 The Fall season is on us. Seriously? Did I just type that? Not really sure how I missed January-August, but now it's September and I'm ignoring the fact that it's still brutally hot, and trying to map out where we will be going when the leaves are beautiful and the breeze is cool.
And yes, there it is, the slight pang of anxiety... that familiar flutter of acid against fragile stomach lining, better known as butterflies. We start to plan where we are going, and how we are getting their in the most successful way possible. It's easy to get tunnel vision, to get caught up in the process and put 100% of our focus and pressure on those few days on the calendar. And why wouldn't we.... we spend ungodly amounts of time, money, bloodsweatandtears getting there. So what I understand what I'm about to say is going to sound like pishposh funny business. But... What are you doing after the show?  It's been nearly 3 months since I updated this blog, and believe me, it's not for lack of planning. I've started so many articles, and have been brainstorming where this site is going, and how to effectively help everyone the best that I can.
And then that great god-of-horses/life/etc... threw me a big old bitch slap. This site and this blog is about you. It's about us. It's about this crazy world that we are all involved. And it's about working through and planning and preventing, and all those things that we can do something about.  Don't be fooled, this is my "I'm going to go puke behind the building" smile. We're friends right? And because we're friends, I'm going to let you in on a secret right now....
We all get nervous. During the Winter Olympics, my mom called me to excitedly (or apprehensively, not sure), with the news that one of the downhill skiers had the same issue that I do when nerves hit - however she'd spent lots of time and money to try and overcome her "problem"... We both throw up. Upchuck, Puke. Spew.  This is not a drill... nor a set up shot. Just an accurate display of how things sometimes go at the barn. Once I was listening to a morning radio show where a caller stated she rode horses and the host’s comment was “have you ever heard horse girls talk? They’d make a sailor blush”. He didn’t comment on the way we control thousands of pounds of horseflesh, or drive big trucks, or spend lots of money... oh no, the first thing that came to his mind was how crudely we speak.
And he’s not wrong. I was raised in a barn. Which means discussion about pee and poop was common; my sexual education started while watching a stallion mount a mare; and as an 8 year old, “hussy” had become part of my vocabulary because of my friend’s pony who would squat if a gelding looked at her.  Wiley understands the brain diarrhea all too well. I say a lot of words when I teach. It’s sort of a continuous stream of corrections, encouragement and praise. Plus, as an instructor, it’s important to have many different ways to say the same thing... one person’s “hands down” is another person’s “soft shoulders” is another’s “hold your wine glasses steady!”
I have several riders who, when teaching them on a regular basis, have these wonderfully productive lessons, where we cover many different thing from their position to how to ride a corner to the quality of their horse’s gait. There are lots and lots of words. And each word is heard, understood, and implemented. 
Here we are. We are here. There's a sky, and there might be clouds, and there's grass. I think there's grass. I keep my mighty steed's nose pointed towards that little white blurry box in the distance as I totally and utterly fake calmness. Wave to a few people coming off the course, make small talk about how the course is riding, look up at the box, and it still seems far away... and blurry.
Pick up a (calm, we are sssoooo calm. Calm Calm Calm) trot (but kinda brisk, because the starter just called out our 1:30 takeoff countdown). The box is still blurry. Maybe my contacts are dry. Wait, I don't wear contacts. Do I need glasses? Will I be able to see distances around the course? Or avoid trees? Or will I end up as some funny meme on Facebook because my horse went one way and I went the other. Damn that's a funny meme. Mentally add "make eye appointment" to list of things to do. But wait, I could see fine in warm-up. I did warm up, didn't I? "Number 187, you have 1 minute"  When we think of visualization techniques, immediately our riding comes to mind - how each step of the dressage test will feel as we execute it perfectly to plan, how getting to the right distance at every fence will flow, and how completing will let us ride high for a few days.
But let's be honest, the competition starts well before we first put our foot in the stirrup. Back at the barn, before the competition even starts, there are two types of people. First have you have the seasoned pros who roll in confidently, have a system of unpacking and setting up their stall or haul-in trailer area, and their horses are unloaded into a stress-free zone of zen.  Wiley's dating profile picture - of course I swiped right - thank god I'm more selective with my human men! Because we all need a little comic relief... I present you, The Meatball Adventures....
AND SO IT BEGAN... It was late fall 2013 and my mom's voice was hesitantly excited about a group of weanlings that were going to the sale barn from the Southern Illinois University breeding program. They were well-bred. They were handled. They were warmbloods. Therefore I wanted an the ugliest, gangliest one. I wanted a Meatball. While on the phone with her, I flipped through the pics on their Facebook page, and knew immediately that "Song of the South" would be my Meatball. He was potbellied, ass high, a little disheveled, and instead of the 'look of eagles', he had the 'look of slight confusion'. Sounds about right. |
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