Stalled

  From the Fresh Perspective of Admiral Nelson

It’s been an exciting month.  At the present, I find myself bouncing off the walls as I can hardly contain myself.  Where to begin…

You know the grass is always greener saying, well it’s true.  I can prove it to you.  Just come visit.  Since moving to our new home last November, we’ve been cooped up in paddock just big enough for me and my pals.  Although there was plenty of room to dodge Nutmeg’s attacks, the food was basically limited the dried stuff supplied twice a day, and the pony is an awful pig!  To make matters more aggravating, just across the fence loomed lush pasture.  Well, they finally let us out there and boy was it glorious.  I ran like I haven’t run in years.  Still can’t figure out why they retired me from the track.  Who cares if my style is tail held high?  It doesn’t create that much drag… but I digress.  I’m not going to complain, I’ve got grass after all, but if you take a good look you’ll see the grass in the next field is just a little greener.  Maybe she’ll let us out there next.

Well that was the first treat, then I got to go to a show!  It’s been a really long time since mom gave me the privilege of going somewhere by myself.  We’ve made a few trips with Nutmeg and we’ve been to a couple of schoolings, but she keeps making me stay home when pampering and performance is in order.  Something about the pocket book.  Anyway, I got to go!  We even spent the night.  It was a beautiful old brick barn with nice big stalls.  They hold something called the State Fair there every year, but I think it should be a year round horsey spa.  I didn’t get to jump, just prance around between the white boards and flowers, but I tried really hard to behave myself.  I’m a little out of shape and that makes it difficult to hold myself together, especially in the canter.  But mom was pleased that we made mostly straight lines and roundish circles.  She gave me extra cookies for putting on my brave pants.

Nutmeg was extremely jealous that I got to ride in the fancy new trailer without her, but after about five minutes she relented and welcomed me home.  We spent the next couple of days relaxing and stomping flies.  Mom finally relented and gave us our fly sheets.  It been so hot and dry I haven’t been able to get my daily mudpack and the flies were beginning to get very irritating.  I guess that’s what sent Nutmeg over the edge.  Maybe she thought I was an over-sized green head.  I don’t know, but boy can she kick.  Now I know why mom likes to ride her.  She’s got some muscle in that hind end!  She nailed my stifle, but it just barely nicked the skin, so I figured no big deal.  Oh did it hurt though.  I tried to be tuff and not let it show.  I did a pretty good job too, if I didn’t have to move.  My grazing muscles work just fine thanks, but mom got worried.  She harassed me pretty thoroughly then decided on further torture.  I tried to tell them that getting into the trailer was not a good idea.  It’s like they didn’t believe that my leg hurt and trying to stand up in a moving vehicle wasn’t going to be fun.  Sometimes when you’re a horse, you’ve just got to do what you’re told, so I hobbled up the ramp (I sure hope Nutmeg was too busy throwing a fit to notice) and away we went.

It was so hot and it hurt.  I know mom was driving carefully, but it was still stressful.  I was pretty sweaty by the time we reached our destination.  Talk about horsey spa!  They had cool air!  I didn’t think we were in the trailer that long, but the place we ended up had a totally different climate.  It was wonderful.  Plus I had a whole host of people petting me and telling me I’m such a good boy.  I mean, I know it’s true, but it’s still nice to hear it every once and a while.  After the petting, they did some interesting contorting of my body.  True to form I was an all-star.  Maybe my next profession will be a horsey Yoga instructor.  Mom was so pleased with me.  She petted me and scrubbed my forehead and refused to leave my side.  My entourage did a little more poking, but then they left me alone in a comfy stall.  Thank goodness because I had to pee!  I don’t know what it was they stuck me with, but my bladder went into overdrive.  That would be my only complaint, some bedding to prevent splash back would be much appreciated.  Mom got a big old goodie bag, then it was back to the heat and the trailer.

I was so glad to be home and my leg was killing me, so I didn’t mind that I got to spend the night in my stall.  Nutmeg wasn’t very pleased though.  I guess she’s adopted me as her personal fly swatter.  She’s got the pony.  I don’t see the problem, but I guess I’m loved and that’s not so bad.  I’m getting to eat some yummy new food.  It’s all mushy and has kind of a weird after taste, but it makes me feel great!  My leg hardly hurts at all!  Which is why I’m now spending most waking moments circling my stall.  One of these days mom will see I’m all better and LET ME OUT!  She has consented to letting me graze in hand a bit each evening while she grooms me, but I’d really prefer to be out with my friends.

