First Show

We finally did it...well, kind of. We made it to our first show. Three years of rehab, training, and a lot of hard hours in the saddle. Not to mention tack, buying a truck and borrowing a trailer. Everything came together. I found a great schooling show at Windridge. I actually had a weekend off from work. I had already been on the show grounds months before, seen the course, reviewed our level and I knew it would be a good test for us. Also, my parents and husband would be there. Yay for a support team:) Then the day came...I couldn't eat a thing. It was one of those days when time slows down when you wish it would hurry up. I had prepared as much as I knew how and now there was nothing left to do but to test myself and my mount. Fortunately and unfortunately you can't learn everything from a video or a trainer, it's through living life and experiencing things where your true makeup is tested. I learned that Gabe is going to do his best to put poop in strange places before a show...like his eye. However, I was prepared for that, because I know my horse. I also learned that people in the warm up ring can get a little out of control. One rider made Gabe so nervous that we just waited on the outside of the ring until they were done. I learned that you never know what to expect. From people walking out of the woods because the couldn't make it to the porter potty to a lady who shoved a stirafome cup between two tree branches as we were entering warmup, you just never know. However, the most important thing I learned is to not let anyone break your concentration, because people, well-meaning or not, will say just about anything. My next ride before dressage just call me Stonewall Jackson, because I'm not talking to a soul. I'm sure that whatever anyone has to say can wait until I finish my little test. Maybe I'll get better at that later, but it's not worth experiencing completely bombing my dressage test again. Another hard lesson learned was that I need to practice my dressage tests in different directions. I knew that I had a "spacial memory", but I had no idea it was that strong. Unfortunately, I had been practicing my dressage test in the complete opposite position from how it was set up at the show. Once I heard that first horn...sigh...I was done for. I lost count of how many times I went off course. Just keep moving and get it over with. Luckily, the judges were very kind and called out the remaining test to me. The worst part is that I felt like I let Gabe down. Here's an animal that is so talented and has come so far, but I couldn't even display that. I constantly battle the doubt that I'm not a good enough rider for him. Then I remember that the past three years of training have been about him. Now it's my turn. At one time all I did was focus on Gabe's weaknesses and we worked on them. Hard. Relentlessly. Now it is his work ethic and achievement that inspires me. I hope I remember that if I happen to go off course in my dressage test again. I also hope I can just find a good place to cry. Maybe, if that had been the case I could've gotten it over with and put myself back together before stadium and xc. Sadly, I couldn't pull myself together. I decided that I wouldn't be safe riding Gabe in the next two tests as I was on the verge of a meltdown and I still had to safely trailer home. My husband kindly withdrew for me and both he and my parents helped pack everything up and trailer out as my stadium round was starting. I will always be grateful for that.

It's been almost 4 months since that show. I still remember laying on the couch for what seemed days...trying to get the sound of a horn out of my head. I've had nightmares about dressage tests. But that's not all. I went to a dressage clinic and was so inspired. Friends called. Gabe was sweet and wonderful to ride. I watched USEA clinic videos. I listened to the stories of others. And you know what? I am not the first show heart-break nor will I be the last. Also, the people who have overcome these types of scenarios are the ones who are the strongest and enduring athletes. I was listening to an interview of a pro snowboarder who lost her first Olympics because she fell moments before the finish line to win the bronze. And yet now as she has returned to try for the gold she said that her proudest and most meaningful moment would be winning her bronze metal, because that was the moment when she learned who she was and was tested to her fullest capacity. I feel the same. I still have my bridle number from the show and I look at it every day. Because it reminds me of where I've come from and where I want to go. It reminds me that that will not be my last show experience, but only my first. It will be my inspiration to focus on my weaknesses and lack of show experience. It's not a failure, but just another lesson. And as my husband reminded me, my main goal was just to make it to my first show. So, now back to the drawing board. It's time to learn some more, soak up everything I can, ride and one day try again. 

