I have to admit, I am totally kicking myself after talking about plans and then having to get the vet out days later. Did I jinx myself? Is that really a thing? Who knows, but I’m regretting it.

Picture because he’s cute with that blond hair a-flying

It makes me think about how superstitious some folks can be at shows.

At our last show, I had friends who were both equally excited to report to me that I was in the lead after dressage, and others that thought I shouldn’t know. Of course there’s something to do with handling mental pressure in this case, besides pure luck, but still- it’s a common debate and not just in my camp!

What is the likelihood that if I hadn’t know that I was in the lead, that I then would have gone double clear in showjumping instead of getting that cheap rail? Or was that cheap rail ‘destined’ to be mine all along? In my mind, I feel like I would have had the same level of stress going into showjumping as I would have in any case, but maybe that little bit of hope for a potential blue ribbon messed it all up for me?

The one that got away.

And then I have a friend who insists that if things are going well mid-show, that she will be absolutely MIA on social media until it’s all over. Because, you know, jinxing. Whereas if things have gone to pot, then who the hell cares and share-away!

Where do you stand? Do you like to know where you are in the standings mid-event? Do you wait until it’s all over to share any news? How do you mentally move from one phase to another?

Due to a range of ever-changing circumstances, I ended up being on Jack for a lot longer than anticipated. As a result, my calves have been basically screaming in agony for the last 3 days.

Now, recently I have come to the light-bulb conclusion that dressage does not exactly require heels down- and that my over-elastic ankles actually made for a bracing lower leg that brought my leg forward. Since having this epiphany, I am working to allow my leg to simply hang, focusing on making my knee point downwards and bringing my heels under my hips. That’s made going back and forth from dressage to jumping, which definitely requires heels down, that much more tricky. Hence sudden anguish after lots of jumping.

~2014

Which brings me to footwear. At work, I reside in the same building as the executive suite, and so the common wardrobe tends to skew towards the more business-side of business casual. Most women wear heels, skirts, dresses, and in general more ‘done-up’ than you would find elsewhere on campus. But most women don’t have a hobby that requires their heels to flex down. I pretty much wear some version of flats (or boots in the winter) every day, and it’s easy to feel a bit under dressed surrounded by these magazine worthy creatures who occupy the same space. And after this weekend, and the constant calf stretches I have been doing to ease the pain, I have even less desire to up my footwear game to fit in.

That would be me, on the right.

So I want to know, other equestrians with office jobs of the world: does your hobby effect how you dress for work? Do you struggle to get your heels down in general? Does riding influence the footwear choices that you make? Inquiring minds want to know!

Chatting with a friend who had just witnessed the KY Charlotte Dujardin clinic this weekend, I quickly came to the conclusion that despite forever having my respect and admiration for her program and her riding, I don’t think I would ever want to train with the top dressage rider in the world.

Picture of my BFF because she’s badass and because we have this convo all the time.

That’s because in some many ways, I’m totally comfortable admitting my “amateurness”. I’m never going to be a full-time professional rider (though I wouldn’t oppose to the full-time aspect). I enjoy being a dual-discipline (bi-discipline?) rider with the comfortable recognition of likely never reaching the status of Ingrid Klimke. Therefore, I have different needs in a trainer.

Though there’s a lot more that goes into it, here are a few of my main priorities when choosing a trainer:

Understanding the Typical Amateur’s Schedule
I have a 9-5 job. Sometimes that turns into a 8-6, or 9-9 job, depending on the day or the week. My trainer needs to understand that and respect that. Some prospective trainers I’ve met only offered lessons during normal working hours, and weekend lessons were a rarity. Quite frankly, that will never work for me. And since the job not only limits my availability, but also pays for said lessons, that makes this one a non-negotiable.

Photo of my trainer, getting trained

Balance of Praise and Criticism
This is probably where most people differ. Personally, I am not interested in the trainer that praises my for 45 minutes and then is done. But some people need a holding hand and a cheerleader in their trainer for where they are, and that is more than fine. I tend to do well with a trainer who holds me accountable, and consistently pushes me to be better than I am, but also tells me when I am doing right. Too much one way or the other, and I tend to check out stage-right, either mentally or with my check book.