The excitement has come to an end.  Now I’m just looking out my window, snacking on my hay and dreaming of the day when I get to go back outside.  The pony comes in to keep me company each night, but the days are pretty boring.   My plans for taking over the Main Show Pony spot have stalled.   At least I’m here.  I’ve got food, I’ve got water, I’ve got a mom who gives me a good scratch every day.  I have plenty to look at.  I can be content with that.

-          Admiral Nelson

Blue Collar Sports

If you’ve been living under a rock in a third world country with no internet access, then you may have missed the spectacle unfolding around this year’s U.S. Dressage Team.  Comedian Steven Colbert got wind that Ann Romney co-owns an Olympic hopeful and the chaos ensued.  (Click Here if you missed it) There have rebuttals and butts and some pretty poor off-takes, but the heart of the matter is that an Equestrian Sport is finally in the limelight.

They’ve always said any publicity is good publicity, but when you’re fighting a stereotype, that’s not always the case.  Colbert is doing his best to classify Dressage as anything but a “Blue Collar Sport.”  In fact, he’s making a case that only the wealthy and snobbish can appreciate and participate in dressage.

May I take a moment please, step up on my soapbox, and argue the other side.

First, I’m assuming “Blue Collar Sports” include the NFL, the MLB, the NBA, the NHL, and we can’t forget NASCAR.  These are the beer drinking, foam finger waving sports touted by Colbert.  Now I won’t  comment on the entertainment value of these “blue collar sports,” I’d simply like to do a little comparison.

Let’s talk cost of admission.  You’re average Major League Baseball ticket was around $25 in 2009 (Biz of Baseball).  Basketball would run you around $48.83 in 2007 (Sports Business Daily).  For NASCAR tickets, the sport loved by all colored necks and neckwear, it was “difficult to find much for less than $50,” in 2008 (NASCAR.com).  And for the American Pastime, football, well a ticket will set you back an average of $76.47 as of 2010 (CNN Money).  These prices are for single tickets and of course these are family events so you’ll be buying more than one on your blue collar minimum wage income.  At the USEF Dressage Championship there was no charge for general admission.  This is generally the case across the horse show world.  For headlining classes you may need a ticket but they generally run $5 or $10.  For special seating at classy events, you might find yourself paying around $50.  I’ve never professed to be much when it comes to math, but I like free to $5 or $10 much better thank you.  It actually fits in my “blue collar” budget.

How about the athletes themselves?  These are the folks the “blue collar” viewers are idolizing and cheering on.  Well, in 2011 the average NFL player earned 1.9 million dollars.  NHL players earned on average 2.4 million, MLB 3.34 million and the NBA topped it off at 5.15 million.  (NBA News) The average dressage horse doesn’t earn a salary, but they do have up-keep costs.  A recent Facebook post (reliable I know), estimates that the average up-keep on an Olympic caliber horse ranges from $29,900 to $50,500.  That’s pricey, but it doesn’t touch the salaries made in the “blue collar” sports.  Even if you include the purchase price, it’s a drop in the bucket comparatively.

Finally, what about a sport's tangibility?  Can you connect with the participants or are they just dots on your TV screen, telling you what soup to buy?  At a horse show, you can meet the stars, get autographs, take pictures, feed the horses carrots (with permission only please!), and talk to the riders.  When was the last time you ended up in the locker room at a football game?

Dressage isn’t a snooty sport by design.  Sure, we wear white pants and a velvet “hat,” but we try really hard to keep our pants clean so they last a long time.  No sliding in to second in those puppies.  Horses may be tall, but that doesn’t mean we never get off our “high horse.”  In fact, most of us try very hard to keep a level head and never take for granted the gift these horses give us.  I don’t expect non-horse lovers to understand.  You’ve got to spend the time to reap the rewards.  But don’t you think horse sports deserve a Fresh Perspective?  Besides what Blue Collar families’ little girl doesn’t dream of dancing with a horse?

Puzzle Pieces

I was the Puzzle Child.  Not that I was particularly strange (well, depends who you ask), but I was the kid that was always getting puzzles.  Always.  Birthday – at least one puzzle.  Christmas, you could bet on two, at least.  Party favor at someone else’s birthday – puzzle.  Grab bags and door prizes – puzzles.  Who knows why, but puzzles had a knack of finding their way into my possession. 

