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Katie Lindsay: Fun and Games at an Event

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As promised, here is the third of my Fantasy Equestrian Discipline Interview Trilogy (FEDIT) for Eventing Nation. It's been a struggle in which I've used "delete" more often than "enter" and even had my hand slapped (rightfully) by John for being too realistic to the point of being grim and sad. After sulking for three or four minutes, I discovered that I totally agreed with him and in fact hated the first draft I'd sent him. In my hunter and dressage interviews, it seems I was able to step back and produce a Carl Hiaasenesque bit of ironic fluff. With our own discipline, I know all sides of it too well and therefore ended up inadvertently taking some swipes at the underbelly of the sport. Let's see if the following works any better! Here goes ......... 

FUN AND GAMES AT AN EVENT 
 

Rounding out the trilogy, I zeroed in on my own sport. eventing. Actually, dressage riders believe that we eventers are flat out nut cases who have innate death wishes while hunter riders (when they bother to think) think we are people who are too dim to count strides, and who can only afford to buy their rejects who are too hot to be hunters and too untalented to do the jumpers. Eventers and/or eventer wanna be's on the other hand tend to enthusiastically espouse whatever the eventing guru du jour opines about most any and everything. Our conversation (when we actually take the time to sit down and carry on some form of cogent dialogue) is laced with first name references - "Jimmy said ..." "Boyd thinks ..." "Bruce told me ..." - secretly hoping that we will be regarded as part of the hallowed inner circle of uber-coolness. 

I sought out my "typical" eventer at a small, local one day held at a venue aptly named Missed by the Tornado Park located in one of the Great Plains States where the buffalo used to roam, but which the deer and the antelope long ago abandoned in pursuit of fresher playing fields. It was early in the morning of a hot, humid and very buggy summer day, and the competition was getting off to a somewhat rocky start. I amused myself for a few minutes watching the two organizers shrieking abuse at each other over the radio as they ran around trying to get the sound to work and scrounging about for a volunteer scribe because the ubiquitous "someone" had forgotten to fill that job! So much for the seldomly heard discouraging word of fable. Great stuff though that would have made both Dr. Phil and Jerry Springer proud. These two must be a ton o' fun at a party! 

Going forward ..... The journalistic "prey" I had selected was easy to spot. She had finished her dressage test an hour previously and was struggling through the weeds juggling two saddles, assorted saddle pads, two bridles, a breast collar, and two Cosequin buckets, one filled with sweat scraper, sponge,  poultice, fly spray, grease, wraps, cotton, and galloping boots, and the other with pinney, stick, spurs, safety vest, Point Two vest, helmet and boots. She was also dragging a totally uncooperative sunburned-sort-of-bay horse of indeterminate heritage who was much more interested in snacking his way across the field than in anything his rider had planned for the rest of his day. She was slight, blonde, and probably in her early to mid 20's, and at that moment, she looked sweaty, disheveled and grubby and also appeared a lot pissed off, but still game. She was wearing a ragged Rolex baseball cap, faded blue running shorts over once white breeches, the trademark towel hanging from her belt, mismatched knee socks, lime green Wellie type boots, and a vintage, ill fitting greyish tee shirt whose color in a former life could only be guessed at. This is not really an ideal ambience in which to conduct an interview, but seeking to establish my journalistic creds, I soldiered on. 

Prior to actually speaking with my quarry, I had been able to discover some baseline facts about her from the gaggle of younger girls who were doggedly following her, and who, I was told, made up her "Facebook Friends' Forever Fanclub." Her given name, I was informed, was Heliotrope Louise Matthews, but she is known to her friends as "Lance" because her chosen mode of transportation is a bicycle. Her horse's show name is Hayley's Firecracker with a stable moniker of Pudding, the etiology of which I don't care to go into. Thus armed, I moved in after assuring myself that Pudding had been securely anchored to one of the FFFF bevy, and Lance appeared in better humor. 

Me : "Hi. I'm from Eventing Nation and would love to have a few words with you if you have time. I'm especially interested in what sacrifices you have made along the way in order to participate in this sport." 