The Nos

Have you ever felt like you hear "No" at every turn. No, you can't do this. No, that's too hard. No, that would take way too much effort. No, just give up or don't even try. It seems to me that not every "No" means your going in the wrong direction, it may just be a test of your resolve. Instead of "No" being a statement, what if it was a question? "No?" feels so much different than "No." It also requires a response. So, then the once statements from above become questions. You need to make a decision instead of receiving one. You're not being told what to do by your circumstances or by chance, but you are taking captive your actions and moving into a forward, decisive mindset. I for one have never been very good at being told "No" in the first place. It feels like defeat. Maybe it's just personality, but it may also be that I come from a long line of extraordinary people who never took it for an answer, unless it was the wise choice. They didn't take it because it was the easiest thing to do or because that's what everyone else around them was doing. My heritage is from a strong people. Stubborn. Headstrong. Solid. Powerful. And I now accept that heritage whole-heartedly. It came to good use in my most recent adventure with Gabe:

My current barn owner has been generous enough to let me borrow her horse trailer now that I have a truck and so on the first Saturday that I had off from work I asked to borrow it to take Gabe xc schooling. I also was hoping to do a "test-run" for our up-coming first show.  I planned to go to a barn where we had been before. It had a great xc training facility and was only an hour away, plus I knew the owners. So, bright and early David and I got up, hooked up the truck and trailer, loaded Gabe and arrived at the facility by 8:30 am with the morning dew still thick in the air. It looked like we were in Scotland.  It looked so promising, then I realized that the dew wasn't the only thing thick in the air. The xc course was so overgrown you would've needed a machete to get through it.  When I walked out to the first jump, David could just see the top of my hand waving at him. I'm 5'7. Ridiculous. Then the owner, whom I had contacted ahead of time to make sure I could use the xc course, came out of the barn, saw us, and then promptly drove off. Insert your own boiling angry description here. Once my anger passed I cried...for the second time that day and it wasn't even 9 am. Eish. The sun had barely risen and defeat was already on the horizon. So, which was it going to be..."No." or "No?".  Both went through my head. Both seemed to be an option. Then I realized that if I accepted a small "No." like this, I wasn't going to achieve anything.  So, I put on my big girl breeches and made a decision. I made sure David was still hanging in there with me and we decided that today I was going to xc school on Gabe no matter what. That was my answer. Now I just had to find a way.  We ended up driving to Gibes Farm in St. Matthews, SC. It was 2 1/2 hours away, we had to go through horrid Columbia traffic, and we arrived in the heat of the day, but we did it. It was so worth it. The facility was AMAZING. It was well maintained and well planned out. Plus, we had the place to ourselves, since all the sane people whose plans hadn't fallen apart had left around 12:30. The only issues I had was when a seemingly pale Indian statue on course came to life and scared me senseless.  It turned out David had left his spot at the rig, taken his shirt off, but left it on his head, and was stoically watching me with his arms crossed.  I thought it was a carving honoring our Native American heritage and didn't give much more thought to it until it moved. The only other thing to go "wrong" was that Gabe kept falling over like a fainting goat when I went to put the studs into his shoes. This is why test-runs are so important. At first I freaked mentally. I thought, "No way he's that tired from a 3 hour trailer ride. How are we going to go xc or even get home?" Then, I remembered that with his new 5-point harness he magically feels like it's connected to some great string in the sky when you pick his feet up and he seemingly forgets to balance on the other three legs and falls over. Bizarre, yes. From now on I will pick his feet and put in his studs before the harness goes on. Fainting goat.  Other than those two things it was a great experience. He also got "style points" from David when we lost momentum coming up to a log on a hill and Gabe slid both legs over the front of the log and stopped. We were obviously leaving our caboose behind. What's a horse to do? He put both back feet on the jump and pushed off. I don't know if that counts as jumping, but we made it over. Later we were able to get into a decent rhythm and Gabe jumped confidently by the end. I worked on my position and responding to him promptly. We're trying to work on resolving the "wet noddle" approach to jumps. I also saw jumps that inspired me and I realized the talent of the people and horses that could jump them. At the end of my ride I told David, "I wish I would've had a trainer with me today to help me know what other jumps I could do" as I had kept it very easy and simple. He said, "Which other ones do you want to do?" My response, "All of them!"

Our next question has since surfaced. There is a Schooling Horse Trials coming up at Windridge Farm this August 24th and I plan on entering.  So, tonight I went on Event Entries to complete our forms and their website is down. "No." you say? Ha. We've heard that before.

