Elemental

I wore jeans and cowboy boots to ride the other night.

In my dressage saddle.

ZB wasn't wearing the latest matching outfit. She didn't even have front boots on. Her mane hangs below her neck now.

She's not blanketed.

She's not clipped.

I'm focused on developing the horse I have in front of me. She's not fit, but she's smart and she's fun and she learns things very quickly.

All kinds of things.

What's the practical application of teaching her to kick a giant ball? Literally nothing.

What's the practical application of encouraging her to use her naturally inquisitive personality and food motivation to solve problems and think independently?

Hmmmm a lot.

I'm not trying to build a show horse right now, though that might come. It is so fun to put in the time to build the horse I want to ride. It's not about teaching her to mindlessly zip through a list of tasks. It's not about skipping steps to get to the "fun part".

I want her to be engaged with me.

I want her to think.

I want her to be brave.

I want her to trust that she can achieve what I'm asking her to do.

I want her to try.

Today the "try" is follow the soccer ball and kick it herself.

Tomorrow it might be to find her way through a tricky part of the trail.

The day after, maybe a challenging arena gymnastic.

What fascinates me is how little repetition a horse really needs to understand a concept. All those transitions and hours in the tack help us develop the muscle memory we need and it definitely builds the fitness a horse needs to feel strong and confident in a long, challenging test.

The horse doesn't need them to learn.

If Zoe does something well and I drop the reins and say "good girl", she doesn't need to do it again.

I can leave it alone for 6 months, come back, and it's still there.

It's not about cowboy boots and jeans or breeches and a hairnet.

It's about learning together.

Horse Show Numbers are (gasp!) Declining

There are a couple articles swirling around "the socials" right now about the decline in participation at USEF horse shows.

The mind, she is boggled!

Or like.

Not.

#baller

One of the posts I saw was written by a thoughtful local pro who I have a lot of respect for, so I wrote the following:

"It’s been years since I’ve taken a horse in the show ring and if I get back to it, I don’t see myself joining organizations and showing rated. The cost is so high and the competitor experience is not great. Why would I spend hundreds of dollars to wear white spandex for a couple minutes and sweat my ass off only to be told that my safe, appropriate horse isn’t as fancy as a much fancier horse?

I find my competitive outlets other places and while I enjoy my horse, I have no interest in getting back to showing."

There was a lot of discussion, but another person came back with two things:

1. Amateurs are too fixated on winning
2. Amateurs who aren't winning blame their non-fancy horse instead of their own poor riding

I'd like to discuss these responses just a little. 

1. Winning fixation-as the other poster illustrated, people run 5ks with no expectation of ever winning. Why should they expect to win at dressage? 

Let's talk about this a little. 

Running is a sport with a very low barrier of entry financially. You can do it with things you already have around the house. You can spend a lot or you can spend a little. For the sake of discussion, let's focus on the full-time worker who runs nights and weekends for fun and does 5-10 5ks a year. 

They pay $30-100 to run a race. At that race, they can wear anything they feel like running in (barefoot in shorts and a sports bra? fine. designer shoes, olympic branded gear, heart rate monitor? equally fine.) They get a tech fabric shirt, a finisher medal, post-race snacks, and frequently a meal or beverage. There's a start time and every participant can set objective time goals and work towards them. 

If their friends or family want to come watch, there is a start time and a published route. Cheering and participation is encouraged. If they have plans after, the whole day is typically ahead of them. If the family wants to participate, hey, they can.

• This person will literally never win a 5k unless they are over 70 years old. 
• This person will never appear on the "national running scene".
• This person will have the full running experience, probably including a couple of irritating injuries that will result in a few days away from work over their career

they may get a wild hair and run a half marathon too

And how does horse showing stack up? 

Riding is a sport with a very high barrier of entry. Whether you own or lease, you need a horse. The horse needs to live somewhere. You need appropriate tack and gear for the horse, a way to get the horse to and from competitions, and a bevy of memberships to be allowed at the competitions.

And this is for the nights and weekends rider who wants to do 5-10 shows a year. 