HM : "Oh cool. I love EN. My computer is broken, but when I get it fixed, I'll read it every day. Do you know John? Could you introduce me to him? I hear he's really cute! What did you say your name is? Damn it Pudding, get off my foot. I just got that cast off."  

Me : (carefully sidestepping Pudding who was staring malevolently at the Lance clone who was holding him while having fly spray applied to his rather generous ears) "For starters, tell me how you became interested in eventing." 

HM : "I was working for lessons at a small barn near my Mom and Dad's house, and my instructor took me along with him to an event he was riding in. I was hooked. I fell in love with Pudding who was at that same barn. He is the horse of my dreams! He is part Mustang and part Thoroughbred, and his great great grand uncle ran in the Kentucky Derby, but didn't win. He has really good feet. I read an article by Dr. Richardson at New Bolton, and he said good feet are really important for an event horse. Do you know Dr. Richardson? He's really smart. I read everything he writes. If anything ever happens to Pudding, I'll take him to Dr. Richardson. " 

Me : (anxious to refocus the direction of the interview, but fearing for the worst) "What is a typical day like for you?" 

HM : "I feed and muck stalls every morning at the barn to help with board, and in the afternoon, I sometimes pick up some shifts at Denny's. Eventing can be really expensive. You need so much equipment! I ride Pudding twice a day because as Phillip says, fitness is essential no matter what level you are competing. I watched Phillip teach last year and learned so much. Have you ever interviewed Phillip? What is he like?" 

Me : (starting to feel weary) "Do you live with your parents?" 

HM : "No. When I told my father I was giving up school to follow my dream of riding for the U.S.A. in the Olympics, he told me I was on my own. He hates horses. I had to make other arrangements, but everything is cool with them now." 

Me : (quickly moving on) "The Olympics? That's great. What level do you ride?" 

HM : "We did pretty well at the local events last year, but Pudding doesn't like ditches. I read an article by Buck. and he said the best way to get over a fear of ditches is ..." (at that point, Pudding took violent exception to having his forearms and stifles greased for his upcoming cross country test, pulled back from his holder and fled for freedom with stirrups flapping in the breeze followed in hot pursuit by Lance and the whole FFFF troop.) 

All's well that ends well.... 

This abrupt, unplanned ending to a pretty unproductive conversation was in retrospect pure serendipity. Lance's chatter had given me a headache, and her manic energy made me long for a nap. Striving to banish all these feelings, I decided the Hell with the interview, and instead I settled down to observe the progress of the actual event which amazingly enough, had found its equilibrium and was chugging along in fine form. I was happy to note that Lance and Pudding got reunited and eventually finished their cross country, also in fine form, even negotiating the Dread Ditch with great élan to the noisy approval of the FFFF. You never know. Maybe I had witnessed the first steps taken by tomorrow's super star. I hope so! I liked her, and I especially liked her recalcitrant friend Pudding. A morning that had started out weirdly evolved into a really pleasant day. This sport is amazing! Go eventing!! 

Katie Lindsay: Fun and Games at the Dressage Show

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OK, as promised - "Fun and Games at the Dressage Show," the second in my interdisciplinary fantasy interview series. (No, I will not whine any more about John's writing skills versus mine - not too much anyway - and I will try to stay out of the saloon into which I was driven by my exchange with Britiffuffy last week. The ensuing hangover was almost as devastating as the pain of the interview itself. Note to self - pack alternate analgesic substances - of the legal variety of course.) 

Now that I have apparently thoroughly pissed off the hunter/jumper world, (at least those who can read), and in an effort to be known as an equal opportunity Pain In The Ass, I've decided that this week's fantasy interview will be with dressage devotee and owner/rider, Gretel Schimmelfrog. She recently imported an 18 hand 1 inch approved Lichtensteiner Warmblood stallion, Wanton XIII, on the advice of her trainer Otto Gregor "Schmutzi" von Santenhopfbrauhaus who is also riding the horse at the show I attended.  