Having a trainer whose accomplishments you respect is also helpful. Enter: Boyd Martin (not my trainer)

Working with Goals
Here’s a tough one. Sometimes a client, aka rider, has completely unrealistic goals- for instance the rider who has never competed at second level who is determined to compete in the Olympics (do you know one of these? I do!). On the flip side is the talented, or talented-enough amateur rider who has lost so much confidence that they limit themselves to the lowest-of-the-lowest levels. A good trainer will be able to assess their client (and the horse that they ride) and be able to adjust expectations, make sub-goals, and lay out an honest and achievable path that brings about growth in their client. To me this is the hardest thing the right trainer must achieve- because sometimes well-meant honesty and judgement is a difficult endeavor, requiring not only honestly but a little bit of faith as well.

Yup, never going to do this and that’s fine by me.

Appreciation of the Less-than-perfect-Beastie
Let’s face it- most amateurs have a less than infinite budget, and a sincere lack of sponsors. Therefore, the horse(s) we have are what we’ve got to work with. And an understanding trainer gets that. Sure, sometimes there are glaring mismatches, in which case once a trainer understands all of the above requirements and sees that the fit is less-than-ideal, they can make recommendations. But firing a horse because it will never be their Valegro is just unreasonable. We spend so many hours financially and mentally on our horses that we need a trainer who is onboard too. In the best of worlds we can even find a trainer(s) who will help us find said beastie, but in different scenarios a great trainer will work with what we’ve got, and in accordance with the above section, work to set realistic goals.

What are the qualities that you look for in a trainer? What are the aspects of your trainer that you are most thankful for? Have you have experiences with trainers that simply weren’t good fits? Why? What made you choose your current trainer?

Being brave is something I have struggled with since a child, and is one of the biggest mental challenges I deal with as an adult amateur.

I tend to assume that professional riders are where they are today not because of bank rolls and nice horses, but because of their lack of fear, or ability to mine courage where seemingly none exists. To me it goes hand in hand with the grit that is required of making a living from riding horses. Sometimes I dream of the fences I would jump if only I weren’t so cowardly, or how far along I would have progressed in my riding career if only I hadn’t been scared to try more challenges along the way.

Tattoo that helps me find my mojo

Yet despite my apparent lack of balls, the situation is that I own a horse that is a downright worry-wort. And two weenies do not [obviously] make for a brave combination. Add in that, oh yeah, we’re eventers, and bravery is kind of a necessary quality in this sport.

Jack is therefore teaching me to be brave, every ride. My trainer has embedded a mantra in my head for all those times he goes to look or spook at something- and that’s this:

Don’t tell him what not to do. Only show him what to do.

Here Jack, let me show you how to ditch

So if he gets tense, I shouldn’t also get tense- instead I should sit deeply, remind him to focus on the rhythm and going forward. It’s been a huge learning curve to go against instinct and not clutch the reins in panic, but slowly and surely I’m becoming a more reliable partner for my giant scaredy cat. Which I need to be- because as George Morris puts it, every second in the saddle you are either training the horse or untraining the horse. And if I have any hope of creating a confident partner in Jack, I need to be brave myself and show him the way.

Is finding courage something you also struggle with? How do you overcome your fear in the saddle? Is your horse one that gives you confidence, or do you also find yourself being the brave one? What tips or tricks do you have for squashing fear?

The weather seems to be distinctly schizophrenic at this time of year, which makes managing ponies a little difficult. With highs fluctuating from the 70s to the 50s, and lows in the 40s, layering is pretty much the name of the game. But for horses, that’s a little difficult.

A before image of the giraffe

Jack is a bit of a ninny in some ways, especially when it comes to bath time. I’ve discovered that the key to getting him not to dance around is to use hot water. Even if it’s 75* outside, cold water is still an affront on his soul. So with that bit of knowledge tucked away, and the work load getting no lighter, it was only likely that he would get clipped sooner rather than later.

If he’s moving it’s harder to see how jacked up it is!

