Show Time

I competed in my first horse show this weekend--a practice show hosted by my riding school. My goal was simple: anything but last place. I'm pleased to report that I exceeded my goal. Out of the five riders who competed at the Beginner level, I placed third in the flat class (where judges look at the horse's movement) and fourth in the flat equitation class (where judges look at the rider's position). Not too bad for someone who just started lessons a few months ago, right? Well, my honor demands that I tell you the entire story. A seven-year old and her pony took first place. You can see why I'm concurrently proud and pathetic.

The day of the show, I entered the arena atop the magnificent Miki Moto, a beautiful warmblood gelding who stands 18 hands high. As I trotted past little girls on their spunky ponies (under 14.2 hands), I felt mildly like someone in a scene in a Will Ferrell movie or SNL sketch in which a hulking adult mows down tiny tots to win a 50-yard dash, does an overly exuberant victory dance, and makes an "L" with his thumb and forefinger as he brushes past the kids who lost. Luckily for me, I was never in any danger of soundly defeating all the aspiring National Velvets and thus looking like a Will Farrell character. My young competitors, although still Beginners, have been riding for a year or more. They looked awesome--it certainly wasn't a case of the judges just letting the kids win.

I was fairly nervous before the show. I knew that I'd be the only adult, which is kind of humiliating. Why are there no other adult beginners? And why did I wait until now to start lessons? Even though I wasn't aiming to win and knew that I wouldn't win, I didn't want to--as the Wrangler says--"stall out." (The Wrangler came to one of my lessons and asked why I sometimes "stall out" or, in other words, just stop my horse and sit there for a minute. I'm sure my instructor would like to know the same thing. The answer is simple: sometimes there is too much to think about at once. I'm like a PC that freezes up when it has too many apps running.)

All in all, my first show was a great experience. First, I didn't stall out. Second, I loved shopping at the tack store for my show outfit. Third, there's a cross-stitch sampler-worthy moral lesson in here (maybe something like, "it's never too late," "you have to start somewhere," or "you're not all that"). Fourth, it's good to get my hotshot lawyer ego taken down a notch or 10 (losing to a seven-year old will do that nicely). But most of all, it was just plain fun to spend the morning with horses and people who love them.