Equestrianism Contended

With a turn down centerline to a perfect halt and salute, I am inflated to the highest of clouds. The dressage test could not have gone better, and our scores will show it. I’m almost positive we will score well with this test. Everything I have worked for over the years has been bundled up into an eight-minute ride. A test of precision and stamina. Perfection and harmony. That is the world of Dressage, and I love every second of it. I have loved the work it takes to get here. The sport for perfectionists, I have nicknamed it. Since the rider is trying to achieve a perfect score, a perfect ten on each completed movement.

This is our biggest competition to date. Aphrodite, my gorgeous bay horse, and I have made our way to Pennsylvania for Dressage at Devon, our first international dressage competition. It feels good to know we made it here. Ten years together as a pair, and we have finally made it to the international level. It has taken a lot of time on my part to learn the discipline well enough, but in that short time, we have accomplished a great deal.

Qualifying for Dressage at Devon is a challenging endeavor. With each ride, you must get a high enough score to be able to qualify for the next round. All with the hopes of ending the day competing in the freestyle event.

The test itself went well. Aphrodite wasn’t as attentive as I would have liked, but we got through it fine. It was a new environment for him and easily doubled the number of horses we’re used to. We managed a score of 66.895%, ranking us first, for now. I’m trying not to get too excited. It’s easy for the rankings to switch around while the rides continue on. Although I find with each moment I am by myself, I allow for a moment of disclosure.

For now, we wait until all of the rides are finished. In the meantime, I take care of Aphrodite by walking him around to cool him off, followed by a hose-down. Coating his legs and back in liniment to soothe his muscles. His care is everything to me. If Aphrodite is not at his best, then everything goes down the drain. Horseback riding is a two-man sport. If one of the team members is not working at one hundred percent, then there is no competition. It’s not as simple as just swapping out for another horse either. I have put everything I have into this one horse. Money does not grow on trees for me. Something that is not mentioned when it comes to competing is the amount of money it takes to be at this level. The main reason I’m happy to be competing internationally is that the opportunity for sponsorships is greater.

When it comes to horses, I did pick a good one. Aphrodite came to me on a whim. He was originally going to be my trainer's next grand prix dressage horse, but for reasons I still can’t quite understand, they didn’t click. Before my trainer let me buy him, she told me I was making a mistake because he’s just a big sack of potatoes that doesn’t realize he grew legs. I’ve never known that horse. With me, Aphrodite is incredibly willing and is super athletic. He is a gorgeous mover. Big-boned and has such a comfortable stride. Despite not even liking him, my trainer did not give him up easily. It still cost me a good chunk of change to buy him from her.

The last rider in my class is finishing up now. I go to stand near the scoreboard that updates the scores in real time. With each step, my heart quickens a beat. On the inside, my body is going into overdrive. Mind and heart sharing a synced, rapid beat. Yet on the outside, I keep a cool demeanor. As if this is just like any other horse show I’ve been to. At Dressage at Devon, I am competing against some people I have looked up to since I started riding. Truly, some of the best riders from around the world are at this competition. After so long, the dream of making your idols your rivals has arrived. That is a thought I’ve been pushing to the back of my mind, because I know it would have gone straight to my head, and I would not have been able to concentrate. Simply seeing them around the grounds would have put me off my game too much.

By now, we are all gathered at the end of the arena, watching the last rider go down the centerline. Once they halt and salute, the look of relief floods their face. They probably just finished one of the most difficult tests of their career, and it was a good test too. On beat with their music the whole time. The pair really had the crowd going. Everyone was clapping and whistling to the soundtrack they selected.

They’re walking towards us now, but none of us are paying attention; our eyes are glued to the jumbotron. Within a few seconds, their score and ranking are up. A score of 66.773%, putting them in second place.

I’ve won.

I’m bursting with pride, elated to another degree. I want to run around and kiss everyone on the cheek. Somehow, I refrain from jumping up and down like a schoolgirl. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my peers. That’s not a problem, though. Because once the last rider’s score came up, followed by the leaderboard, everyone dispersed. Now I was standing alone, surrounded by a ghost town of people packing up now that the show was over. People walking by gave a quick thumbs up or a clap of acknowledgment, but other than that, I was alone.

A familiar feeling is starting to arise. One I try to ignore daily. The nagging voice in my head brings it on, and I fear it may be right this time.

I have done everything right, yet the outcome is mediocre. Now that I’ve won, I was expecting a flash and a new filter over my life, changing it for the better. Confetti cannons would sound off once I went down the centerline and saluted. People would be standing and applauding me for a flawless ride and winning one of the hardest classes here. There would be a huge ceremony at the end with champagne and roses, followed by somebody handing me a huge blue ribbon and ten thousand dollars. Sponsors would be lining up for me to be an ambassador. But I move throughout life as I did before. No one notices me. I hold my shoulders high and stick my chin out, but it makes no difference. They look down on me as the same belittled person who tries too hard.

The highs and lows of the past few years have muddled together into something unrecognizable. It has created an empty and confused feeling. My horse has been at the top of his game with the best care and training. I’ve dropped thousands of dollars on saddle fittings, chiropractors, and lessons with the top trainers around. Regardless of what I do and which way I go, I’m not sure if it is the right answer or not. Nothing makes sense anymore.

I have no clue where to go from here. We’re all on a hamster wheel. It is the same routine with the same outcome every time, no matter which angle I approach things. Maybe this is the end for me?

I turn and walk away to the same life I know so well. Fearful of what will come next, if anything does at all.