Studs and Trucks

By studs I mean the kind the you put in your horse's shoes...for those that were wondering. About six months ago I had a very difficult time keeping a consistent farrier.  I'm sure anyone who has ever had a horse can attest to this.  I've tried bringing them cookies, sweet tea, and even setting them up under fans in the shade in the summer time.  However, when they're just barefoot trimming one horse they just don't make that much money. I get it. My bribery only seemed to get me invitations for a night out, not a consistent trim. So, when Gabe developed a quarter crack after a too long wait between trims I was crest-fallen.  I told the barn manager to grab the next farrier that came to the barn to have him done...unfortunately I wasn't there.  I'm one of those horse owners that likes to be there for every vet visit, hoof trim, deworming, etc., and this is why. I came back to a trim with a long toe and short heel with the crack notched wide open in the shape of a triangle.  The angles themselves would've been great had I been a barrel racer or was planning a sliding stop in the next 6-8 weeks, but that's usually the last thing you want to do in eventing.  After that visit I continued to try and contact my past farrier who had been MIA the past 16 weeks, who also trimmed/shoed ~10 horses at that barn. I still could not get him to respond to me, nor was he responding to the other owners. So, when the time came for Gabe's feet to be done, the day before my "almost 1st schooling show", I trimmed them.  Minus my back giving out it went really well and made me appreciate farriers that do show up and do a good job. Well, a day after the failed schooling show(another story), I get a call from another owner saying that the MIA farrier came out and I owe him for trimming Gabe. Though he did say that his feet looked really good...he was surprised since he hasn't been out there in over 16 weeks. He did not call me or ask if my horse needed to be trimmed and now Gabe was lame.  I could've punched him.  However, I just called and left a voicemail explaining Gabe had just been trimmed the day before and to never trim my horse again without me being there or actually asking him to come and how much he wanted to be paid for laming my horse.  I never got a call back. So, many weeks have since past and I have now found a wonderful, consistent, on time farrier! But the quarter crack still hasn't gone away...even with trimming every 6 weeks. Sigh. I've always said I'd know when it was time to put shoes on Gabe. I preferred keeping my horses barefoot.  I've seen so many horrific shoeing mishaps to last me a lifetime; bowed tendons, heels being cut open, hoof walls being ripped off.  Plus it is much more expensive and you have to have a reliable farrier.  Also, unless you want to slip and slide all over cross-country or a grass jumping ring, you're going to have to get those shoes "drilled and tapped" and start using studs. And if your horse over-reaches then they've got to practically live in bell boots the rest of their lives. The whole thing is such a hassle and I was more then reluctant to sign up for it.  I actually started to cry the day Gabe had his first shoes put on.  I could just envision everything that would go wrong. This is where being Pre-vet and having done a large-animal externship at UGA works against you. However, since Gabe has gotten shoes his crack hasn't moved a centimeter. Awesome. Plus, there's this feeling that came with putting studs in his shoes...it was a nostalgic feeling, like I was becoming a "real" eventer.  Kind of like when a baby getting their first shoes and you realize their actually walking. It was one of those moments you realize,"I'm actually doing this". So, shoes and studs it is. 

Now for a truck. I've been researching for over a year what kind of truck to get and how I could afford it. The words have been echoing in my head that this was the year I was going to do my first show, or just give up. What does that mean? Practically, it means a horse, a truck, a trailer, and a lot of horse-paraphernalia. Well, I have the horse, some of the paraphernalia and now I have the truck. The experience couldn't have gone better.  I remember seeing it in this little lot and thinking in my head, "Oooooo".  I asked David if we could stop and look at it after dinner and we did.  The dealer was still out there, which we weren't expecting, but he was very nice and not creepy. He even let me test drive hauling with it the next day.  The day we bought it David said, "How does it feel?" and I said,  "Good". Which is my usually "respond in a non-monologue way when I'm super excited". Then he said, "How does it make you really feel?". Oh, he wants the REAL answer. So, this is something close to how I responded: It makes me feel free and adventurous, knowing I can load up my horse and go anywhere I want.  I can just envision the hours of riding in new and different places. It's the thrill of future challenges to come. It's feeling safe on the road. Please, ride my bumper and smash into my hitch.  It's the feeling of fulfillment of a dream long dreamed, a hope long hoped.  That same day we bought the truck I also bought some new breeches for showing(one of the best equestrian days ever) and I made a very helpful friend at The Farm House who helped me find some breeches for my "curves, curves, curves".  She was absolutely delightful and after she found out that I was planning my first show and had just bought a truck, I saw the same look in her eyes that I know is in mine. She said, "Ride for me".  Turns out she doesn't have a horse, truck or trailer and that is her dream too. It was a good reminder before I move forward to remember how far I've come and to remember that there are others dreaming to. And that when I do show and I see other who have the best of the best that I shouldn't be intimidated or jealous, but happy for them, that they are living out their dream. 

Rolex 2013

I sit and feel the stillness of an early morning surrounded by fog. I love mornings like this. Mornings that seem as if hope and promise are encapsulated in the dew around you. Then the stillness is broken by birds serenading the sun to come into full bloom and the day to begin. It's such a beautiful moment that I rarely take the time to notice anymore, and yet this happens every day all over the world. Is it by chance that mornings seem to hold such hope, such anticipation of things to come? I doubt it. At this moment my heart and mind are filled with it.

