Win, Lose, or Draw Part II

I had a whole, detailed post almost finished when the battery on my iPad died and I lost it all. I don't have much time to retype the whole thing, so here's a list of key points of the show, which is probably a lot less boring anyway. You're welcome.

SATURDAY

Braided Buster, which he thought was a really stupid idea.

Saddled Buster.

Went to grab something out of my truck and locked the keys in, along with my white breeches. 

Cussed. A lot.

Tried not to have a panic attack while one of JL's owners and a couple of people got the door unlocked.

The courtyard of the barn that we were in.

Thanked them about a million times and went to get dressed.

Cussed Ariat for making a shirt that is damn near impossible to button and then proceeded to cuss the dry cleaners for making it even more impossible to button with excessive amounts of starch.

Tried not to get too giddy when I put my new show coat on (yes, I'm a nerd).

To show how big he is, I'm 5'11". And my new coat. It needs taken in a bit in the waist.

Got on and went for a quick warm-up, which went pretty well.

Went into the arena feeling fairly confident.

Judge rang the bell, I went down centerline, saluted, and then everything went to shit.

Okay, I'll stop with the list there. This needs a little more detailed explanation. Basically, Buster started pulling, I pulled back, and everything just kept getting uglier. My right hand was so cramped up by the middle of the test that I had to find a way to pry my fingers open and then push them back shut to shorten my reins (yes, that was very awkward). He pulled so hard that I almost took a cross and stood up out of pure instinct from galloping the horses at the track. I had never been so happy to be finished with a test in my entire life!

The salute of shame

I was so mad at myself after the test. I did everything that I was taught not to do. It wasn't Buster's fault. Yes, he tested me a little, but I responded in all of the wrong ways. If I had made one good correction he would have quit. I didn't.

Carrying a bad pilot

I rode Buster back to the barn, got off, and cried. I don't cry after bad tests and usually just laugh it off. It wasn't that I knew the score would be low or that a I was embarrassed, just completely disappointed in myself. Knowing that I could do better and that I might not get that opportunity was very frustrating. When I lost Beefheart, I lost my ride times in the show. The show manager was kind enough to take my late entry on Buster, but he could only get me in for one ride on Saturday. The only hope I had for getting to ride in another class was if someone scratched. I REALLY wanted another opportunity.

Because leaning back and pulling is always a good idea.

We scored a 59.4, which I thought was generous, and finished second to last. That part wasn't a big deal, it happens. If I had thought that was our best, then I would have been okay with not getting another ride.

SUNDAY

I got lucky and someone scratched on Sunday.

Our warm up was going okay, but not great. MB gave me a couple of tips on transitions and that helped. Then JL walked in, told me one thing, and everything came together pretty well. The ring steward and TD even asked JL what he said to me because my riding did a complete one-eighty. He replied that he just walked in and waved his magic wand. Yeah, pretty much.

Whoever came up with the idea for white breeches is a jack ass! My thighs look huge!

This test went a lot better. I rode the test sitting, which helped quite a bit. Our transitions were better, everything was more consistent, and the whole test was a lot more fluid. Sitting back and (trying) to ride Buster through was almost as exhausting as him pulling on me the whole time, but it was a fulfilling and satisfifying exhaustion.

Such a good boy!

We ended up scoring a 67.9 and were first. Of course, I was the only one in the class so it probably doesn't really count. It was still a win to me though.

So, what were the magic words that JL said to me? All he said was to bump Buster when he started pulling down on me. It wasn't so much what he said, but that it reminded me not to just be passive. I remembered to sit back and ride, to expect more. That one little tip changed my whole mentality. I guess that's what good trainers do.

*I have to mention that Buster is fantastic! He moves nice and doesn't ride like a big horse at all (except for when I ride like an idiot). He is a complete gentleman and totally safe, no spooking at all and that arena is pretty scary for horses. I learned a lot from the big guy this weekend! Being able to show him was a wonderful privilege!