Most of those puzzles went unopened.  I like them well enough, but I was much too active to sit and stare at another piece of sky or is that water or maybe a blue bed spread.  My family did complete several of the big 3D puzzles, but I’ll admit the motivation there was solely to build a mansion for my Polly Pockets.  I remember being terribly disappointed to discover we’d received a defective puzzle.  Polly just couldn’t live in a castle that was missing a piece.  After all, it would be way too easy for her to fall through and I’d have to disassemble the whole thing to rescue her.

That’s the funny thing about puzzles.  Everyone thinks you have to have all the pieces or it just isn’t any good.  Thank goodness I found Eventing!  Sure having all the pieces gives you a much better shot at winning, but even if a few pieces aren’t quite in place, it’s still a blast!

The first event on our calendar this year was Longview (Mill Creek Pony Club Horse Trials) and we were definitely missing pieces.  Actually, it was a bit more like craters and quick sand formed most of our puzzle.  We spent a little under a month trying to fill in the gaping holes then headed to Queeny Horse Trials in St. Louis. 

What a beautiful event!  I’ve got to give the organizing team props.  This was the first event I’ve been to where they had the Port-a-Johns cleaned and emptied everyday!  People could have complained because the venue is quite spread out (about a mile from stabling to cross country and show jumping), but they provided ample transportation to and from and the path was very horse and bike friendly, plus beautiful to boot.  I didn’t catch a cross word all weekend.

As for our puzzle pieces, we picked up a couple in dressage, Relaxation and Submission.  It was our best test to date.  It was a bit sloppy on my part.  I made the decision to sacrifice precision for relaxation and I’m okay with that.  We can work on precision next.  This time it was great just to have a happy horse. 

Show Jumping is still where our holes are glaring.  I’m not sure why, but I was missing some fundamentals in my riding.  I stuck out my elbows, curled my wrists, collapsed my spine and braced against poor Nutmeg.  With all that going on it’s no wonder she braced right back and got a wee bit strong and flat.  Next goal: bring the relaxation from our flatwork to our jumping.

Cross Country was awesome.  Nutmeg is such a rock star when it’s time to gallop.  After walking the course, I had some pretty big questions about how well we’d get around (see Queeny Course Walk Post), but she proved to me once again that the field is what she loves.  We still have some skills to work on.  Our balance over rolling terrain is getting better but when you factor in big changes in elevation we lose it a bit.  Thankfully my neighbors have graciously offered me their land on which to ride so major hill work is in our future.

I was quite concerned I would forget something for cross country, vest, pinny, number, arm band, helmet, whip, etc., etc.  With a half hour hack out, there would be no going back for forgotten items.  Well, I forgot my watch, realizing it only as I pulled up to cross country warm-up.  Fortunately that is NOT a required piece of equipment and I just shrugged it off and figured time would take care of itself whether I was “watching” it or not.  Three cheers for Pony Club teaching pace and a bit of good luck.  With no idea where we were time wise, Nutmeg and I loped across the finish line six seconds under optimum!

That’s what I love about eventing and horses in general.  It’s okay to be missing a piece of the puzzle.  You’ll find it along the way or find a way to make it work without it.  There are very few absolutes (gravity, forward motion, Murphy’s Law, you get the idea).  Every horse takes a different ride.  Every jump takes different considerations.  Every phase takes different skills.  Whether  you put all the puzzle pieces together in one weekend and do very well, pick up some missing pieces or find holes you didn’t know about you’ll still have a wonderful time. 

Life isn’t an unopened puzzle.  It’s been well used and well loved.  You might have to put tape over a hole so Polly doesn’t fall through.  The box top that shows the design might be worn well beyond recognition.  Take the pieces you’ve got and start making something of them.  You’ll start to see the design.  You’ll learn where the holes are so you can look for the missing pieces in the couch cushions and who knows, the dog may have eaten a piece or two.  You might have to do without, but it’s still worth piecing it together.  You’ll have a Fresh Perspective when you’re done.

Queeny Course Walk

For those of you who weren't there, but want a blow-by-blow.  Here's what I thought when walking cross country and how it actually rode.

