parent. 

To this day, my dad doesn't know what color/gender/type of horse I had or even really what we did with it. He and mom made sure I got where I needed to be when I needed to be there, but it was on me to arrange transportation for my horse, make sure I had the correct equipment, was adequately prepared, and knew what forms to get to what people. 

This was hard for me. I was a really shy kid, and it terrified me to call people in my club each week to ask for horse hauling. The net result was that I learned to develop working relationships with adults who could help me. I learned to network and find creative options. I learned to be grateful for the kind people who were willing to help me, and I learned how to verbalize what I needed and when I needed it. 

2) There's nothing wrong with losing. 

This is one of the most important lessons. Whether or not I was a good rider at home, I wasn't a particularly good rider at horse shows, especially at first. Part of that was riding borrowed horses, part of that was not having much show experience, part of that was nerves. I lost a lot. I lost in horribly public and humiliating ways. I not only got disqualified in all the usual ways, I invented new and creative ways to lose. 

I have lost far more horse shows than I have ever won. I learned far more from losing than I ever did from winning. Losing taught me that preparation is everything. Losing taught me that life isn't fair. Losing taught me that no matter how embarrassing and horrible a loss was, the sun still rises and life goes on. Losing taught me to be humble. Losing taught me how to empathize with people who struggle. Losing taught me to take what I'm handed and keep on trying, no matter what. 

Winning feels good, but feeling good isn't really something most of us need a lot of practice at.

shake it off

3) Preserve your relationship with your kid.

As I mentioned, my parents knew nothing about my sport of choice. I'll probably never forget the day my mom tried to rush me getting ready for a lesson and put my saddle on backwards right when my instructor walked around the corner. Thanks mom. ;-) I really appreciated my non-horsey parents though. In my observation, the parents who knew the sport forwards and backwards were frequently the parents that sabotaged their own relationships with their children. 

My mom knew to pack food, sit here, and not talk to me before classes (I knew to be polite and keep my distance when I felt stressed). My dad learned how to memorize courses and talk me through them before my classes so I wouldn't miss basic things. Beyond that, they were hands off and we were stronger for it. They didn't pick at me, share my stress, or try to control me. They knew I was prepared and they were there to cheer for me (loudly and inappropriately, always), make sure I was fed, and be supportive, no matter what. 

It was important that they were there. One of my clearest memories is at one of my worst horse shows ever--I'd fallen off TWICE in front of everyone. I was hurting and humiliated and disqualified and I wanted to pack up and go home. My Dad came up to me privately while I sat on the (hateful) horse in tears and wanted to sink through the ground. He told me that he didn't care if I ever rode well or ever sat on a horse again after that day. Life was bigger than horse shows. He cared about what kind of person I was and no matter what, I couldn't quit right then. I could quit tomorrow. I could quit next week. But that day, no matter what, I had to finish what I had started. 

He was right. I finished. It was horrible. It was years before I ever won anything and it wasn't until my adult life that I was really any good at much. I'm still not great at riding, but I 100% know that I am a stronger, better person for what I learned through participating (and losing) at sports as a kid.  

My dad still can't tell you what color/gender/type of horse I ride and that doesn't matter. The character lessons I learned from losing and trying anyways mattered far, far more to me in every aspect of my life than winning ever did. 

*******

Hoarders: Tack Trunk Edition

Most of you saw and/or participated in the "what's in your tack trunk" blog hop that was going around. Y'all had tidy little inventories of useful things and it was cute.

I was over here like "I have no goddamn clue what's in that giant abyss and I don't really want to find out". As Lindsey can tell you, I've been promising to go through it for like... a month. And hadn't. Oh and yes, it was/is my daily driver. I'd just sort of sit on the lid to squish it down and latch it each day.

But due to some unforeseen circumstances the other day,  I finally had time to go through it. Here's what I found:

bridle rack above

jumbled mess below

 I tried to make a bet with friends that there were 8+ sets of polos in there, but no one would take those odds.

stuff

This photo shows 7 full sets of polos in various states of cleanliness. There are also 3 pairs of polos and there was another full set ready for put on C-rage. That doesn't include two full sets of bandage liners or two full sets of boots.

I also had:

two sad pairs of bell boots

Two whips and a lunge line

eight bonnets

Plus there was this pile:

STUFF

So yeah, that's a quarter sheet, saddle cover, ogilvy pad, mattes shims, and you can just see the tboots. All good things, but possibly not things that actually fit in said trunk. This list actually isn't comprehensive. I had my CO sparkle helmet in a bag with a spare hat and gloves, plus my beater Ovation helmet and winter gloves, plus a couple of mismatched gloves and of course my brush box.

In my defense, I cleaned out the brush box a few weeks back to make room for fancy new brushes, so that part actually wasn't terrible.

I took everything out of the trunk, sorted it by whether it needed to be thrown away, given away, washed and put away, or washed and brought back. Then I threw away the trash, anonymously shoved shit to give away in barnmates' stuff, and tossed the other piles in the back of my car.

WE MUST REBUILD.

Obviously, an empty trunk helps no one, so it was time to start over. 

all I need is one cooler HAHAHA no

Here you see the bottom section of the carefully restocked tack trunk.

