 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. The nausea that I experience when I get nervous is something that I've become to welcome with open arms. Now, I know that not everyone can do this. My brother panics about puking - so much so that he makes himself even more nervous! But for me, it's a sense of control. We can prepare and we can practice, and we can ride a line, rhythm and balance, but we can't control the soft spot in the water jump, or the shadow in front of fence 3, or the loose horse in warm-up, or that our horse woke up with a headache. But I can control my stomach - even if it means emptying it, repeatedly.
I think back fondly about a time in Indiana, when in warm-up for cross country, I was doing a superb job of riding atrociously. I mean, it was ugly. Long spots that required my horse sprouting wings, burying him at the base so hard he had to turn his shoulders inside out to get us out of the well. My mom, who when I moved up to preliminary, decided she was out of her comfort zone of yelling directions across the warm up arena, would quietly give me pointers during my walk breaks. But this time, she had no reservations about hollering (and yes, for those of you who have met Momma Sitton and are surprised by this -- she CAN actually 'holler') across the field "WHY DON'T YOU GO THROW UP OR SOMETHING?!!". So I went and threw up. Behind a bush. Rockie rolled his eyes. And I remembered how to ride. Before my first Intermediate with Prophet, I had picked up a bit of a cold, which was fairly convenient for the gagging scenario. I was older, I was a professional, I had been running the upper levels for close to a decade and there were people there with me, who looked up to me, I shouldn't be THAT nervous, right? So it was definitely the 'cold' that was making me cough until I gagged. And I remember waiting until I was taping up P's boots in the stall before heaving up the contents from dinner the night before. Note: it's pretty convenient to have shavings to hide the evidence. Now, I'm definitely not saying that this is the answer for everyone. Clearly, not everyone is as comfortable as I am with the reverse digestion process. However, we can have all have that one thing we can control, when everything is out of control. Control, control, control. And then we turn off the control and just let it all ride, literally. Cheers! |
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