(Ah how sweet it is to be the snarky Dominick Dunne of equestrian sport!) 

Dressage shows amuse me - for about 20 minutes anyway. Before the Eventing and Dressage TD licenses were split up, I officiated at a bunch of dressage shows. One day, I came to a pathetic bit of self awareness - the only thing I enjoyed about the job was making DQ's cry so I quit to pursue other sadistic pleasures. (Ask me about my personal best dressage TD day sometime. Brutal!) Dressage people are verrrrry intense and tend to be quieter than their hunter/jumper or eventing counterparts. So quiet in fact that someone with a loud guffaw of a laugh when amused (like me for example) tends to draw the most thunderous scowls. My late father used to call such expressions "Gorgonzola sneers," so named because the sneerer looks like he/she has a piece of very ripe Gorgonzola under his/her nose. My father was a very funny man - but as usual, I digress! 

I set out to interview Ms. Schimmelfrog at the Divine Dressage Extravaganza on the Plains (that's the real name - honest!) after doing some preliminary research on her background. She was born one of 12 children in the tiny town of Lost Virginity, Oklahoma and began her riding career barrel racing on the southwestern circuit. The highpoint came when she was crowned "Miss Teenage Oklahoma Swine Breeders' Queen" at the Tulsa rodeo. By chance, that same rodeo featured a circus dressage performance put on by Dusty Duvall and her aging Arabian stallion Sparkle Boy, and then and there, she knew that she had found her calling. 

The first thing she changed was her name. Realizing that her birthname Gertrude Mabel Ganz lacked the necessary panache for her new lifestyle, she redubbed herself Gretel Inga Schimmelfrog after the heroine in a very short lived children's comic strip. Never one to do anything half way, and hearing that the very best dressage is to be found in Europe, she next took her rodeo winnings and traveled abroad where she acquired  (in chronological order) a sort of German accent, the wealthy scion of a Lichtensteinian dynasty who happened to be in extremely poor health, and a trainer, the portly Herr Gregor Otto "Schmutzi" von Santenhopfbrauhaus whose claim to fame was a short period spent on the Lichtenstein Olympic Dressage team. (I'd never heard that Lichtenstein had an Olympic Dressage team, but what do I know. They ski awfully well so why not dressage?) Following the not entirely unexpected death of Herr Schimmelfrog and the subsequent settling of his estate, Greta cashed out her holdings, packed up Schmutzi and the seven warmblood horses of varying skills that she had acquired, and returned to her native country to spread the mantra of pure, classical Lichtensteiner dressage which is what they were doing when I tracked them down at the DDE on the P Show. 

I caught up with my quarry at the warm up ring where she was watching a puffing, panting and red faced Schmutzi thundering around in ever decreasing circles on a sweat drenched and thoroughly annoyed Wanton in preparation for a series of Rollkur stretching exercises destined to scatter the more conservative riders in the area. She was dressed in the prerequisite "I am a serious dressage groupie, but I'm not competing" attire - black full leather seat breeches, white nylon knee socks, black Dansko clogs, a pale lavender stretchy tee shirt, a small fanny pack, (lavender of course), and a matching pale lavender visor with her farm logo, a golden tiara, embossed on it. (Amazingly enough, she also sported perfectly matching lavender eye shadow!) 

Me - (handing her my card to establish myself as a REAL PROFESSIONAL) "Hi Ms. Schimmelfrog. I am doing a series of articles following the careers of selected imported horses in America, and I'm especially interested in learning about the progress Wanton has made since he arrived. Is this a good time to talk?" 

GS - (never taking her overly made up eyes off her horse) "Ja, ja, fine. I luff to talk about my darling horse and my passion for pure dressage." 

Me - (taking a deep breath and fearing that this is going to be a very long day) "How long has Wanton been in the United States, and has he adjusted well?" 

GS - "He is here only six veeks. His transport vas delayed because he is too big for the standard shipping pallet. Ve vanted him to haf plenty of room on the flight. He told his communicator that he fears closed spaces." 

