Let's not be a chicken

Or chicken-s*** as one of my best friends called me in only the way a best friend can. This is what happens to me when I have an opportunity to talk to or work with a rider that I really respect. Even the thought of them knowing I exist makes me sick to my stomach. It's a complete rock-star, celebrity, "Beatles-style" star-struck emotion that I wish I didn't have. Please hide me under a rock because nothing I could do or say is worthy of your consideration and I might just start crying because I'm overwhelmed by the enormity of your awesomeness. It's pathetic, I know. 

I'll never forget when I met the Riding Master for the Lippizaner Stallions. My family and I were back at our hotel after watching their performance and my Dad had recognized him in the bar. My Dad, being the great people lover he is, had no problem going with me to talk to him and if it had not been for his encouragment I would have of course run the other way, content and complete having seen him so close. Who was I to speak to someone so great, so well-trained, so "international"? I hadn't ridden in six months and I couldn't even pronounce half the above air movements.  If it had not been for the graciousness of the Riding Master I wouldn't have said a word. I probably would have just stared at him and wondered things like,"Does he clean his own boots?". Instead, he kindly asked me questions about myself and my riding and it ended up being one of the most inspiring conversations I've ever had. I went back to the hotel room, shut myself in the bathroom and cried. 

Now, I have another opportunity to meet a rider that I greatly respect. She's a 4* Eventer that I was truly inspired and encouraged by her performance at Rolex this past year. David, Zeke and I are going this weekend to meet her barn team and see if they have a place for me. Now, I just recently birthed a child and I'm more intimidated by this weekend than I was about giving birth. I just keep telling myself that every 4* rider is human.  I like to think that they weren't just born talented and at one time in their life they were not so different from me. They were young, inexperienced and hopeful dreamers who worked hard to achieve their goals. If I can keep this in mind I might actually be able to talk to them. Or I could just fain being mute and maybe they'll take pitty on me, then after a year or two of mucking stalls in their vicinity I may be able to procure an utterance in their presence. It would be truly miraculous! Mute girl learns to speak by mucking stalls! But no, that won't work at all. Because now I have a son, a little person that I'm suppose to set an example for. So I'll be brave. I'll talk to the people I admire most and aspire to be like. I'll work hard, I'll dream, I'll take chances and be willing to embarrass myself and royally mess things up. And who knows, maybe this is a new chapter, maybe this is when I get over being a chicken-s***, but I'll never know until I try and it's certainly worth trying. 

Out of the tack lessons: Having Babies

It's interesting to me how life can prepare you for future moments without your knowledge. Being around horses has done this for me in many ways and it has shaped the way I think. Here are some things I found to be true for me in my latest adventure of bringing my son Zeke into the world. 

   You can not function out of fear. Just as a horse will sense someone's fear and either respond in fight or flight, so it is for those who approach pregnancy in the same way. I struggled with this in my own thoughts, the opinions of others, and especially the medical field. However, there is power and freedom in learning how to filter what you hear and choosing what will consume your thoughts. One of my filters is the "fruit filter". I look at the person giving the advice or whatnot and gauge what fruit it has given them and if I would want that for myself. If the fruit is good then the method of how it came into being is worth listening to.

     Partnership. Most horse people spend a considerable amount of time, energy and money finding a horse for their chosen discipline. If they're competing, only minutes are spent doing so in comparison to hours of preparation. And it's very telling. The same is true of marriage and having kids. Choose wisely. Put the time and effort in and when it comes show time you'll be glad you did.

   The unexpected happens. The worst thing that can happen is death. For me that's not so bad. It's even a good thing. So, prepare the best you can and then just let life play out. Learn from it. It'll be ok. Plus, pain is only temporary. That's what I tell myself before cross country and apparently childbirth. 

   Laugh and have fun if you can...especially if it's actually funny. Laughing can be the best medicine. So if you fall off your horse and a pile of poo softened your fall, then laugh. To the nurse who heard me comment while in labor that finally the day would come when I wouldn't have "hobbit feet", it was ok to laugh. 

   Community. Surround yourself with good, stable, happy people. Horses definitely try to do this and it's no wonder why. 

   Visualization. While going through contractions I thought I would visualize holding my son and that that would help me make it through. Turns out it didn't. Being that I am extremely visual and had never held my son before, all I could "see" was a blank page. So, what could I picture that like a contraction was intimidating but had a beginning and an end. Well, I was back on xc heading to a jump on top of a hill. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Jump. And on to the next one. I must say that was the longest 38 hours of xc visualization I've ever done. Maybe next time I'll change the course a bit. 

   Don't give up. Shortly after becoming pregnant I began to address myself as a "broodmare" and "out-to-pasture". This was certainly how I felt about myself and how I felt I was being treated by many. How sad is that? To those young horse people out there, having children is not the end of your participation in the equestrian world. It is actually the continuation of something much bigger. You can't be selfish if you're going to participate in it. The price you pay is worth the outcome. Your body will come back, and maybe even better then it was before. Don't let the fear of the uncertain keep you from potential joy. In light of all this, I've decided to give myself some patience and some room to recover. At least as much as I would give a "broodmare" coming back into work:)  

   Here's to horses and all the life lessons they bring. 