Rolex this year was such a different experience for me from the first year that I went. It was 3 yrs ago that I first watched "Rolex" unfold on the blue hills of Kentucky and I will probably never be the same. I'd never experienced one sport before that culminated all of my desire for challenge, power, speed, finesse, athleticism, courage, discipline, and horsemanship all in one. When I arrived this year I was still awe inspired by the facility, the courses, the riders and horses, but it wasn't as overwhelming as it had once been. The jumps looked do-able, the dressage movements achievable, and the dream possible. That first year when I said, "I want to do this", it was with a somewhat reckless courage, lack of fear, and love of a challenge that propelled me forward. Now, it is still with courage, but with a good deal more respect and calculation that I continue on. This time 3 years ago I was barely riding, I didn't have a horse and I wasn't jumping. Now, I have a horse that was given to me as an answer to prayer, who is as talented and athletic as I ask him to be and I also have an amazing support system in my husband, family and trainer. God really does care about the little things and the longings of your heart. I felt so dumb the day I finally broke down and asked God to give me a horse or send me to Vet school. Not a week later He arranged through the most intricate of details to give me that very horse. I hope I never forget that. God has been so faithful in caring for he deepest desires of my heart. I just had to actually ask him.

The Suburban Horsewife

The Suburban Horsewife may be one of the more appropriate terms for what to call me. I was thinking about this the other day while driving and seeing all of the stickers that people put on their cars to identify themselves. I began to ponder what a sticker would like like that would define me...the next image that popped into my mind made me smile at its ridiculousness. Just imaging one of those female stick figures with a ponytail sitting on a horse with a Clemson tattoo on its but, while I'm hugging a tree in one hand, frying pan in the other, broom and cleaning products strapped to the saddle, with laboratory gloves and goggles on, two dogs and husband in the mix, and a large cross cascading over the outline of Africa surrounding this whole mess. Ha! Defined! Now let's put it in a box and then all the Americans can attempt to be abated while still terribly confused. This is my life and I have chosen every bit of it. So often I see people who just trade in one thing for the other...ex- horses are traded for children, job, age, education or boyfriend/husband. And yet if there is one thing that I have learned that seems universal, it is that if it matters to you, truly matters, then you will find a way to make it happen. That's why people's excuses seem so frail to me. Now reasons are one thing, but excuses are another...and they're a cop-out. Reasons and circumstances may explain you, but they don't have to define you. I think of this constantly as I want so badly to take Gabe to our first competition. And we're ready. We've been ready. We may not win, but we are ready to test ourselves and to try. I told David the other day, "I have been talking about competing for almost 8 years now. I am tired of talking about it. I want to actually do it. And if I'm not going to do it then I just need to give up and shut up about it". There was a pause and then I said, "But we both know I'm not very good at giving up" and he smiled at me.
So now that we've finished building our house and moved in, all I need to do is get a truck and trailer, dressage saddle, a few more show clothes, pants that fit(because I've lost 25lbs) and the best 1st timers show situation planned out with trainer on hand. Just maybe this will all happen before 2014, but if not then I guess you won't hear about it...

Colic

These past 6 months have been the most challenging with Gabe. We went through our first colic scare together. Apparently, he didn't drink enough water the one day that it snowed and that was all it took to begin 48 hrs of a colic nightmare. To be honest it went really well for it being a bad situation. I noticed the symptoms very early, the Vet was out in an hour, he was diagnosed and medicated within two hours. The rest was just the hard work portion...walking him every hour for the first 12 hours and then feeding 1/4 of his food every 3 hours and a lot more walking. I discovered several things through this experience. First of all, there is nothing like a punctual and trustworthy Vet, who actually loves what they do. Thank you Dr. Metcalf at Tryon Equine Hospital! Secondly, you learn a lot about a persons personality in times of trouble. My barn owner let me sleep in his cabin and use his wood stove throughout the 30 degree night. The dogs were welcome as well, with Tamu on my lap and Duke under my arm we stayed warm on an old couch for our 1 hr sleep intervals. I was so grateful for those two dogs! They have been such good friends to me. My boss let me have the next day off...I love working for an animal lover! David drove 3hrs, before going in to work a night shift, to pick up my Dad's truck and my sisters stethoscope. A cowboy that I had spoken with only a few times was willing to let me use his trailer if things went poorly and we had to move Gabe to the Equine Hospital. And one of my sweet friends texted me that she was praying for Gabe and kept checking up on him:) Overall, I realized how blessed I am to be surrounded by caring and generous people, people who say, "Call me if you need anything". And they mean it.
Now we are on the mend. I've celebrated horse flatulence and BMs like never before. Gabe loves his new soaked Timothy hay and I find myself quite jealous of it some mornings as it's steaming in the morning light and I'm eating a piece of toast. He seems to get the same enjoyment out of it as I do a nice cup of tea in a comfy chair. The interesting part of all this is that Gabe nickers to me now. In the 3 years I've owned him he has probably done that twice and the same goes for talking to other horses. He's the quite, silent type. But now he nickers to me just about every time I come out to the barn. Love it! He also comes galloping up to come see me...commence melting heart and warm fuzzies:) It's those moments that make sleepless nights and expensive vets bills worth it. It's for those moments that people who love me or are just kind strangers rearranged their schedule to help me. And yet we are so far away from our riding goals, but it's moments like that that I wouldn't trade for any great equestrian accolade in the world. My horse knows I love him and he loves me back. Immeasurable. Priceless.