We're going to talk about recognized/rated horse shows since these are the ones squealing about diminished participation. Participants pay $150-500/day in show fees just to the show (not including coaching/stabling/hauling/grooming/schooling/etc). The participant (and the horse) have to wear approved outfits and the person in charge can literally wave around a color wheel and kick a rider out out for being a shade off. If the person wins the horse show, they get a $2-$5 ribbon with no cash value. Maybe a wine glass. If they don't win, hopefully there was a peppermint in the competitor pack that they can suck on. They can try to set individual score goals, but since judging is ultimately subjective and influenced by trends and the class around them, they may or may not meet the goals. (You ride Backyard Betty after Hopfenschnerflgard the Import? -5 for looking worse in comparison. Whoops. Too bad your ride had to be scheduled around multiple trips in the ring for the ammy with 3 imports who's competing in multiple divisions and worth way more money to the show organization than you ever will be!)  

If your friends or family want to come watch, they will have to show up to a multi-hour event that is nearly always behind schedule. They will be subjected to a complicated set of expectations for the horse show spectator and ignored at best, or (likely) mocked, hushed, and glared at for not following the intricate social mores of a rarefied upper class club. If they have plans after, too bad. The event will go all day. If they still want to participate after all that, the barrier of entry is just as high as it was for the first person.

• This person might win a class here and there because hey, participation is declining and sometimes your competition gets the flu!
• This person will never appear on the "national riding scene".
• This person will always know that they aren't a "true equestrian" because their middle class life requires they have a real job and health insurance, which precludes long hours at the barn. 
• This person runs the chance of a catastrophic injury from being around horses which could result in weeks or months away from that all-important job. 

oh hai decently fancy ribbon

TL:DR USEF shows come with very high costs and little to no reward. Running 5ks is much more competitor and spectator friendly. 

2. Non-winning amateurs on affordable horses who ride on nights and weekends and take a weekly lesson should blame their own riding instead of the fact that they got beat by a purpose-bred sport horse that cost more than their house ridden by an-equally motivated amateur who trains 5-7 days a week with the best trainer money can pay for in a sport that literally takes a lifetime to understand.

If you say there isn't a divide here, I don't know what to tell you. It's a money sport. The people who can afford top of the line horses, get more show ring experience, and ride with better pros are not less motivated than you are and yup, they're going to beat you every out. 

And they should. They literally paid for the privilege.

They're better than you (at this sport). A lot of them are great humans and they work hard at it and that's nothing to be ashamed of. 

i'm being a dik dik again

There's not a whoooooole lot of point in paying money to go get your subjectively-judged ass handed to you to the tune of your mortgage payment per weekend when you literally don't have a chance. (Unless you're short on wine glasses? Even then I feel like amazon prime might be a better shot if you want a matched set.) 

So yeah. If you want to be blamed for not having enough money to compete in a moneysport that's literally populated by the Eve Jobs, Jennifer Gates, and Georgina Bloombergs of the world, I mean, there's always USEF shows! 

Sound off, internet. Why am I wrong?

Changes

 Once upon a time, I was a super good equestrian with goals and metrics and measurables and I took all the lessons and went all the places and lived and breathed horses. 

can you even with how cute she is

I am not that right now.

Last year, I really struggled with horses and riding because I cannot sink that kind of time and energy into so I cannot ride at the level that I am accustom. Which means. Riding isn't competitive. It's supposed to be fun. Fun is great I guess but there are a lot of cheaper ways to have fun.

Plus like.

If you've ever been pretty good at something and then you're not so good at it and when you're doing it, you know the problem is you and you can't fix it?

It's hard to want to keep doing it. 

even at her shaggy moose-i-est

But see.

I've had a lot of horses and been around a lot more.

And I know that she's the sort of horse you only meet once or maaaaaybe twice in a lifetime, if you're very lucky.

trot 2 circles. jump like whoa. toodle bareback.

Sinking the time and money into shows and clinics right now sounds completely asinine to me. 

Developing a well-mannered, confident and happy all-around horse is always in good taste though. 

And do you know how I develop an all around horse? 

I do all the things.

This Was Unexpected

You guys. The weirdest thing happened. 

I wanted to ride my horse. 

Not in like the sort of abstract "I miss the way it used to feel when I was competent" that is pretty normal, but in like a concentrated "I'm going to put my pants on and go mess with my horse in the cold tonight" sort of way. 

baseline. zero fitness, 100% yak hair.

With everything going on in life, I have not felt that way in a while. One of the biggest life skills I've been focusing on is just letting things be and not constantly trying to fix everything. Since I haven't felt like riding, I haven't ridden. 