Normally I like to wait until mid-end of November to clip, and clip once and be done with it. I’m a fan of a full body clip if I can get away with it, and admit that I hate the look of hairy legs on a svelte body. But Jack isn’t so hairy at this point, just enough so that getting him dry quickly after a good workout is still tough. So I opted to leave the legs on (for now) and leave a patch for the saddle, since he has some pressure bumps (or something) that makes clipping a little precarious anyway in that area.

hello dapples!

Blending his face was a little difficult, and I bet I’ll be doing my fair share of tidying him up before our next show in a couple weeks. But still, I’m hoping he’ll be more comfortable now and maybe we can avoid baths altogether for the most part.

When do you plan to clip? Do you have a multi-clip timeline? What pattern do you intend to do? Or do you prefer your pony au-natural for the winter? Does anybody plan on doing a fun “brand” or marking on their horse?

Let’s start off the week with a little sizzle, shall we?? Because this is sure to be a heated conversation.

I may be a dog lover, but in many ways I wish most folks would leave man’s best friend at home. In my opinion, many of the dogs seen at horse shows really shouldn’t be there. Unless you as a responsible pet owner, and your perfect pooch can meet the following criteria, I say leave them at home.

We’ll start with the obvious: Is your dog acclimated to horses?
And not just well behaved, half-dead ponies. But does Pongo handle baby antics, horses spooking in their direction, galloping by their faces, or snorting/bucking/farting right in front of their eyeballs with quiet aplomb? If Fido shows any interest in joining the melee that is any Beginner Novice warm-up (much less a big event), he should stay behind.

Any dog that gets excited about giant animals running around, and may be inclined to bark at them or give chase is NOT an appropriate horse show dog. And personally, I don’t appreciate being part of your pet’s social experiment when I, and any other rider, has put goodness knows how many hours of work, and probably even more money, in getting ready for our outing. I paid for my right to be there, and I expect to be able to give my horse a safe and positive outing; despite what is often taken for granted, dogs do not have an inherent right to be at horse shows.

If you are working an event or horse show, please leave Fido at home. And if you are a jump judge on the cross country, seriously- why? The number of judges I have seen bring their pooch to sit with them on XC is staggering, and truthfully, completely inappropriate. For one, unless you can guarantee (and you can’t) that your dog will not be a distraction to either yourself (who is there to act as steward of the sport, making sure that each pair passes safely through and being on hand in case an accident happens- which how will you be able to react quickly should a rider fall at your fence when you have a dog to be responsible for? Do you let go of the leash? Or what?) OR a distraction to the horse (which is hopefully not dog-averse, totally focused on the job at hand and won’t notice the furry creature doing God knows what some feet from the fence)… Just don’t. And if you bring a dog that is known to bark at horses (or other dogs, or humans, or invisible pixies living in the woods), shame on you if you bring a dog to jump judge with you. Take a look at this video and tell me that doesn’t inflame your senses.

Now let’s look at you, responsible owner that you are. Can you hold a leash? Great. Assuming that you are the greatest leash-holder ever and will basically be cabled to Miss Princess the entire show, let’s go over a couple other requisite skills. Have you taught your dog sit/stay/shut up? Have you socialized your dog with other dogs before coming? Are you willing to make amends to your schedule should it not suit your pup’s abilities? Or will your dog be one of many that end up being mentioned over the loudspeaker at Rolex, because it got loose/got left in a hot car/got overheated because your bassett hound couldn’t keep up with Boyd Martin on the course walk.

There are those that are willing to meet all of these requirements, and have a full understanding of how their dog can be just another respectful spectator at a horse show competition. And for those folks, power to you. I’m glad that you will do what it takes to be a good horseperson and do what you can to keep the show as safe [as possible] for the rest of us. Horses and dogs can be together in a busy competition environment if approached responsibly, and I wouldn’t want to be the person to deny the better-behaving people [and dogs] that right.

How do you feel? Do dogs have a spot at horse shows? How should dog owners approach bringing their dogs to a competition, and what rules (or not) should be in place to keep everyone safe?