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I fully admit that my idea of fun stuff and other people’s idea of fun stuff might not align, but… maybe there’s something here for everyone? This is my collection of the noteworthy stuff that’s happening so far on the internet this week. Don’t worry, it gets less heavy as we go along.

First of all there’s the video that literally everyone needs to watch, whether you’re pro-Safe Sport or anti-Safe Sport (ok perhaps especially if you’re anti). If you’re involved in equestrian sport, Safe Sport concerns you, and it’s your job to educate yourself. Period, full stop. Last week at the USHJA convention they live streamed a Q&A with SafeSport’s Michael Henry. Fair warning, it’s long, but I just listened to it during my commute and barn chores. The first hour and 20 mins or so is Michael walking everyone through the SS process, addressing a few common misconceptions, and clarifying what exactly they do. During this time he drops some pretty interesting statistics, like the fact that in the 2 years that SS has been open, they’ve had over 4000 cases and resolved 2800 so far across all sports. And of those, only 800 have resulted in any kind of violation (ranging all the way from a warning letter to a permanent ban). Only 2% end up with any kind of temporary measures (which can range from a no contact order up to a temporary suspension) in place while the investigation is ongoing. And of all the cases where a violation was found by SS, less than 1% got overturned in arbitration.

The Q&A part starts after that, and fair warning, it’s… cringey. Some of the anti-SS people are doing themselves no favors by being blatantly ignorant about the basic facts, and attempting to repeat complete falsehoods even after they’ve been corrected multiple times. If you want SS reform, by all means make it your cause, but at least get your facts straight and understand what it is and how it works. Otherwise you just look like an idiot on a video that the crowd in the room (and everyone watching) is laughing at. Awwwwkwaaarrd.

Moving on, I mentioned Monday that I’d listened to several of the live stream lectures from the USEA convention, and thankfully they’ve started to put some of them up online for replay. One in particular that was of great interest to me was “Why Aren’t US Event Horses Lasting Longer?”. If that’s not an attention-grabbing title I dunno what is. The panel for this one was particularly good: Erik Duvander (team coach), Matt Brown (ULR), Max Corcoran (a lot of things, but especially a top groom), Sam Watson (ULR), Dr. Susan Johns (vet).

click here to watch

They talked about everything from footing to frequency of events to basic rider choices. Yes, the discussion was geared toward top level horses, but IMO a lot of it applies all the way down the levels. The consensus was that while our harder footing tends to get much of the blame, it certainly can’t hold all the weight since other countries with equally hard (or harder) footing don’t have the injury rate that we do. The thing that really stood out to me were the stats based around how often horses were showing – the numbers they used were regarding horses at the Advanced level, of course, but still highlighted something that I thought warranted consideration even at the mid-levels. They found that with horses who had 3-5 starts per year, 71% of them had careers of 8 years or longer, whereas with horses that had 6 or more starts per year, only 22% had careers 8 years or longer. Is it perhaps both a blessing and a curse that people can event year-round in this country if they want to?

They also talk about our allowed usage of NSAID’s (some other countries don’t allow them at all and have totally clean sport), and how quick we seem to reach for them to alleviate symptoms rather than look more closely at the possible root cause. I think that’s also a fair point to consider, and something I see a lot. Horse feeling a little sore? Give it some bute and carry on!

I’ve been thinking about many of their points and chewing on what might translate (or not) to us folks further down the levels, but I feel like people should watch the entire discussion and see what they get out of it for themselves.

On a more fun note, EquiRatings fan voting for their Horse of the Year 2019 awards is in it’s semi-finals!

All of the horses I voted for in the first round made it through to the semis (yes ok I’m a traitor to my country by not voting for Tsetserleg, but he was up against friggin HALE BOB, one of my absolute favorites of all time, I just couldn’t), although my brain just about exploded at having to choose between Vanir Kamira and Rioghan Rua. Like I might have been sweating a little, cursor hovering back and forth between them, trying to pick. The polls are on the EquiRatings facebook page, and since it’s fan-based it’s more fun, so eventing fans – go vote!