Fence 1:

Quite an imposing first fence.  Its actually a very friendly shape but max height and width.  Its a great "Are you out here to play or not" question.  Plus at certain times during the day it had quite a bit of glare.  My plan was to get a good forward pace right off the bat and treat it almost like a steeple chase fence.  We came out of the start box and got right down to business.  This was probably one of our best jumps.  Nutmeg ate it for lunch!

Fence 2:

Pretty friendly fence although still substantial in size for early on a Novice course.  It came shortly after a heavily limed path through the woods.  I was more concerned with how Nutmeg would react to the dark path then this jump.  She took both in stride.

Fence 3: 

Not as big as the first two, but pretty upright.  This fence is actually a half coop.  The opposite side looks like a coop and this side is much more vertical.  The only trick here was to not get to flat and risk hanging a leg.  We got a little close, but jumped it just fine.

Fence 4 and 5: 

Both 4 and 5 were very straight forward fences, but the terrain played a factor with fence 4.  As you can kind of see from the photo, the approach to four makes it look like you're jumping off into a deep valley.  It is a slight drop but if you were quick you could bend to the left and follow the contour around to five and very friendly fence past the trees.

Fence 6: 

This was a perfect half circle from 5.  If you were trying to be quick and save time and cut the corner you would end up approaching 6 at an imposing angle with the Prelim jump messing with your focus.  If you rode well around the corner it presented a much nicer approach.  It is quite vertical, so even with the hay bales it is more of a bouncy fence then a gallop fence.

Fence 7:

The Ditch.  Enough said.  Pretty much as straight forward a ditch as you can get.

Fence 8:

An Unofficial Poll votes this as the "Most Beautiful Fence on Course."  A mini version of the hammock at Rolex.  Its a great forward galloping fence.  I was slightly concerned Nutmeg would give it the eye.  In the past when she's looked at jumps, they've been bright jumps like this.  My plan was to boldly ride forward and we did.  She didn't even blink.  We got a bit of a long spot, but I had already decided for this fence long was better then a chip.

Fence 9:

From fence 8 you had to cross the gravel road and then ride up a little bump to 9.  Sometimes horses can find the opening a bit spooky, but I wasn't concerned much about Nutmeg who is generally quite bold.  I did end up taking this fence at a slice.  We had such a large jump over fence 8 that I didn't get across the road as quickly as I would have liked, leaving me little room to wiggle and get straight, so we just rode the slice.  No big deal.

Fence 10:

This was both a light to dark question and a bit of a drop fence.  My plan for the first part of the course was to gallop right along, then before this fence pack it back together.  From here things got a bit technical then we had to go down the big hill.  I didn't want to get to backwards to this fence because of the drop.  I didn't want Nutmeg to back off so far we wouldn't go over.  She actually came back so well we dropped to a trot for a step or two.  Just enough to change leads then over we went.  Since she came back so well, we were able to turn quickly after this fence instead of rolling down the hill and needing to climb back out before the next fence.

Fence 11:

Dubbed "The Mushroom" this puppy was tiny.  But tiny doesn't mean you can discount it. There is a lot to catch their attention right here.  Plus the finish line is at about 10 o'clock so there is a lot of activity beyond the clutter of jumps.  This is also a very vertical fence with a down hill landing, six strides (I think, can't quite remember) to the up bank and then two strides to the down bank.  We got in a bit of a fight about getting bouncy before this fence and ended up falling to a trot, but it worked.  It jarred our flow a bit and Nutmeg got a bit looky, but on we went.

Fence 13 and 14:

Thirteen doesn't look like much, but fourteen was substantial.  Plus its all down hill.  There are eight strides between the two fences and fourteen was a pretty good drop.  I definitely wanted to be balanced headed into this so we didn't get buried at fourteen or jump huge and go somersaulting down the hill.  Thankfully Nutmeg came back well and figured out the question.

Fence 15:

Almost a carbon copy of fence one, but at the bottom of the very big hill.  After coming down the hill you made a hard left and had three strides to jump this half round.  I was concerned about balance coming down the hill, but was confident that if I could make the turn and could get the impulsion to jump the jump.  We did end up trotting the last bit of the down hill so I could get her together, but that made the turn easier.  We picked up our canter and over we went.  I will say that we are going to be working very hard at keeping our balance up and particularly down hill.  While coming back to a trot worked, it upset our rhythm enough that Nutmeg got a bit confused.  I owe it to her to be able to ride a steady round.

