When I was nine I won a local competition on my pony and two days later he dropped dead in the paddock. Mum said that this was horses. If I wanted to ride I had to be prepared for this and just move on. She was right of course, but it’s easier said than done. One of my first articles was called “The Art of Letting Go” which discussed the release one needs to provide the horse after any aid, but as many readers have stated the art of letting go applies to so many aspects of this sport.
It takes a lot to be a top rider and much of what it takes doesn’t relate to the time actually in the saddle. I see post after post about people getting upset and offended by harsh comments, but the very nature of our sport is to be judged, subjectively.
In a recent article there was a comment that said “Well, this horse is only slightly in front of the vertical,” and I thought to myself, "ah yep, exactly how it should be, am I being criticised or congratulated?" This is just one of the many aspects you have to learn to deal with if you want to be a dressage rider, particularly a competitive dressage rider: the highs and the lows, the judgement, the realities of horse health, and of course injury, either to you or your horse.
Having started off the year 2015 with my debut to international competition, I felt like I was finally getting somewhere. It isn’t easy. In fact it was an eye-opening experience and gave me far more respect for any rider that is actually out there doing it. It’s easy to criticise if you have never ridden a horse into a packed stadium, or 20x 40 warm up arena with 20 horses in it. The thing I took away form each competition was that you would not do it unless you loved it, and unless you had a rather determined character and a pretty thick skin.
Unfortunately six months in this fabulous year of learning, it was me who sustained an injury. I broke both hips when I was 22 and they are always my weak point. I used to ride with a gel pad on top of the saddle, but suddenly I found myself with so much confidence that I took it off, and began competing just on the saddle. That was a mistake. The impact simply was too much and over three months the wear and tear finally caught up with me and the tendons in the front of my hip had become inflamed.
First I thought I could ride through it, but every rider knows that if you are in pain, your horse knows. Batialo began to spook and spin, which he hadn’t done in months and I knew that it was entirely my fault. I was holding and tensing up to protect the area and as much as my mind said, “let him have room”, my body said, “oh god hold on, if he spins you are in trouble”.
So I finally had to make the decision to take time off; something that for me is like failure, like admitting that I can’t do it. When I made the decision my mother asked me if I wanted to give up, if I wanted to try on a different horse, one that didn’t spin. I did think about it. I think that perhaps every rider at some point wonders if their life would be easier, or their bank account fuller, if they didn’t ride. But even the thought of it made me feel empty. My sister used to always tell me that I went overseas to ride because mum loves riding, and I wanted to give her something to follow, something to be inspired by.
I realised during the last three months, as I work everyday to get back on that horse -- yes the same horse -- that I don’t ride for anyone else but me. Batialo too of course, is a once in a lifetime horse, and it was interesting to watch him with a stronger male rider. The rider helping me is a very capable one, and yet Batialo never really listens to him. I watched the lessons grabbing onto the sides of the chair, realising that Batialo is actually very well behaved for me, because what he can do and did with that rider, he would never do with me on him. He is quite simply the happiest horse I know and sometimes that spills out into energy that he needs to let out.
I was thinking recently that whenever you see interviewed a top business person, or a top athlete, or anyone who is really successful, they very often say three words: "never give up." You quite often think they are just saying that to sound inspiring. I no longer think that. I know for sure that nothing good comes easily. In dressage the best horses are the ones with personality. It takes tact, sensibility, and determination to keep on going.
Never give up!
by Sarah Warne