Me - (weakly) "His communicator?" 

GS - "Ja, communicator. You don't hear vell? Ve employed the best one to help Vanton over the trauma of adjusting to a new country. He is very sensitive horse. He vas restless in his stall ven he finally got to the farm, and the communicator referred me to a Feng Shui Master. He did the entire barn over using tones of lavender as the primary Feng Shui color palette. The effect has been miraculous!"  

(concurrently, the "very sensitive horse" has lowered his head and is charging bull-like  across the arena oblivious to his rider's considerable weight hauling on his double bits) 

Me - (long day confirmed) "Do you ride Van - er - Wanton Ms. Schimmelfrog?" 

GS - "Not yet. Schmutzi doesn't vant to break the delicate rapport betveen the two of them until he is confirmed in all three gaits. Schmutzi has an uncanny ability to anticipate Vanton's needs." 

(the rider for all of his uncanny ability, however, is evidently oblivious to Wanton's well expressed need to rid himself of the abusive tub of Lichtenstein lard grinding away on his back) 

Me - (suppressing the need to simultaneously giggle and throw up) "Are you riding any other horses?" 

GS - "Oh ja, Schmutzi gives me daily lungeline lessons on a perfectly vonderful schoolmaster ve brought from Lichtenstein. He says he vill continue this until my seat is strong enough that my hands vill function independently and effectively. Maybe next month I vill canter. I learn so much just watching Schmutzi and Vanton together."  

Me - "Is there anything in particular you'd like me to stress in my article?" 

GS - "Ja. I vould vant you to talk about the purity of Vanton's gaits as you can see in front of you, and the elegance of both horse and rider as they strive to achieve the ultimate goal of HARMONY. To me they now look like a classical painting, and they vill only get better. Ven vill your article be out?" 

Me - (stalling for time and suddenly feeling the need to get away before I lose all semblance of self control and yank Schmutzi off the poor horse's back and beat him to death with the two long whips he is carrying) "I'm not sure. All submitted articles are subject to editing based on available space. Thank you so much for your time." 

GS - "Ja. You vill come to the farm soon and continue the interview?" 

Me - (mumbling something incoherent as I beat a retreat to the safety of my car.)  

Sadly, I realize that I'm not that much of a REAL PROFESSIONAL after all!

WWJHD - What Would John Have Done? 

Sigh. Depressed!  

Katie Lindsay: Fun and Games at the Hunter Show

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From Katie Lindsay: 

What pisses me off worse than anything in the world is the blinding rage I feel when reading something really good that was written by someone who is a better writer than I am. This invariably brings on alternating bouts of uncontrollable temper, insomnia, and abject teeth gnashing depression. Recently, our very own John of Eventing Nation fame and fortune (not) wrote an "interview," Montana FAQ, that had me howling with laughter. After wiping up the coffee I'd sprayed all over my keyboard and thanking God that I do my own laundry, my Scorpion nature kicked in, the gist of which is "I don't want to get ahead. I just want to get even." Today, the opportunity to so so presented itself and went something like this. 

A horse belonging to a good friend of mine was competing in a Hunter Derby at a quadruple (or whatever the Hell) A summer H/J show in the neighborhood. I was told that the class would run "around 11 A.M." Now I was raised doing the hunters - indoors, outdoors , you name it - and to this day, I still love watching a good hunter go, but midway in my competitive career, I crossed over to (cue the Twilight Zone theme music) The Dark Side, eventing, where I have since been in ever evolving capacities. In the time that has elapsed, I'd managed to forget the number one thing that really annoyed me back then - waiting endlessly for Susie Creamcheese to get her ass to the in gate and ride instead of dicking around in the warm up ring waiting for her trainer to appear and earn his or her day fee bellowing inanities at her. I was painfully reminded today! 