Last but not least, I found out on Monday that I was the recipient of the Event Riders Association Amateur Impact award for 2019. I hadn’t realized before that ERA did special awards, but it’s a pretty cool honor and I already have someone in mind to nominate for next year. I know that Nadia was the one to nominate me this year, and it was really kind of her to think of me and throw my hat in the ring, so many thanks to you Nadia! This was definitely a highlight after what has been a bit of a challenging second half of the year.

That’s a lot of stuff happening for it to only be Wednesday.

Have you guys watched any of these videos yet? Thoughts? I’m really itching to discuss. We’ve got everything from SafeSport to drugs to show frequency to top event horse popularity all contained in one post, surely there’s something here worth talking about!

The good news is – knock on every wood surface available within reach – Henry has been sound since he got his fancy new sneakers put on. I gave him almost a week to acclimate, and to make sure that he’d stay looking good. He proceeded to gallop and perform sliding stops in his turnout everyday to the point where he took at least 5 years off my life in the process.

He’s a feral creature at the moment. Over a month off has done absolutely nothing for his brain cells, I’m relatively certain they all had a fight to death and now there’s only one left standing (and it’s a psychopath). There is a lot of snorting and tail flagging which I can only assume is the winning brain cell’s version of a victory celebration.

I decided to bring Henry back really slowly, since we never were quite sure why he was lame in the first place, and I don’t really trust it. We’ll very slowly ramp things back up and see how it goes. I’m in precisely zero hurry and would rather take way too long than rush things and increase the risk for re-injury.

So last week I finally swung a leg over and we went for a hack.

Correction: we tried to go for a hack. He’s so wild that it was more like a power march that often ended up sideways because there was a plant or an animal. Or because there wasn’t a plant or an animal. Either way. Terrifying, according to Henry.

On Sunday I hopped back aboard, this time adding a few minutes of trot to our hack. Which was, admittedly, a lot of borderline jigging and some seriously athletic teleportations. Early in the ride a big huge bird took off from a tree behind us. I didn’t get a good look at it, as Henry was already halfway to Houston, but it was a really big one. Naturally he spent the entire ride after that spooking at birds. Big birds. Small birds. Moving birds. Still birds. Invisible birds. Relatively certain we encountered every bird or non-bird but bird-like animal in the county. The best part was when they would stir in the trees after we’d already passed, and General Last-Remaining-Brain-Cell would take off first and ask questions later. If I die, it’s because of birds.

But his trot felt really good (I’m trying to ignore the fact that he clearly loves these stupid, massively expensive glue on sneakers) so… we’ll just keep taking it one ride at a time. Yesterday afternoon in turnout he was absolutely SPRINTING down the fenceline, farting and bucking like he was trying out for the damn rodeo while I yelled “OH MY GOD PLEASE DON’T DO THAT, IF YOU’RE LAME TOMORROW I’M GOING TO EAT YOU”. Horse really needs to get back to work before he gives me a damn heart attack.

Speaking of hearts, we got a new toy to try out, so I’m excited to put this on him today and see how it works. We might not get any particularly interesting data for a while (except spooking) but it’ll be fun to play with. Y’all know I love horsey technology. The Hylofit is definitely much easier/less complicated than the Seaver, although they’re a bit different in what data they collect. We’ll see how it goes! I can’t wait to see how my heart rate compares to his. At least I don’t spook at birds.

Last week I was nerding out (as one does when one is a nerd) over the USEA Convention live stream. One of these days I’ll actually make it to a convention in person, but until then I greatly appreciate that I can watch everything on the live stream. They cover lots of really good topics, from nutrition to fitness to course design. And almost without fail, every year I come away with a few really good little juicy tidbits to have a think about.

This time, the first one that really commanded my full attention was the “Having and Instilling Rider Responsibility” talk. A lot of it was the usual stuff – know your horse, be prepared, work with a trainer, know when to call it a day, etc. But the part that really got me thinking was when someone mentioned level-shaming. He talked about a woman who had been incredibly successful with her horse at Beginner Novice for years, winning a lot. She was very comfortable at that level and had fun with it, and never really wanted to go higher despite everyone else pressuring her about it. Eventually she got tired of all the comments and pressure and quit eventing entirely, electing to do dressage instead.