   

Prayers for Pregnancy

Dear God, please keep me from fear and anxiety. Put trust and a calm, peaceful spirit in their place. May your truths be what circulate through my mind. God help me to love those who tell me painful and heartbreaking birthing stories. May I be able to give them some of the comfort they are seeking. Keep me from complaining. Remind me constantly that this child is a gift and that many women desperately crave to feel the joys and burdens of being pregnant and having children. Remind me that birth is normal and beautiful and that you made my body to do this. Keep me from being selfish about my body, what it looks like and will look like. May I welcome each transition, feeling, emotion and pain as a right of passage. Help me remember that pain is only pain and that it is only temporary. Keep me calm, as worry and freaking-out never helped anyone. Please help me to remember my husband in this time, that he was the first person I committed my life to. May I not be so involved in myself and this baby that I forget to love him well. May I also see beyond my own needs and emotions to those around me, to friends, family, strangers, nurses, and doctors. Keep me from being self-consumed. May I already set the example for my child now in pregnancy and during birth. Remind me of the positive birth stories I know and of the amazing women they belong to. May you give me a birth story that can encourage and comfort other new moms. Thank you for this gift. Thank you for this opportunity. Please keep me grateful. 

Passing the Lead

Sometimes you start a new chapter in life without even realizing it. It seems to usually happen when you've gotten into the swing of things, figured it all out and there's a plan in progress. That's when it happens. When one small thing changes everything. My life has happily been full of these changes. I've learned that if I just take a deep breath, remember the greatness of God and the smallness of my "plan", it usually turns out better then I could have ever dreamed. 

So after my last/first show with Gabe I learned that I was pregnant. It was such a mix of joy, relief and anxiety. After 3 early term miscarriages in the beginning of our marriage, this was not a journey I felt ready to take. None the less, I am 6 months pregnant with one very active, healthy little boy and not one complication in sight. In not being ready for the struggles of pregnancy I was also not ready for the blessings it has already brought. I trust God deeper than ever before. My husband has loved and served me unlike anyone else in my life. His love reminds me of Jesus constantly. I was able to quit my job and be completely rested. I turned down a career as an Environmental Scientist. I sold my newly bought truck. All these things felt so un-American, so anti-cultural. It's not that I didn't have options and that by default I am choosing to be a mom. I am actively, happily choosing and stating that being the major influence in my child's life is the most important thing I could possibly do right now and in the future. The hardest part of this for me has not been the loss of a career or of freedom, but the loss of riding my horse. Now I am a huge proponate for listening to your body and your brain when it's comes to physical activity while being pregnant. I also have hailed the women I've heard of that have ridden while pregnant...Mary King, Georgiana Bloomberg, and of course there's Mother Mary. I also have seen many a pregnant equestrian go into this time with great sadness. I've met women in their forties who just began riding again after raising kids and just don't seem to "have it" anymore. They have the courage and spine of a rice cake. However, some of my greatest equestrian heroes are in their forties and could put me to shame in technique, skill, and a numbness to fear. How these women end up in such different places is still something I'm seeking out as I am bound and determined to be one of those later equestrians. However, now is not that time. I think I could've kept on riding for a few more months, but that would be on a differnt horse. You see Gabe is a pleaser and I have been training and pushing him towards perfection and excellence for the past three plus years. When our rides became the equivalent of what our warm-ups use to be I could tell he was bored. He very kindly accepted me how I was, but I couldn't stand it. I could not accept it. Plus, I still have 3 more months to go and it's the beginning of a new show season. I have seen many a horse sit in a pasture and have their talent wasted away. Sometimes one season off becomes years upon years and then a horse that couldn't had a whole other half of their career has just grazed away into obscurity. Now this is perfect for some horses. However, Gabe is the happiest when working and working hard. He is in his prime and I have finally submitted that I will not be the one to lead him forward in this time. I also realize that I have not been the only one to have taken part in Gabe's journey so far. There was his initial rescuer, then my friend who brought me to the horsemanship clinic where we met, vets, farriers, trainers, barn managers, workers and owners. I have been an overseer and coordinator of such and that will continue. But why should I let it stop there. I feel like animals are ment to be blessing, so let him bless. So, through the connections of trainers(thank you!) I was introduced to a young pony club rider in need of a horse. It could not have been a better fit. I remember what it was like when someone else let me ride their horse and I couldn't stop smiling. I never could've expected what it would feel like to give a gift to someone else that was once given to me. Not only that, but I saw the full circle of a horse that was once imaciated and mentally unhealthy now not just being able to be rideable by me, but to be perfectly attuned to this girl and to be a teacher himself. That has been one of the greatest joys and compliments of my riding career. So, yes I have a temporary, selfish sadness that I'm not the one riding Gabe, but it is so far, far outweighed by the joy and fullness of watching that little girl ride and love him. What a gift. Now I can rest and focus on my little baby to come knowing that I have done my best to steward this wonderful horse that was given to me. 

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.