Anyway, I digress. 11 AM oozed on glacierlike to 1 PM, and in the meantime, I watched (sort of) a 2 hour, six horse Medal (or Maclay, never could tell the difference) qualifying class. I sat and sucked on a cup of pretty bad coffee and amused myself by covertly studying the father of one of the riders who alternated bellowing into his mobile phone with twitching and groaning while watching his offspring's rivals crawl around the ring. All of a sudden, John's Montana FAQ interview, the object of my rageful envy, popped into my consciousness. Why not a fantasy interview with a teen aged hunter equitation rider, I asked myself. It could be pretty funny - and it would give me something to do besides becoming over caffeinated, studying the backs of my eyelids, and reorganizing my life yet again. The result of this fantasy trip follows - and yes, John, I plagerized the Hell out of your piece. Sue me for all my back pay! 

July 30, 2010 - Equifantasy Horse Show, Somewhere in the hot Middlewestern Boonies. 

I approach teenaged girl who had earlier won a class and is now busy texting. She is dressed in the prerequisite white pattern on pattern shirt, choker, low slung baby barf colored breeches, black boots, helmet, and side buckled, bling encrusted belt. I had done some research from her show number (clever reporter that I am). Her name is Britiffuffy Loganthorne. (Note first name that combines the best of Brittany, Tiffany and Buffy, and the last name which I earlier learned was changed from Madoff four years ago by her hedge fund managing father. You get the drift - the same drift that the SEC evidently missed ....)  

Me (perkily) : "Hi. I'm (mumble name) a free lance writer doing an article for (mumble unintelligible equine magazine name) about your win. May I have a word with you?" 

BL : (never missing a beat of her texting) "Huh?" 

Me : (repeat opening sentence slower) 

BL : "Oh yeah. Like OK." Still texting. 

Me : "You must be quite happy with your blue ribbon today. Any thoughts?" 

BL : "Yeah. It was good, but it's like a crappy ribbon. Hihowzitgone?" (the last to a passing contemporary clone) 

Me :  "Your horse, Out Until Dawn, was brilliant. Does he have a stable name?" 

BL : (looking up from her tiny keyboard) "Name? Oh yeah I guess. Like Hank." 

Me : "I'd like to get some pictures of him relaxing. What stall is he in?" 

BL : "Stall? I dunno. I've never been there. My Own like brings him here to the ring for me." 

Me : "My Own?" 

BL : "Yeah. My Own Groom. Everyone has one." 

Me : "What's his name? Maybe I could get a quote from him." 

BL : "Name? Dunno. We like call them all Juan."  

Me : (rapidly changing the subject) "Was your trainer pleased with your win?" 

BL : "I guess. She told my Dad he had to buy me another practice horse if I'm going to like win at the indoors this fall. He got pretty hacked off. Everyone has at least two practice horses. I don't like see why I can't." (This in an especially unattractive whiney voice). "He'll come around." 

Me : (anxious to get some kind of usable quote out of this brain dead child) "Do you find it difficult to combine school work with your riding career, especially if your goal is doing the Indoors?" 

BL : "Huh? Wadyamean?" 

Me : (suddenly too tired to go on and longing for a gin and tonic to ease the pain) "Forget it. Thanks for your time." 

I exit stage left and find the nearest dark and soothing bar where I still sit depressed because John still writes better than I do and probably always will.  

Maui Jim Eventing Derby Series

For some reason this article that Katie has generously written for us puts a big smile on my face.  Next time you're shopping for sunglasses remember what company fought to support eventing.

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Cathy Jones Forsberg, courtesy of Becky Bowen

From Katie:

When it became evident late last year that the Maui Jim Horse Trials were destined to become a thing of the past, Mike Dalton, the CEO of Maui Jim, Inc., asked what we could do to keep the tradition of the event going given its new legally imposed constraints. He generously agreed to continue his company's support of a competition designed to include both experienced riders and riders new to the sport. Thus the Eventing Derby Series was created that would take place entirely on the extravagantly landscaped grounds of Lamplight Equestrian Center in July and in August. 

