Sunday, 9/13, 5 a.m. My throat is scratchy. My nose is running. My head is spinning. This is not looking good.
But I’ve got clients at a show at Morven Park where, thank goodness, it is GORGEOUS out. So I take my zinc and my decongestant and I log a day’s work. But by the end of the day, things are a little grim. This head cold has been making its way around, and its victims are reporting that it’s a few days of misery, followed by a lingering hacking cough. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I go to bed early…
Monday, 9/14…and I stay there, but for a brief foray out into the world to work Ella in hand a little bit; she needs to work, having spent the weekend going out in her field and going in our fantastic exerciser twice a day. She, of course, piaffes and passages beautifully in hand, and makes me smile. She’s a wonderful girl.
Tuesday, 9/15, 6 a.m. I work Dorian and Danny, but I feel so wretched my staff send me home. Ella has the day off, as I’d planned, and I rally to work a full afternoon of riding three at my friend Sharon White’s, teaching a few more of her folks, then heading home to teach a few more.
10 p.m. Yeah, that was dumb. Back to bed I go.
Wednesday, 9/16, 6 a.m. I am up. I am packed. I am really, really medicated and really, really caffeinated. And I am on my way to the barn.
6:04 a.m. Left my jog clothes at home. NOW I am on my way to the barn.
7:00 a.m. Ella, all our stuff, a giant box of Puffs Plus with Lotion, one more cup of coffee and I are on the road!
10:45 a.m. Realization: I’ve left my musical freestyle CDs at home.
12:55 p.m. Me: “I’m making great time, should be there at 3. What time are you getting there?”
Michael: “I live here.”
Me: “You’ve moved to Saugerties?”
Michael: “Why would I have moved to Saugerties?”
(cue a few minutes of “Who’s On First?”-esque confusion.)
Michael: “Oh. I thought you were coming to my farm. If you’re at the show, then you’re on your own today.”
Me: “No problem. I’ll be fine on my own!” (Proceed to panic.)
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1 p.m. It should go without saying that I have a flat tire.
2:50 p.m. Blindly following my GPS, I find myself in downtown Saugerties. With its cute, teeny weenie streets. In my 30-foot-long Jamco. Lord.
3:06 p.m. We arrive at the showgrounds, safely and soundly! We unload! Ella settles in! We go for a very spicy but uneventful walk around, and I feel great about how much horse I have! I find a Staples so I can get blank CDs on which to burn my freestyle music! And I collapse into a Mucinex-induced stupor at 7 p.m.
Thursday, 9/16, 9 a.m. I have fed, watered, cleaned, groomed and walked my horse. Now what?
Cue my first epiphany of the weekend—I’m going to need some coping mechanisms for these CDIs. I haven’t been at a show, stabled overnight and away from home and the whole shebang, with just ONE HORSE, and NO CLIENTS, in probably 10 years. I know a few things about myself, and one of them is that idleness does not become me, and neither does being left alone with just my thoughts.
By the time the Barisone Dressage folks arrive in the afternoon, I’ve worked myself into a pretty good lather. I’m here, I’m all alone, I’m embarking on the first step of the biggest, baddest, scariest journey of my dressage career, and I’m one of those people that’s normally really got it together, so NOT having it together makes me feel even more squigged out ABOUT not having it together.
Fortunately, Ella is completely impervious to my insanity, and schools beautifully.
5:30 p.m. Ella is not impervious to the drama of the vet jog, and when the horse scheduled to jog in front of us gets loose and tears around the complex for a while, I return Ella to the safety of the barn, and then nearly miss our time to jog once he’s caught.
5:31 p.m. I am regretting no longer running for fitness.
But we survive, we pass, Ella looks like a million bucks due to some unbelievable products from Shapley’s (if you don’t have Hi Shine shampoo and Hi Gloss finishing spray in your grooming box, you’re doing it wrong), I have tacos with Michael and his team, and I can actually taste the tacos, the first time I’ve been able to taste food since the weekend before. Things are looking up!
Friday, 9/17, 2 p.m. I had the good sense to get off the showgrounds all morning, once I’d done my morning chores. I drove to the neighboring town of Woodstock (super cute, go check it out if you’re in the area) and just wandered around, had breakfast, did a little very, very early Christmas shopping, and generally amused myself.