We did take really cute Christmas pictures. I've been out to toodle around bareback and pet her nose and drop off checks. She's been good, don't get me wrong, but I was definitely starting to see the little things that meant she needed more. A little rude on the ground, a little sluggish on her back. Plus, every time I saw her, I was kind of rushed and going through the motions.

Gee, correlation much? 

I'm getting that familiar itch to ride and train and (haha) shop for pony things again. We're starting slow with some much needed ground work and team building time.

I'm excited to see where we go. 

Decade in Review

So uh I've been blogging a really long time and even though I wrote less posts this year than I used to write in a month, blogging still brought some of the greatest people into my life. Because of those people, I present: the decade in review, sprinklerbandits edition.

Here goes:

2010 this looks... way more pleasant than it was

In 2010, I was newly back into riding as an adult amateur. I was fresh out of college and took on a (black 6 year old) spoiled warmblood mare as a project. The goal was eventing, so we did a little of everything.

2011 yeaaaaaah i was completely terrified in this picture

2011 brought lessons and a major wreck and broken bones and moving in with a trainer and learning that my horse was all wrong for me and then meeting the horse that was so, so right for me.

2012 with this stud

In 2012, everything came together for a few glorious moments. I was in love with a giant red horse and we showed and lessoned and trail rode and played and I'll always remember that time as one of the best ever. <3

2013 this photo always makes me laugh

2013 brought an opportunity to work on the racetrack and meet new (bay) faces. Of course one of those faces came home with me.

2014 this one time we looked competent haha

It's weird to me that 2014 was five years ago. I quit my job at the barn (s), started being an adult with a career, lost my beloved Cunafish, and had some high highs and low lows with Courage.

2015 because Alyssa is the actual best

In 2015, I was determined to make showing happen. We went to every. single. show. at the lowest level available and I won this giant ribbon that I'm still proud of, haha. Good friends and fun adventures and yeaaaaah apparently you can get eliminated by refusals in a ground poles class. Now you know.

2016 football and dressage 

By 2016, I finally figured out that I should quit jumping C. Then I quit a lot more things. This picture is probably his best dressage moment ever and he looks so damn sexy and he so wasn't happy and I wasn't happy and things were about to fall apart real hard.

2017 a steampunk princess

Basically the only thing that went right in 2017 was getting a baby percheron mare that wasn't even started under saddle. Courage found an incredible new home, I made career changes, and Alyssa took some of my favorite photos of all time.

2018 when one photo is your whole year

2018 accelerated the changes that had been rumbling. My personal life fell apart while my professional life took off and my constant was my curvy baby mare. I took about 4 lessons and never went to a horse show.

2019 a whole new perspective

I spent most of 2019 getting on my feet and my beloved ZB had to take a back seat while I sorted things out.

I'm rolling in to 2020 with a black 6 year old mare and a whole new perspective on life, the universe, and everything, haha. I still have a someday goal of a bronze medal, a shorter-term goal of organizing a horse-soccer team at my barn, and an every-day goal of becoming a better human and horseman in whatever direction we go.

I wouldn't hold your breath for horse show domination this year, but maybe we'll take some lessons and get back on the bus.

Courage: The Aftermath

I saw Courage the other day.

creeper status

Teresa was here and we drove past his owner's place. He was out in the field with a buddy. He was as stunning as ever.

The thing that struck me the most was his topline.

on-track thoroughbred

3 years post-track thoroughbred

Courage was short coupled and upright and always SO TIGHT through his neck and back. I became the subject matter expect on suppling the anxious horse who held tension right in front of his withers. We did dressage exercises and trail exercises. I learned to use poles and terrain and lateral work and all kinds of things to help him. 

I did everything I knew how to do. I used all my resources to find new ways to help him. 

He built a fantastic neck for a thoroughbred and had a lot of cool buttons, but he was always .05 seconds away from an up-periscope and hard spin/bolt.

you've all seen enough photos of that so let's look at this adorable smoosh instead

So the other day, I saw Courage for the first time in two years. He's a trail horse now--he'll never have to go in a frame and be under pressure again. He spends most of his days out in a big, grassy pasture.

And after two years, that tension is gone.

He looked like a horse.

Loose.