Fence 16:

The water jump was a gallop in, jump out question.  The out had some blue plastic tarping showing.  I'm not sure that's what caught Nutmeg's attention, but she wasn't entirely focused through the water and I had to work to get her straightish for the out.  That left us on "Plan B" for fence 17.  Plan A was to ride a bending line and get straight.  With her being a bit back, I decided to kick on and once again slice.  It actually rode quite well on the direct route.

Fence 18:

This is probably the fence that had me most concerned.  Not that banks are a problem for us, but this bank is on the way up a substantial hill and it isn't a small bank.  It was all I could do to climb up it when I walked the course and I was concerned that I wouldn't have Nutmeg enough on her hunches to power up it.  I shouldn't have been worried.  The hill actually really helped me get Nutmeg's butt in gear and she hopped up the bank like it wasn't even there.

Fence 19:

The final fence!  You had a choice in approaches, either snaking in from the right or from the left.  I didn't think it would really matter and the footing was a bit better on the left, so we took the left approach, drifted right, so we could get a slight left to right slice.  You can't really see it in the photo because it blends in with the grass, but just across the road there is a sign right in the galloping path.  I took the slight slice so I wasn't heading right for the post on landing.

And there you have it.  The whole Queeny Novice Cross Country Course.  Be glad you didn't have to walk it.  That hill is a killer!

Inches

This video will give you goose bumps. 

                                                 (Sorry about the language)

I’ve seen it before, but after our last go round at Longview I watched it with a fresh perspective.

I’ve been fighting an internal battle, trying to find a balance between being happy and being a perfectionist.  By purposely expecting less than perfection, I’ve swung the pendulum in the opposite direction.  I’ve been happily, slowly bring the next horse along.  Whereas, I used to ride each movement with clarity of mind, focus and precision, now my clarity is clouded, my focus fuzzed, precision periodic and I’m not happy with the results.  I could make excuses, but when it comes down to it, I just can’t give an inch.

To win, even to be competitive you have to ride every stride, every inch.  A moment’s loss of concentration and you’re out of the ring – eliminated, or at least out of contention.  Yet you can’t yield when something goes wrong, because it always will.  You have to pick yourself up outside the ring and jump back in.  You have to kick on after a terrible first fence and finish your course.  You have to keep fighting for that clarity, focus and precision one inch at a time in order to survive.

Thankfully, any sport with horses is a team sport.  No one is perfect all the time and you have your partner to pick up the slack when you let go.  They’ll take the inch for you, but only if it is a team.  That means you’ve spent time establishing a relationship, not dominance but a partnership where both rider and horse agree to some common rules and goals.  Obviously you can’t make Mr. Ed sign a contract, but by never giving an inch in your standards, he’ll quickly learn where the boundaries lie.

It takes time. Teams come together in the tough times when one must rely on the other.  Horses quickly learn which humans bring the food, which human digs the rock out of their foot, which human sits up with them all night when their tummy hurts.  Humans aren’t so smart.  It generally takes a pretty spectacular save on the horse’s part to show us they have our backs, but they do.  And while the tough times form the team, the good times cement it.

So for a Fresh Perspective, remember every inch is worth fighting for.  Whether you’re forming a partnership or riding the last fence on your way to a victory gallop, ride every stride.  Take every inch.  Then celebrate.  You’ll have way more fun if you do it right!

Dreams Do Come True

Twenty-six plus hours of driving, $400 in diesel, $22 in food, driving down a mountain in a deluge and hail storm, and a rude awakening by a street sweeper.  It was all completely worth while when Nutmeg dragged my husband back into the trailer.  And so the tale begins…

I’m not the world’s best listener.  I do try and I’m striving to hone that skill, but it just doesn’t come naturally.  So, sometimes to communicate, you’ve got to tell me bluntly and if you’re my horse, sometimes you have to stamp your foot.

Nutmeg has been trying to tell me for some time that she doesn’t fit comfortably in my two horse slant.  She didn’t like to load, but with patience we got over that.  She sweats up a storm even in the most ventilated trailers.  Most recently she started threatening to explode out the back when it was time to unload.  I finally listened.  So even though I love my Soft Touch, it was time to sell it and move on to something a bit roomier. 

The Cadillac of horse trailers is the EquiSpirit.  Designed with horse safety and comfort first, they set the standard.  I dreamed of owning one, but knew I’d have to settle for something less.  So, I scoured the trailer sale ads and sent out hundreds of emails requesting dimensions.  I quickly came to the conclusion that they don’t make a slant stall big enough for her highness, so we switched to straight loads and the search continued.   