It's all about moving...new house, new barn, and outa the way!

Ahhh, the curve ball-It's been a time of remembering what I already know and putting those things into practice. Since my last update I've moved Gabe to a "new" farm. It was actually one of the best horse moving experiences I've had. The barn owner(from the place I was leaving) offered for me to use his King Ranch truck and trailer to move Gabe and wouldn't accept a penny for it! It was already hooked up for me to boot! I mean that kinda stuff just doesn't really happen in the horse world! Anyways, I moved Gabe because David and I are building a house. That's right, we don't like living in Spartanburg and we're gonna build a house just outside of it...eish. However, we both have great jobs and have not had any opportunities to leave though we have looked...and trust me, I've looked VERY hard. So, what do you do when you want to leave but your suppose to stay? You wait. You seek contentment. You learn to give, grow, and learn no matter where you are or whatever circumstances you're in. You stop pleading with God to give you something else and trust that he knows what he's doing a heck of a lot better then you do. That's the hope at least. So, now we're here. We're investing. And back to horsey stuff, Gabe is now 5 minutes away and I'm doing all of his care. This was going great until I discovered some nasty habits and manners that he's been getting away with. And I don't just mean elbows on the table and belching kinda stuff. Oh no, I'm talking about charging through the stall door, breaking the cross ties and running away, ears pinned, butt turned, and kicking me in the knee when I took his blanket off. I have never been so mad and bewildered at this gentle spirit who turned into 2 yr old hellion over night. More than anything though my feelings were hurt. Here's a horse that I wake up hours early and get home late after work to see and pick up his poop, feed, brush, and exercise. I realized that he doesn't exactly take that into consideration. However, he has taught me yet another important lesson...he doesn't know how hard I work to pay for him or how much sleep I don't get so that he's well taken care of...he is a horse. Sometimes I completely forget that. Though they have an amazing sense about them and are incredible creatures at the core of what they are and what they were created to be is "horse" and the second I forget that is when we have problems. I remember just before I moved Gabe I thought I smelled something funny, like rain rot, by his hoof and so what did I do? I picked up his hoof and promptly stuck my nose as close as I could to it...my face was centimeters away. It hit me then that I had completely lost touch with the fact that Gabe was a horse and what I was doing was completely stupid and unsafe. I had forgotten what I already know. First, you treat a horse as a horse. Think about things from their mentality as a herd animal, an animal that was once preyed on, their field of vision, their body language, and then you can communicate with them in a way they understand and in that there is a bond and a beautiful friendship. My problem is that I forgot all about the horse part and just relied on friendship. I began to see that I praised Gabe for everything...eating, drinking, standing, etc. Talk about behaving like an overindulgent mother! And who likes to be around that? No one. No person or animal needs to be praised for just existing. Gabe knew it, saw me a weak, and decided that he would take over as the herd leader since I was mentally unfit. Which is completely about survival. Smart horse when your person is making dumb decisions. I think that's why a synchronized, harmonious horse and rider team is so beautiful...it's a relationship built on a deep understanding of one another, where both are submitting some form or fashion of their safety and well-being to the other. Think about what a horse is saying to you when you put a bit in his mouth? I trust you. I give you control. A rider trusts that a horse will take them to a fence and find a way over it safely. Even just having someone get on a horse's back says a lot about trust both ways. It's when we forget who the other is when we disrupt that friendship and degrade what is meant to be beautiful. For those of you who are equestrians, I hope this encourages you to be in rhythm with your horse, to know what your job is and what it isn't and the same for your horse. For those that are not equestrians, horse lessons can always be applied to some other area of your life...just ask any horse person and I'm sure they'll be able to think of something:)