I am exhausted, and I really should be sleeping on this flight. But in true horse-crazy fashion, I couldn’t get my mind off of riding, so I pulled out my laptop to write. I figure 10,000 ft up is as good a time as any to write about Sept. 21–22’s hunter jumper show.
By all accounts, I was not ready to show. A lot of things got in the way of our preparation: I was out of town, my trainer was out of town, oh and have I mentioned that I dislocated my shoulder? In fact, by September 21, I could count the number of times I had jumped post-injury on one hand with fingers to spare. But despite it all, we put on our big girl breeches and did the dang thing.
In my last blog, I talked a bit about fear. I won’t repeat myself in detail here, but the TL;DR is that I did not feel confident going into the show weekend. Just days prior, I was nervous about jumping 2 ft verticals — something that was obviously going to be a problem if I was planning to show 2’ 3” (which is well below what we were jumping in May). I’m so thankful that I powered through, with some helpful pushing from my trainer and boyfriend. The experience renewed a sense of confidence I don’t think I would have gotten from simply training. I’m also grateful that my trainer Sara gave me the option to show at 2’6” or 2’3”. Whether she realized it or not, this did a number of positive things for my mental state.
- I didn’t have to worry about disappointing her by asking to show at a lower level. Pre-injury we had talked entering the 1-meter classes, so 2’3” was a far jump from that. I don’t actually think that Sara would have cared one way or another if I had asked to jump lower, but my anxiety brain was freaking out about it. Plus, I absolutely hate disappointing people I care about. It’s probably one of the mental barriers I struggle most with.
- By giving me the choice, she was giving me ownership over my own destiny. My success (or failure, I suppose) was fully in my hands. I decided to jump at that height, and when I succeeded, it felt like I accomplished something that I set out to do.
- The choice lowered my fear. Something about the act of choosing 2’3” or 2’6” made the smaller course seem more manageable. It was like I was saying “2’6” might be a little much right now, but I know we can succeed at 2’3”.”
Show Day
The day of the show arrived, and we were blessed with afternoon class times which meant plenty of time in the morning for warmup. I tacked up Cuvée for a nice 30-minute power session of Dressage. We worked on transitions, bending, adjustability within the gates, and flying changes. 30 minutes later, he was on my aids, changing swiftly from behind, and quite sweaty. It was time for a bath.
About an hour later the horses were bathed, and we headed over to the show grounds to walk the course.
This is when the nerves set in. I hadn’t stepped foot in a hunter jumper show ring in nearly 10 years. Floods of memories and emotions came rushing back. My ridiculous fear about botched striding sprang to mind as I traced the course.
The nerves shadowed me throughout the process of tacking up Cuvée. They stayed in lockstep with me as I walked with him over to the show grounds. Thankfully, one of Sara’s other rides who wasn’t showing that day, held Cuvée for me while I waited to get on. Every time I walked over to him, a rush of nervous energy would well up in my chest.
The 2’ class concluded, and it was time to get on and warm up.
I swung my right leg over Cuvée’s back, settled into the saddle, and breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting atop this horse in his adorable maroon bonnet and matching saddle pad, the anxiety melted away. I was right where I was supposed to be — ready to take the next big step in recovery with my four-legged partner.
We walked over to the warmup arena to wake Cuvée up and get his blood flowing. We did transitions, he spooked (gracefully!) at a wheelbarrow, and we popped over a floaty white vertical in the center of the arena. To be quite honest, it might have been the most effortless jump we did all weekend. I was ready for my first round.
If you read my last entry, you know it did not go off without a hitch. First jump, awesome. Second jump? Yeah, I fell off cuz he refused. 🙄
I walked towards the arena gate, locked eyes with Sara, and began to laugh. There were no nerves, no fear, just amusement at the saga* that this had become.
*we had fallen off the week prior too.
I was more than ready to get back on and conquer that stupid jump. In fact, once the initial amusement wore off, all I felt was annoyance. Annoyed that I hadn’t sat back, annoyed that I hadn’t anticipated that he’d balk at that jump (it looked ~weird~), annoyed that I fell off. Again.
Remembering that Cuvée sometimes needs a little verbal encouragement, I insisted that we were going over it the next time around.
“GO! GO GO GO GO GOOOOOOOOO!!!,” I growled at him a few strides out. He did and sailed over the scary brown fence with more than a few inches to spare.
The rest of the weekend flew by smoothly. We knocked a rail, struggled to get the striding on one fence in particular, and went just a tad bit too fast on a few rounds. But otherwise, it was flawless! In fact, we came away with two 2nds, one 3rd, and one 5th place ribbon! We were ONE point away from receiving reserve champion for the weekend. One or two more prep sessions and that championship would have been ours! 🥇
But ribbons and winning wasn’t the point. It was about experience, confidence building, and fun. All of which we achieved — the ribbons were just an added bonus. 😊
I went into the weekend riddled with nerves about the 2’3” fences in front of me, and left feeling like the height was totally easy.
Now we just gotta conquer that stupid pale purple flower jump in our home arena. I’ll report back when we accomplish that.