That made me sad.

There is a lot of truth in that though, there IS this constant feeling of “what’s next” and “move-ups” in the whole equestrian world, and eventing is certainly not immune. We have this tendency to say “it’s just beginner novice” or “it’s just novice” or “it’s just training”… on and on and on. I think that’s particularly true at BN and N, where it’s easy to feel discounted altogether. But the truth is that (according to a statistic in another presentation) 75% of the starters in the US are at Training level or below. The vast majority is at the lower levels. I’m not sure why there’s this particular lack of worth associated with competing at those levels… we wouldn’t exist as a sport without it.

Not to mention that, for non-pro’s, riding isn’t the only thing in people’s lives. It’s their fun thing, their outlet, their escape from the stresses of the real world. If someone wants to show up all season for the rest of their life and run BN – why not? If they’re happy at that level, and they’re safe and having fun, what difference does it make if they never move up? Some people genuinely want to move up the levels as high as they can make it. Other people want to challenge themselves to be the best they can at a level they feel comfortable at and have fun with. There’s nothing wrong with either approach.

Which got me thinking about the things we say to people, and the culture, and the power of our words and attitudes. I know, without a doubt, that I have absolutely level-shamed people before, albeit unintentionally. It’s somehow natural to say “so when are you planning that Novice move up?” in conversation and then if the person acts hesitant we tend to offer things like “oh but it’s just a few more inches, no big deal! Horses can still just trot over that!”. But that’s not fair at all, is it? First of all, some people don’t have a desire to move up, and it’s not our place to make them feel like they should. Why even ask? They’re allowed to enjoy the sport however they like.

Second of all, it’s rude AF to be dismissive about what to someone else is a big deal. If they bring it up and seem worried about it, why not elevate the person instead of demeaning the task. To me it might be a speed bump, but to someone else it might be a mountain (or vice versa). Words have so much power… we, myself very much included, have to be more thoughtful about how we use them, both to others and to ourselves. I never want to make anyone feel less than, or like they don’t belong. Truth be told, I think every single person brave enough to put themselves out here in this sport is an utter badass, no matter what level they’re running. This shit is hard.

During this discussion they mentioned that the entire point of this sport (for us non-professionals anyway) is to enjoy the time with our horses. The fact is, we’re not going to the Olympics, and that’s okay. At the end of the day, if you’re enjoying your horse and you’re happy with what you’re doing, nothing else really matters. If you like the level you’re at, you shouldn’t have to feel any pressure to move up. And you definitely shouldn’t have to feel inferior.

It’s funny because I think there’s something about moving up another level that makes us think we’ll suddenly be taken more seriously or seen as more competent. It doesn’t. I don’t think I’m any more of a “legit” rider now that I have a few Prelims under my belt than I was when we were first starting out at BN. I’ve learned more yes, and have more experience, but… the level I show at has had no bearing on making me a better or more valid person. And truth be told, all I’ve really learned throughout all of this is that I have so much more respect for the person who can say “I’m comfortable at X level with this horse, I’m happy there, the horse is happy there, I feel safer there, and that’s what I’m going to do, so fuck anyone who doesn’t like it” than I do for the person who says “If I only we can make it to X level, it will mean I’m a good rider or people will think I’m worthy”.

One quote that stuck out to me in particular was “knowing what you and your horse are comfortable with, no matter what level it is, doesn’t make you a terrible rider, it makes you a good horseman”.

That really could not be more true. When I think of the people I admire most, it’s not because they’re successful high level riders, its because they’re great horsemen. They put the horse first, and they know themselves, and they own who they and their horses are. When I think of these people, they range anywhere from low level dressage riders juggling a business and a family to advanced level eventers that do this full time. What level they compete at has absolutely nothing to do with how much I respect them. So why is that “move up” mentality such a deeply embedded part of our culture? How many people ever stop to actually have a hard think about whether they’re doing something because they genuinely want to, rather than because it’s what’s they’ve been made to feel is expected?