It’s not difficult to find a two horse straight load.  It’s more difficult to find a straight load for three horses.  (Having three on the place and only a two horse has been a continued source of nightmares.)  It’s even more difficult to find a 2+1 that is anywhere near affordable.  Then it happened.  A 2005 EquiSpirit 2+1 Safe Load popped up in my search.  Too good to be true.  Perhaps, but one never knows.

We dotted our “i’s” and crossed our “t’s.”  I asked every question I could possibly think of before setting out on a journey that would take us across four states covering some 1400 miles, hoping that it would be the real deal.

It’s wonderful to travel with your best friend and the hours flew by.  Although I’m not known for uneventful trips (see A Reputation for Trouble and Roller Coasters), this one was pretty darn smooth.   The road closure in Nashville we skipped around with adventurous driving on my part (thanks Mom) and excellent navigating by my husband with help from the dog.  The pop-up monsoon as we started down what we later learned was Mt. Eagle was less fun, but no less thrilling.  If you’ve never seen water carrying a car across the banking of the road in front of you through your hi-speed wipers, you just wouldn’t understand.  Thankfully the quarter size hail waited until we were near the bottom as it quickly littered the road.  As soon as pulling over became an option, the sun came out.  Go figure.

The trailer was “as advertised” for the most part, so we hooked up and headed home.  I have to once again give my husband credit.  With an overly full bladder, he still managed to patiently adjust the stinger height on the trailer and do a bit of rewiring.  He also managed to give himself a softball size bruise on the back of the arm, with only an “oww” to alert us that he had actually made contact with the trailer when the wrench slipped.

We made it to the foothills before I chickened out and we pulled over for the night.  That’s the great thing about goosenecks.  With a little preplanning and packing some camping pads, you can save yourself a hotel bill and still get some shut-eye.  Unfortunately, in that parking lot, they apparently run a street sweeper at about four in the morning.  It helped us get an early start at least.

A few other lessons learned on the trip.  St. Louis gas stations are not likely to have diesel, their subdivisions are not horse trailer friendly, and my husband can teach even me to back if I’d just listen.  Also, never ever trust little sports cars, even if they are three lanes over.  They might suddenly decide to occupy the place right in front of your bumper for no reason.  Thankfully we just had the breaking system redone and it works very well. 

We obviously made it home safely.  I couldn’t help but load the horses up to see what they thought of their new transportation.  Nutmeg was a little worried at first, but settled right in.  She thought the front unload ramp was intriguing.  In fact, after unloading she turned right around and invited herself back inside.  Apparently she thoroughly approves.  Admiral was a little jealous that he had to back out instead of walk out forward, but I think he’ll get over it.

It was a long trip, and not our first choice for one of my few weekends off, but seeing Nutmeg content inside a trailer made it completely worth it.  Next time something needs to change, I hope I’ll take a Fresh Perspective and hear her right away.

Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

A picture is worth a thousand words.  A movie is magic.  After a nail biting two weeks leading up to Longview, we were thrilled just to be there.  Perhaps a bit too thrilled.  Concentraition lapsed a bit, taking the pressure off early on.

We were blessed with an extremely understanding and compassionate Dressage Judge.  Thank you Lori Hoos!  We were permitted to continue our test for practice sake (we both agreed it was much needed!) and she took the time to score the test as well.  Above and beyond, thank you, thank you.

She was also kind enough to deem us, "Not a safety hazard" so we were permitted to ride cross country.  That was the shinning moment of the weekend.

Nutmeg was a rock star, even balancing herself up before the steps with just a thought from me.  I was curious to see how she'd react to the ramp up and the bank off, but it was one of the nicest pieces of the course.  It was really an excellent trip around and I'm well pleased.  I'll have more video thanks to the hard work and diligent walking/running of my husband and my father when I figure out how to get it off the camera.

Show Jumping was messy.  I thought we were locked on and cruising to the first fence, but I thought wrong.  Complacency isn't going to cut it.  Its time to up our game.

So that's where we sit.  We've got a lot of work to do, mainly mentally.  I'm in a tough spot.  I ride because I love it.  In the past I've found a balance between perfectionism and fun.  I need to find that place again.  More on that journey to come.