But now that I’m on Ella, I’m not feeling it. I’m on too early. I’m not feeling prepared. I do the things I normally do in the warm-up, but I’m not consequent enough. I don’t make myself make Ella sharp. I don’t make myself tell Ella to carry herself. And while the first half of the test goes OK, not as good as I can make it but OK, she gets spooky and sucked back in the second half, spooking at the lines in the footing from the drag. We make a complete hash of the zig-zag, and miss a few ones, completely uncharacteristic mistakes.
I’m pretty crushed. We’d been doing so well all season, at our little local shows, winning our little local things. I thought I had a plan. I thought I was ready for this.
I mope around for a while, feeling horribly embarrassed, and then I go and get my test sheet.
First of all, you know what happens when you completely blitz a canter half pass zig-zag, and then miss a few ones? You get 2-4 for the zig zag, and 4 on the ones, both of which are coefficient movements. Had I done them both with mediocrity (and I usually don’t— Ella’s canter tour is pretty reliable) and gotten 6 on both, my score would have increased by almost 3% right off the bat. Add another point or two for the spanking I (deservedly) got on my submission score and we’re at a 65%, which had been what I was expecting.
And then I remember that the last lesson I had on Ella was back in July. JULY. Three months ago! I’ve had great reasons—running all over the place with Kristin, then with my amateur clients, and then the tiny vacation I took, and now not wanting to make Ella tired by taking her up for lessons in the last few weeks, as I prepped for the show. The reason I didn’t feel ready? I wasn’t. I was rusty, slow-witted and absolutely did NOT have my game face on.
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I knew there was no way to get Ella sharper, fitter and more ON overnight, but I could certainly sharpen myself up. So I devised a plan.
Saturday, 9/18, 12 p.m. I did my morning chores, took Ella for a walk, gave her a scratch, and got to work.
I went back to my hotel, and I meditated for a while. I hated it. But I used a guided meditation app that was recommended to me because I’m a terrible sleeper, and it’s going to become a habit, because I emerged feeling pretty darn clear.
I did some yoga. That I did not hate.
I went out to breakfast. I ate chocolate chip pancakes, because I suppose my pity party wasn’t quite over yet, and I really didn’t hate them either, though perhaps as this plan gets more streamlined as the year goes on, it will not feature pancakes. (But they were rather delicious.)
I went through my freestyle test, over and over and over again, even including my warm-up. I reverted back to the warm-up that got me the scores I got at my last show, in Culpeper (71 and 72, and I thought the 71 was robbery, because it was really a very good ride), where I felt Ella was SO sharp and SO on and with me. I put my mind in that arena and visualized every step.
And I rode my bike around the show and, like a dork, found places where no one was around to get off my bike and do some push-ups and jumping jacks.
In short, I burned off the nervous energy, replaced it with some zen (and pancakes), and by the time it was time to groom my girl, I actually felt ready.
My shorter warm-up plan worked great. I attacked my warm-up instead of floating through it. I rode my plan, and when Ella wanted to get behind me or lose focus in the ring, I stuck to my plan.
The ride was not perfect, far from it. I know exactly where I’m not yet up to par. I know I need to include more fitness work in her life (which, in my defense, I’d not been doing because I didn’t want to over-train while I got my groove back with her, which I think was the right call, but we’re ready to move on now), and I clearly need to address my own mental game.
But I jacked our scores up by 7% with no technical mistakes between the Grand Prix and the freestyle, and I placed sixth in a class with Olympians, World Games competitors, and some of the very best North America has to offer.
One of the judges’ comments from the Grand Prix was spot on: “A learning ride.” She nailed it. I learned a lot this weekend, including, among other things, how much I have left to learn.
But you know what? I like learning. And I really like my horse and my coaching team.
Sunday, 9/19, 7 a.m. Ella and I are on our way home. And I’m keeping a pen and paper next to me while I drive, making notes, planning my schedule for the next three months—all the lessons, the clinics, who will be there with me at shows, to call my vets to talk to them about maybe going high-tech in Ella’s conditioning work. My hair’s on fire. NOW I’m ready to get ready!