That's better

We started with a cooler, then added in the fancy CO for clinics and spur-of-the-moment photoshoots, included the tack cleaning kit (oh yeah, that was in there too), stowed the "bad boy" halter, the lunge line, and a dressage whip. My full set of DSBs (the only acceptable princess boot), one set of liners, and one clean-ish set of polos (much preferred to DSBs), and my mattes half pad. 

And look at that. You can still see open space in case I need to add something else. I do plan to keep two sets of polos and liners in there eventually, but laundry needs to happen first. 

 Add in the brush box and life is looking good.

o0o0o0o0o

 A couple caveats here--Courage's blankets live in an oversized rubbermaid tub outside his stall. You can barely see my wash bucket in the bottom right corner of the picture above--it also doesn't live in the trunk. I have an extensive horse-shit-organization system at home in my garage (which it looks like I'll be going through and cleaning asap).

Oh and I cleaned ALL the leather tack at the barn and reorganized. Now it looks like this:

three bridles, one martingale, one drop

I will admit that it's rather refreshing to actually know what I have around. Plus maybe now I look less like a hoarder? Just try not to think about how all that shit is now somewhere else. (such as in my car. hush you.)

Learning Lessons: Personal Problems

Once upon a time, I was bitching about how complicated and sensitive my horse was.

Fellow blogger Lauren (who also has a bay OTTB gelding) was like:

don't worry--she approved this graphic

And she's not wrong. Courage is a very challenging horse who pushes me to my absolute limits with complete impunity. It's maddening. The worst part is that I know the things that drive me crazy aren't training issues. They're his freaking personality and that's not going to change. The histrionics and theatrics and flailing is just who he is.

Which is why Lauren said what she said.

And she's right.

remember when short sleeves were a thing

Here's the thing. Last year, I took an accounting class and blogged about how it challenged me and how that helped me understand Courage. That class sucked the soul out of me. I did hundreds of hours worth of work, struggled and clawed for every inch, and when the semester wrapped up, I was profoundly, deeply satisfied with my grade.

This year, I'm taking another class. Different instructor. It's stupid easy so far. It's so easy that I sit in class and do my own review sessions from last semester's material and invent problems BECAUSE I'M BORED. It's not that it's a bad class. It's fine. It just doesn't challenge me and I get zero satisfaction from it.

And that is the problem with me.

think WAY back

I sort of think that's why I was so happy jumping Cuna and yet can't convince myself it's fun on Courage. Cuna was the most incredible horse OF ALL TIME. He and I thought the same about everything. So while we had our disputes (occasionally), in general, we were challenged by the jumping to constantly improve.

And Cuna was good at jumping and terrible at dressage. Let's face it: I jumped 3'3"-3'6" on Cuna and had a blast, but when he did the TEST OF HIS LIFE it was training level at a dressage show and we got a 64. Courage got a 67 and I was like "hm good but I know we can do better".

basically a unicorn

So when JenJ is like "I'm riding this fantastic horse who like Does What He is Told and doesn't need to Express His Opinions on Life, the Universe, and Everything", I'm really a little bit jealous. I don't know what that's like. Then I jump to "it must be heaven" then immediately "I want one" and then riiiiiiight before I start horse shopping, I remember that I already HAVE a horse.

this horse

 And while he drives me crazy and pushes me to my limits some days, the truth is that I'm a person who pathologically NEEDS to be challenged in order to excel. I crave it. I chase it. I blunder right past the easy stuff, grab what looks impossible and say "this one".

Over and over.

We can argue all day about what a challenge looks like and I freely admit that just because your horse is less explosive or emotional or argumentative than mine is, it doesn't mean that your horse is somehow less challenging (or more, but god help you if so). It just means that Courage is my challenge.

I like riding him. I look forward to seeing him. I like how his face looks in my bridles.

so classic

Someday I hope he's this super-trained mega-fantastic fancy-ass dressage horse that little girls are jealous of, but even if he never is, he's my horse and I like him.

With all his challenges.

Barn Friends are the Best Friends

I blame JenJ for getting my culturally irrelevant self started on the Justice Crew. I had a pretty kickass weekend--fun with pony friends, sportsball, breeder's cup, bollywood... I like weird stuff. (Anyone want to watch Quantico?)

Anyways. This song struck a chord with me.


In case you hate videos, happiness, or music (not judging), here's a breakdown of the lyrics with vastly-improved visuals. 

At the end of the day

Some you win, some you don’t

So I’m glad that I’m here

With some friends that I know

Always there with a smile

Saying you’re not alone

Singing la la la la

Que sera

(Here we go, yo)

Yesterday is history (oh)

You gotta get through it

Tomorrow is a mystery

So let’s just do it

And even when the rain falls

You and I will stand tall

No matter what you go through

I’ll never leave you

So you gotta be strong (strong)

Live by the words of the song (song)

Together is where we belong (long)

Never stop dreaming

Keep holding on

I may be a grown ass adult with a real job and life responsibilities and hard stuff (tm) to sort through, but my constant has been the friends I make in the barn. I think the massive responsibility of caring for a thousand+ pound animal makes for the most kind, caring, hilarious, understanding and mature friends a girl could ask for.

I'm incredibly lucky to have the friends that I do, and I always know they'll be there to back me up in a crisis, talk me off the ledge, celebrate my victories, and cry with me when I lose. And I know that, because I'm there for them the exact same way. 

So here's to barn friends, new and old. I'd be sunk without them.