Comfortable.

yup we're back to zb pictures

It was a strangely harmonious moment for me--not just because a horse I cared about for so long is absolutely thriving, but because of what it meant.

I'm a classic overachiever and so much of the past couple years for me has been learning to let go and accept what happens, even if it's messy.

definitely messy

Letting go of Courage felt like giving up in so many ways.

Both of us are in a better place now because of it.

We were never going to get there and pushing and struggling and training and drilling and trying.

I let him go.

A horse that suited me better came my way.

A series of dominos cascaded that I never could have planned.

Sometimes I ask myself if I fought too hard and tried for too long. If asking that was fair to him. If I should have let go sooner. If I shouldn't have posted those fail photos. If there was something else that would have just made it work. If someone else could have done it better.

If I did him a disservice.

I'll never know.

I know that some people try that hard and go that far and they succeed. I know some horses come back from the brink. They grow into lovely performance horses and their people are applauded for what they accomplished.

But I also know that sometimes they don't. Sometimes the struggle isn't worth it. Sometimes the mountain wasn't meant to be overcome. Sometimes the pasture in the valley really is the destination.

Sometimes, failing is the best thing you can do for both of you.

I failed.

Because of that failure, Courage looks better than he ever has. He's living his best life now and he's free to be the horse I always believed he could be.

Because I failed, I spend my time with the smooshiest baby horse who I absolutely adore. We jump and we trail ride and we toodle and we dressage and we play barbies and we laugh.

I'll never be the person I was before Courage. 

I'll never be able to thank him enough for what he taught me.

2018 Year in Review (aka An Ode to ZB)

There are certain moments that reverberate through the very foundations of your life and break down everything you ever thought you knew.

They are rarely the moments you expect.

Mine was on the back of a Roxiecorn, riding through breathtaking mountains, talking to the sort of friend who isn't afraid to call me on my shit.

I told her about how I consistently choose the same thing in relationships--petulant assholes who treat me badly.

She laughed.

She said, "your picker's broken!"

It was a silly moment in a fun weekend.

I went home.

I let go of the long term relationship I had with a horse that was a bad match for me. I watched both of us blossom as that same friend moved heaven and earth to get me this little black mare.

ermegerd tiny zb!

I learned what it was like to be with a creature that adores me. She's a fucking Disney horse--she canters up to me in the pasture. She whinnies at me every day I come to the barn. She's honest and she's smart and she's kind and she's the best horse I've ever been around, bar none.

<3

Maybe non-horse people won't understand this, but I figure you folks will. There was something so foundational to me about having a relationship like this. Learning that not only was this kind of a connection a thing, but that it could be expected. That I didn't have to take everyone's shit and that I could raise my expectations and get what I needed out of life.

It sort of spiraled from there. 

a much better place

I raised my expectations. 

Drew some hard lines.

Advocated for myself for the first time in my life. 

I lost friends. 

Family. 

My marriage. 

People who were supposed to matter to me walked away. 

baby mare <3

Through it all, there was this larger-than-life baby mare who still whinnied at me every time I came to the barn. 

and yeah everyone should get divorce photos. 10/10 recommend.

My life doesn't look much like it used it--I'm on a single income making things work. I can't fathom going to a horse show or paying $$$ for clinics. About every other month, I do a lot of math and wonder why I need to have a giant eating pooping liability cost me money every day. 

I ride a couple times a week, generally bareback, in the dark, by myself. I don't care about the most perfect movement or moving up the levels or having the best, newest, and coolest things. 

There are things that matter so much more to me.

<3

I've learned so much from the horses in my life--Izzy taught me to be afraid, Cuna taught me to love, Courage still has the most stupidly meaningful name on the planet, and Zoe? 

<3

This little lady gave me more than all the others together.

My life is profoundly different because of who she is. 

and the people who stayed 

This isn't a return to blogging or riding, really. The way horses fit in my life right now is different than it's ever been.

Zoe is my safe space. 

My friend. 

My freedom. 

My anchor.

I have other competitive outlets right now. There's a part of me that resents even the idea of putting pressure or expectations on the creature that changed my world in such an enormous way.

She's so much more to me than scores or accomplishments or adventures. I don't need some judge at a horse show to tell me where I'm inadequate or how I don't measure up to their standards.

I really don't care.

the loveliest lady

I love the little moments. 

 The quiet times.

The moments she carried me though.