The subject gives me a lot to think about anyway. It certainly makes me consider what I say, and how it might be perceived, which in turn has made me reflect on things I know I’ve said in the past. It’s never my place to make someone feel like what they’re currently doing isn’t good enough, and I certainly never want to do that. If I ever have, I apologize sincerely. No one should ever feel like they have to say “Oh I’m just running BN” (um yeah hi, y’all are literally the lifeblood of our sport) nor should they have to explain to anyone why they are or aren’t moving up or when. It’s entirely possible to just… let people be, and support them no matter what, and let them enjoy their horse and do what makes them happy. The pushing and the pressure and the discussions about moving up or not – that’s something that should be between a rider and their trainer, certainly not their peers.

What do you think? Have you witnessed level-shaming, or been on the receiving or (perhaps unintentionally) the giving end?

As of tomorrow I will have officially served owned Henry for 6 years. He is, no contest, the best horse I’ve ever had. Maybe not the fanciest or the easiest or the most athletic, but he’s the one who has taught me more than any other, made all of my dreams come true, showed me some even BIGGER dreams, and made those come true too. My world has gotten so much bigger and brighter since the day he stepped into it. I owe him everything, he owes me nothing, and he will never be for sale. I hope I can give him a life that’s even half as amazing as he’s made mine.

But you guys know all that, because my favorite thing in the world is to talk about how fabulous that horse is. So instead of another post where I wax poetic about the best horse on the planet, instead I’ll just keep it short and simple and post my 6 favorite photos of Henry from the past year.

From our first recognized Prelim. Yes you’re right, he is the most handsome animal in the entire world.

The dressage has been a 6 year ride on the struggle bus, but I think we finally made some big breakthroughs, with 3 of his 4 Prelim tests scoring between 30-33.  (and for the one that didn’t, it was raining and he’s high drama, so…)

Our XC round at Coconino was the best 5 minutes of my entire life, I will remember it forever. My heart absolutely burst with pride and gratitude for this horse on that day. Even if I never have another ride like that, I can die happy.

He puts up with a lot, and does it with mostly good humor. I’m very grateful to have Henry as an equine role model for his “little brother”. He’s seemed to understand his role from the very beginning and has taken on the job with ease.

Everything about this candid shot is perfect. My trainer giving him the last cookie right out of her jar, because he absolutely deserved it. Me smiling at him in the background like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky. 100% accurate depiction of how this unassuming horse manages to worm his way into people’s hearts (and how I’m totally obsessed with him).  

And last but not least, I’m always a sucker for a pic of me patting my pony. I can never thank him enough for the places he’s taken me.

Happy 6 years, buddy, and here’s to many more.

A few weeks ago I did something I’ve never done before: booked a photo shoot for my horses. Aside from show photos I have precisely zero professional photos of my horses. I know that those soft-evening-light, wear-a-nice-outfit-and-pose-with-your-horse type of photos are really popular on Instagram, and they’re pretty, but it’s definitely just… not my bag. I did a very tiny bit of mostly sports modeling years ago to earn extra cash and god I was just so uncomfortable. I learned that I really don’t like being in front of a camera. At all. If you ever see any posed photo shoots from me, I’ve 100% been body snatched, send help immediately. However, I definitely love a good theme photo, and I also love photos of my horses, so when a young local photographer posted about a holiday special, I went for it, opting for black background pics of just the boys.

Fittingly, the shoot was set for the day after Thanksgiving. Perfect time for a Christmas theme. I spent the previous afternoon finalizing what the boys would wear and getting everything cleaned up. I had scoured Amazon earlier in the week to find an antler headband for Presto (because you KNOW he’s a reindeer), which isn’t as simple a task as it seems. His ears are a good 6+ inches long, so I had to find the longest possible antlers to make sure they wouldn’t just get lost behind his ears. Not the weirdest Amazon scour that I’ve ever done, but it might rank top five.

