Riding isn't "important" in my life - it's everything that makes me who I am. Three Day Eventing shapes you, and cuts away the "flab" to really show you the kind of person you are.
Before I started riding horses I was painfully shy and didn't really have a spine. The first time a trainer handed me a riding crop I nearly cried. I didn't want to kick a horse, or wear spurs, or make them do anything they don't want to do. Which, for most lesson horses, is just about everything.
Riding taught me to get mad. It's a weird concept but when I got stuck with a bucking lesson horse who I was SURE hated me, I learned to get mad, and learned how to assert myself over his exuberant, bratty personality. I hate getting mad in the aspect of taking out that anger on your horse and do my best to never reprimand a horse more than is needed... but sometimes they need it. I also learned to push myself - to get mad at a sliding leg or at a stupid rail that we took because I screwed that up, and let it burn up my insides until I get it right. Moments where I "Get it Right" ring as the moments of most satisfaction in my riding career - like that time I did a perfect Karen O'Connor (as I term it) through a water complex. Being able to sit the drop, pick up my reins and turn off of my leg to the next related fence, get the perfect distance and then burn out is still a great memory for me. Riding forced me to grow a spine, because if I didn't, I'd be dead. Horses won't respect you if you don't respect yourself, and make them respect you even though you're 150 pounds of human versus a 1500 pound horse.
Riding has taught me to love routine, and repetition and has allowed me to find little goals and pursue them with a vengeance. Riding has taught me discipline, and has taught me to get the job done, no matter how I do it. Make it work. Make it happen. Phrases like that were not in my vocabulary naturally, and now they are something close to a mantra.
Without riding, and when I'm not on a horse, I'm an anxious, socially inept mess, but I can draw on the strength of will riding has instilled in me to keep calm, kick on and make it happen. I titled this blog "Keep Calm and Kick On" because it is a fundamental part of my riding. You have to say "F#$% it all!" and kick on - don't dwell on the past, or on the rail you just dropped, or the distance you just missed. You just have to move forward and go out and fight for every single fence, one at a time. There are days when you will be sitting on a flag-seeking missile of horse, but I go out of the box every time ready to fight, either way. I love the Visionaire article on Eventing Nation that refers to crops and spurs as "weapons of war" because I feel like they truly are. I don't want to use them, obviously, but I'm not going to to "battle" without them.
Horses have changed my life, they are my life and they are the best part of my life.
Am I obsessed, yet?
Before I started riding horses I was painfully shy and didn't really have a spine. The first time a trainer handed me a riding crop I nearly cried. I didn't want to kick a horse, or wear spurs, or make them do anything they don't want to do. Which, for most lesson horses, is just about everything.
Riding taught me to get mad. It's a weird concept but when I got stuck with a bucking lesson horse who I was SURE hated me, I learned to get mad, and learned how to assert myself over his exuberant, bratty personality. I hate getting mad in the aspect of taking out that anger on your horse and do my best to never reprimand a horse more than is needed... but sometimes they need it. I also learned to push myself - to get mad at a sliding leg or at a stupid rail that we took because I screwed that up, and let it burn up my insides until I get it right. Moments where I "Get it Right" ring as the moments of most satisfaction in my riding career - like that time I did a perfect Karen O'Connor (as I term it) through a water complex. Being able to sit the drop, pick up my reins and turn off of my leg to the next related fence, get the perfect distance and then burn out is still a great memory for me. Riding forced me to grow a spine, because if I didn't, I'd be dead. Horses won't respect you if you don't respect yourself, and make them respect you even though you're 150 pounds of human versus a 1500 pound horse.
Riding has taught me to love routine, and repetition and has allowed me to find little goals and pursue them with a vengeance. Riding has taught me discipline, and has taught me to get the job done, no matter how I do it. Make it work. Make it happen. Phrases like that were not in my vocabulary naturally, and now they are something close to a mantra.
Without riding, and when I'm not on a horse, I'm an anxious, socially inept mess, but I can draw on the strength of will riding has instilled in me to keep calm, kick on and make it happen. I titled this blog "Keep Calm and Kick On" because it is a fundamental part of my riding. You have to say "F#$% it all!" and kick on - don't dwell on the past, or on the rail you just dropped, or the distance you just missed. You just have to move forward and go out and fight for every single fence, one at a time. There are days when you will be sitting on a flag-seeking missile of horse, but I go out of the box every time ready to fight, either way. I love the Visionaire article on Eventing Nation that refers to crops and spurs as "weapons of war" because I feel like they truly are. I don't want to use them, obviously, but I'm not going to to "battle" without them.
Horses have changed my life, they are my life and they are the best part of my life.
Am I obsessed, yet?
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