Lost in Translation

I haven’t written in a while – but everything is going well!

Proof that we are still at it: GiGi enjoying her new stall guard. I’m told she utilizes it often.

This summer is CRAZY. And the last few weeks have been a frustrating time to ride: It’s just hot and rainy. Every day. When it’s not hot and rainy, I have to be somewhere: baseball with Luke or driving back and forth to Southport to participate in the never-ending boat repair saga or the dog gets sick and needs to go to the vet. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes that I still have a life to attend, lol. I’m still getting out there to ride in some capacity about 4 times a week, but I’d like to see her more. I miss her when I’m not there (although she might not feel the same way about me, lol). The barn is definitely my happy place.

I’m having sort of a bummer day about my riding. I had a lesson this morning, which I knew was not going to go well before I even got there as I was really sore and tight from riding yesterday and I just felt…drained. I hate feeling this way going into a lesson. I know that whatever challenges – however small at this stage – will not be met with the best version of myself. This sounds crazy, right? Oh, but I’m so competitive. I’m so competitive, I’m compete with myself.

Since this journey began, I’ve had quite a few people tell me I’m too hard on myself. Perhaps they worry that I miss the joy of all this because of it (My sister would assure you: I am quite joyful.)? Maybe they think it’s not healthy (My sister would probably say: Maybe?)? I’m not sure. It’s a puzzle to me, this reaction. I’m probably confused because I come from a long line of ultra-competitive people, so this is sort of programmed in my genome.

We are all competitive freaks of nature in this gang. Each of us has our own thing we are SUPER competitive about, but then the tendency to want to be “the best around” sort of creeps into everything else from board games to telling a joke. Our family can be summed up by a singular 80’s movie clip and song:

So with all that being said, I have relatively high hopes for me and this mare. And while I’m realistic in knowing we have many, many months of work ahead of us to achieve some of these goals, I can be a little hard on myself. I want to see progress every day, however small, and when we take a step back, I can feel…flustered.

Right now, the things we are working on are so trivial and silly: responding to leg cues, regulating tempo, not staring at “monsters” outside the ring. Gigi is a bit of a slow starter. She’s pokey and lazy and obstinate about any leg I give her the first twenty minutes or so. I have to work so hard to get her to move, I’m a sloppy mess. After the first twenty minutes, she’s a steam train. The slightest bit of leg contact and she’s roaring around the ring. Any correction with the reins and she arches her neck to avoid contact and then runs through my hands. It’s like riding two different horses in every lesson. She’s a challenge for me.

I’ve tried a few different things to work through this with small degrees of success, but today’s lesson was just not up to my standards. It wasn’t horrible, it was just…frustrating. I spent the day watching Olympic jumpers and musing over this situation. Why was yesterday such a good day for us and today so not good? What was the difference?

I finally decided that the difference was I had fresh legs and my patience pants on. And also, I was consistent yesterday. Today, under the watchful eye of my instructor, I wanted immediate results and didn’t take my time. When she didn’t respond to my hectic signals, I rushed around trying to force her into a frame she didn’t want to be in and throwing a dozen confusing cues at her that got lost in the mix. The result was just…bleh. After our lackluster performance, my instructor also made the disappointing suggestion that we refrain from jumping a while longer, until we’ve got the flat figured out. It’s an honest and accurate call on her part, but a little deflating for me, as I’d hope we’d be over the hump after a month or so. But alas, Instructor says: Negative. Student responds: Roger that.

But see, this is why I think my being competitive is a good thing. When I mess up, I don’t just dismiss it. A lot of careful thought goes into the play-by-play of my mistakes. What some might call obsession, I call thoughtful consideration. Some people can process all of this information in an instant, but sometimes it takes ALL DAY for me to realize something. Today, I realized I need to back off and take baby steps again. We need to focus on one goal each day, not a dozen. We need to simplify.

So we will simplify. And I will remind myself that these things don’t come overnight. I will be happy that this mare is uncomplicated, but challenging for me. That said, I can be reassured that I’m positive she’s not out of my league. As my clinician said last month, “Here’s the deal: You are speaking English and she’s speaking Spanish. The good news is, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve. You know a couple of slang words and enough of her language to get around town, you just need to work on your fluency.”

And he’s right. I’m just learning to speak Spanish right now. And I will try to forget (at least for a while) about the almost fluent rider I used to be and accept the rider I am right now. And we will move forward. Which is why you shouldn’t worry about us. Worry when I don’t show up tomorrow. Worry when I say I want to quit.

In the meantime, enjoy these hilarious photos of me in the show attire that just came in the mail today:

Darn it, my trash can is in this shot.

 

Casual show Becky. Collar popped! Cheers!