I trimmed up their manes a little bit, and chopped off their grown-out bridlepaths. I don’t take off whiskers or ear hair, so those remained untouched, but I did scrub all the dirt off of Presto’s one sock. And yes, every time I have to clean that little sock I bitch about it endlessly. There’s a lot to be said for Henry’s delightful plain bay. It was a bit too cold for baths (and also I’m not that dedicated) so instead I busted out the vacuum. Turns out the barn owner already had one, so I didn’t have to buy one. Henry thought the vacuum was going to eat him, but dubiously acquiesced after some reassurance. Presto, true to form, thought the vacuum was AWESOME and seemed to enjoy it. Because of course he did.

When I asked you guys for bridle opinions I was already leaning toward the hunt bridle, which got the overwhelming majority of the vote. For Presto I thought his green rope and leather Kincade halter was just a little too busy on his already busy face. I knew if I put him in his bridle he’d just chomp and make faces the whole time, but I didn’t have his plain leather halter with me, and his navy leather halter seemed like it would clash (yes, okay, he has a lot of halters). So I went and dug out the black Kavalkade halter he showed in last year, which is a cob size. I had to drop it to all the loosest possible holes, but it worked.

Look at me, I was prepared. They were going to look great!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. HA.

The next morning was foggy, with that heavy mist in the air that just makes everything feel heavy. I fed around 6 but the photographer wasn’t scheduled to come until 9, so there’s no way I was going to leave everyone inside for 3 hours. I figured I’d turn them out for a bit and go get them around 8:15-8:30. I turned them out, cleaned the stalls, dumped and refilled the water buckets, spread the manure, then went back in the house to eat breakfast and change. About half an hour later I hear something. Is that… is that RAIN? There was NOTHING on the radar when I turned them out. But sure enough, I look out the window and it’s freaking pouring. By the time I put on my shoes it had already tapered off – it was just a small little pop-up shower, intense but very short-lived. The horses thought this was very exciting and were galloping around chasing each other. It was now 8 o’clock and they were SOAKING WET and absolutely riled up beyond belief.

Naturally I panicked. I went out and grabbed them and brought them into the barn, trying to dry them with towels. Presto is really hairy and was absolutely dripping wet. His previously clean sock was also now even filthier than it had been before I cleaned it the night before. I had each of them in a crosstie and went back and forth trying to get them dry while the horses still left in turnout continued to run around, which continued to amp up the two I’d brought in. Finally I remembered that the vacuum also had a blow-dry setting, so I grabbed it and tried that. Henry absolutely would not have it, but Presto didn’t protest. There I was, 8:30am the day after Thanksgiving, blow-drying my 2yo. This is normal right?

The photographer was early and while Henry was at least mostly dry, Presto certainly was not. I’d been pretty successful with his front half, but his back and butt were still soaked. I apologized to the photographer (I literally had ONE JOB) but she didn’t seem phased and said we could work around it.

We started with Henry, and left Presto in the crossties while we took him out into the courtyard. That pissed Presto off. He thought we were abandoning him all alone, so he proceeded to paw and tapdance the entire time we were working on Henry.

Then we switched horses. After Presto’s shenanigans I figured I’d tie Henry out near where we were shooting to try to help make things easier… which it did. Until Henry untied himself and took off. OMG welcome to the circus. I went and retrieved Henry, and tied him over in the barn instead. He promptly untied himself AGAIN and was off AGAIN. This time I retrieved him and hooked him up to a crosstie (good luck getting out of that without thumbs!), and he proceeded to flail around like a fish on a hook, pooping all over the aisle and churning up a cloud of dust. It was embarrassing. He was terrible.

By the time we finished the photo shoot I kind of hated both of them. They acted like a couple of feral hooligans, which is pretty out of character but still really annoying. I’m glad the pictures turned out great, though. Henry looks absolutely stunning (maybe I’m biased but also I’m right) and the hunt bridle was definitely the right choice. And Presto is ridiculously cute as a reindeer. Very apropos.

The pictures are almost enough to make me forget how bad they (ok mostly Henry) were. Almost. I think it’ll be a while before I ever try to wrangle those morons for a photo shoot again. That is WORK. Props to you people who do this regularly. Many thanks to Rowan Ahearn Photography for her infinite patience and somehow still managing to get great shots despite all the mayhem.