I galloped around the show jumping ring at the Virginia Horse Trials this weekend with one hand on the neck strap the other hand clutching my bat, expecting at any moment to be looking up from the dark brown footing in the covered arena.
After I managed to survive two fantastic bucks and one or two intimidating crossrails, I trotted into the indoor with Kim Severson giving me a smile and saying, “That looks like fun!”
It seems written in the stars of eventing that when you do well at something big, you almost always end up on the floor within the next few events… and my time felt like it might be coming soon.
Now that I’m not quite a young rider and not quite an established staple at the top end of our sport, I find myself having to put on a lot of different hats (all approved, I swear!). I have a lot of young horses in the barn from all ends of the scale, adult amateurs to young riders that will carry on and become professionals themselves, sale horses and fortunately a few horses that will hopefully remain as top competitors for me.
I’ve also been very focused on trying to organize some syndicates and ways to get people excited about owning horses so Tate doesn’t have to hold the torch forever. And I must say, while trying to grab the right hat for the right event, I feel like I’ve showed up for the Kentucky Derby in a Billabong camo trucker hat!
In the two weeks since my last blog, I’ve watched some of my peers and members of the older generation handle the switch from riding at the Rolex four-star to riding their 4-year-olds around their first beginner novices, and I’m impressed by the grace with which they do it. I’ve always been slightly insecure, always wondering how everyone else was doing things, and eager to imitate.
I always teach my students to be consistent—that the one thing we do wrong as riders, especially on youngsters, is to change our system due to our own self-doubt. This creates a trend that horses pick up on and leads them down the same road of insecurities that we’re already traveling. This is a lesson I find I can apply well with the horses I’ve had for at least six months and have a relationship with, but I find it a little more difficult in the beginning stages of forming a partnership. Those are the stages in which you’re testing the waters to see what works and what doesn’t, as well as remembering what works and what doesn’t.
ADVERTISEMENT
Many coaches have yelled at me through the years, “Practice what you’re bad at, don’t continue to practice the things you can already do.” I do have a knack for identifying quite quickly my weak points, which I think girls in general are pretty good at—damned men they have it so easy! (Joking! Kinda…)
To become a better competitor I need to work on the transition from one hat to the next. I did not end up in the dirt this weekend at Virginia but I can honestly tell you that was a surprise.
Our ground has been terribly wet in New Jersey, and cross-country schooling has barely been an option, so I was less than prepared. The level at which I was competing was quite small, so the horses’ welfare wasn’t at risk, but some of my pride possibly was. I made a few mistakes, as did the horses, but there was nothing we didn’t learn from. All the horses are headed for cross-country schooling at New Jersey Horse Park on Sunday, and we’ll be more than prepared for our next outing!
The question I’ve been asked the most since coming back from Rolex is, “Have you come down from Cloud 9 yet?” That Cloud 9 place everyone is talking about is my new vacation house, and the view is amazing. I can visit when there is a spare moment, and it’s better than anything I could have possibly imagined but it is not my real house.
My real home is, like everyone else’s, full of responsibilities, dirty dishes and the reality that I still have a lot of work to do to become as graceful as the people I admire most. But I do think Cloud 9 might be a nice place to retire…
Sinead
