Why Compete?

Two months ago we were well on our way to Kentucky to compete in Nutmeg’s first out of state event.  I expected the competition to be even tougher as we headed east, so when a co-worker asked if we were going to win, I laughed.  “This isn’t the kind of sport where winning matters.  Sure it would be nice to get a ribbon, but the chances are quite low.  We’re going because it’s fun.”

No doubt this confuses many people.  Heck, it occasionally confuses me.  Why do we get up at crazy hours, spend precious resources driving across the country, punish our bodies, brains and emotions all to occasionally come home with a ribbon?  Why do we compete?

Cliché, but for me the reasons are like an onion.  The reason I generally verbalize is to have something to work toward.  It really helps to have an event to look forward to where you can showcase the skills you’ve been honing.  Hand-in-hand with that is the chance to check our progress.  When the crows and the cows are the only thing watching you ride, it’s easy to become complacent and overly confident.  It’s also easy to miss the improvements you are making.  An event is a great place to check your progress, not by comparing with others (although, really, who doesn’t), but comparing your performance to past performances.

The next layer of my Eventing Onion I stole.  Sinead Halpin wrote a great Blog for The Chronicle of the Horse (read it here: http://www.chronofhorse.com/article/inspiration-so-much-more-warm-and-fuzzy-feelings) about Inspiration and where it comes from.  She made an excellent point in that when we watch our peers and our betters compete, we are inspired.  Hopefully we are inspired to raise the bar and to become better, to emulate the greats, but occasionally the inspiration comes in the form of, “I’m NEVER going to look like that.”  At least that form of inspiration offers a bit of comic relief.  Whatever the form, competitions are a great opportunity to open our eyes and get back in touch with what’s going on around us.

It’s selfish to some extent, but I also like competing because it’s a chance to see my friends!  We may not snuggle around cups of hot coco sharing feel good stories, but I cherish the time spent braiding or tack cleaning as the sunsets.  Its real and its comfortable and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Which brings me to the final layer of my Eventing Onion, quiet.

The world is a hectic place.  Every day we have more “to do” then we can possible get done.  Demands are made of our every second.  Why take a needless stroll around the office when you can check Facebook one more time?  It’s hard to find solitude, a place away from computers, cell phones and people.  Whether its braiding in our stall, doing the late night check, hand grazing or riding cross country, eventing brings peace and solitude to my life.  Not that I don’t like having friends and family along, somehow even amongst the hustle and bustle of the show schedule the solitude is waiting.

I’m heading for that solitude now.  This weekend Nutmeg and I will go on a search for the predawn tranquility we find in a barn full of horses munching away before dressage.  We’ll seek out our own patch of grass to nibble on in silence.  We will leave the sound of the start box timer’s count down in the dust as we gallop into the stillness of cross country.  That’s why I compete.  I compete to find quiet in this chaotic world.

A Horse and Her Girl

“Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this.  For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.” – Henry Ford

Everyone has heard the “eyes are the windows to the soul” quote.  I wanted something more.  But, I have to give eyes credit.  They are what started this whole train wreck of thought.

Normal people talk of starring into the eyes of their lover, of getting lost in their gaze.  Being a far from normal person, I’ve been studying horse eyes.  To even the most casual observer, the eye can speak volumes.  Take for instance the whites of the eye showing fear or anxiety.  For the less casual horse watcher, the eyes tell a story.

 It’s not something I can always find words for.  I floundered around for a full minute when a co-worker asked me how I knew my horse wasn’t feeling well.  I couldn’t put her expression into words, but I knew exactly what it meant.  As hard as it was to explain, “I don’t feel good” is a pretty easy feeling to see.  A horseperson can generally see it in any horse, not just the horse’s with which they are well acquainted.  That being said, I’ve been eye gazing looking for something deeper.

Twice now I’ve been privileged to watch the evolution of a horse’s eyes.  Ironically, both horses have been mares.  It may be that Admiral came to me with his darling personality already in place or maybe mares bond with me on a different level.  I don’t know, but I’m beginning to believe it’s more than a fluke.

Icy Dawn and Nutmeg were both mares without much personality when I started working with them.  They’d show up for work and do the job.  Some days we’d fight.  Some days things went well, but that’s about as far as things went.  We weren’t companions and their eyes rarely spoke more than, “oh it’s you, food?”

I don’t remember when I first started noticing the change in Icy, but before the end we definitely developed a partnership that went beyond walk, trot, canter, and jump.  In the end, it was the look in her eyes that finally told me it was time to put her down.  Horses might not speak human, but their eyes hold a depth of communication.

Nutmeg has been a slow transformation.  I’d say it started when she had a small round of colic (stomach ache, but a little more serious).  I think being there to help ease her pain helped break down the initial wall.  From then on she understood that I could help and she was a little less off-put by my presence. 

We’ve done a lot together since then and each little excursion cements things a bit better.  Each time I take only Nutmeg to a show, she gets my undivided attention for the weekend and becomes a bit more comfortable in her personality.  This summer, while Admiral has been laid-up, she received the majority of the pampering.  She’s now wearing an almost constant expression of pride.  As much as it has pained me to watch Admiral withdraw his personality a bit, it’s been wonderful to watch her’s bloom.   There is a new depth to her eye.  It says, “I know who I am.  I’m your partner.”

The great eventers talk about the traits they look for in a horse.  Sound legs, big heart girths, athleticism.  I believe it was Jimmy Wofford who encourages riders to find a horse with “the look of an eagle.”  I’m not sure horses are born with “the look of an eagle.”  I think it is developed.  The long hours nurturing through an illness or injury, the time spent hacking down the road, sharing triumphs and defeats, hand grazing on a sunny afternoon.  Time matters, you can’t develop a relationship without it.  We develop as we experience.  Our relationships evolve as when share time.  So, take time.  Develop character.  Build relationships.  The best part, this Fresh Perspective doesn’t just apply to a horse and her girl.