Never being one to overtrain for anything, I dove head first into putting the Derbies together even though I had never actually seen one. In late March, a friend in Tucson had invited me out to see the Derby that was scheduled to run at Grass Ridge. I jumped at the chance to escape from the Chicago winter for a weekend never dreaming that it would snow in Tucson and the Derby would be cancelled. Best laid plans and all that. 

My theory of organizing is to hire the very best possible professionals I can afford so I hired Jon Wells to do the courses with some building additions by an up and coming local builder, Joel Nielsen. Having worked with Rick Dunkerton and evententries.com for the past five Maui Jim's and three AEC's. I whined pitifully to him, and he agreed to come and score and work his scheduling and secretarial magic. (I expect he capitulated to shut me up. Wise choice!) Cyndi Kurth from Florida came on board to announce the first one, (giving a whole new meaning to the word FISH), along with Cindy de Porter who is a crackerjack and fun official, and who agreed to be head judge and do a half day's "Ride a Test" prior to the start of the actual competition. This great nucleus was bolstered by the hard working, enthusiastic and experienced core of volunteers who had made Maui and the Illinois AEC's run like clockwork. 

While designing the prize list and schedule, a wonderful new feeling of freedom descended upon me. Mind you, my organizing experience had always been within the confines of USEF and FEI rules as well as USEA "recommendations." All of a sudden, I realized that there were no rules in this venture so consequently, with a ton of consulting with Rick, we made up our own. I felt like a kid who'd been let out of a Catholic boarding school! 

Basically, we ran in three parts over two and a half days - a shortish jumping test, dressage, and a longer jumping test. The courses combined show jumps and some newly built cross country portables. The levels offered were Starter, Beginner Novice, Novice and Training. Preliminary will be offered in August. Horses could enter two consecutive levels, and two riders could compete the same horse. We geared it toward riders who may never otherwise have the chance to compete at a "big time" facility like Lamplight, and we kept the entry fees low. Following the National trend, entries were late coming in which is understandable, albeit a bit hairy in terms of planning. Dress code was minimal -  boots and helmets and proper Dressage tack being required. 

A marvelous collection of over a hundred horses competed. One young lady was riding a paint who started out life as a circus horse. The winner of the Master (40 and over) Amateur on an Off The Track Thoroughbred award (which was donated by Seema Sonnad, a generous supporter of our efforts), was a 23 year old who raced until he was 8 and had carried his former owners through a couple of NAYRC's. There was every breed imaginable - a Fresian cross, some POA's, a Shetland cross, a saddlebred, a few Arabians, a pair of Selle Francais and a few warmbloods in addition to Thoroughbreds, quarter horses and various and sundry color breeds.  We pinned through tenth place and offered a ton of goodies donated by generous vendors and our wonderful sponsor, Maui Jim. 

A couple of days to recover from a blow out dinner a friend gave on Sunday night, (in retrospect, doing Kalashnikov shooters after dinner is not exactly a great idea!), and we'll start gearing up for the August Derby on the 13th, 14th and 15th. We will be tweaking some of the rules, but intend to maintain the same relaxed and low key atmosphere in a big time environment that marked the maiden effort. I'm happy that thanks to Maui Jim, Inc., we were able to put some of the fun back in eventing! (I just got a call from Mike Dalton who was in Sardinia at the time (!). I had sent him a quick report/thank you e mail about the weekend, and he was very excited about its success. What a class act!) 

Katie Lindsay: Chasing the Elusive "AHA" Moment

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From Katie:

Into each life, hopefully, some AHA moments shall fall. "So Katie, now WTF are you babbling about?" you may ask! This topic came about following a somewhat well lubricated dinner conversation I was having with a local trainer during which we touched upon, (among a zillion other things), the science/art whatever of teaching people how to ride a horse and guiding them toward a goal of improving their craft. We also spent some time analyzing instant gratification and fulfilling of ambition vis a vis achieving long term and genuine learning. Deep, eh? The next day, I started thinking about all the stuff we had discussed and subsequently made several mental U'ies to apply it to other aspects of equestrian sport, somewhat related to, but not the exclusive domain of actually riding a horse. 

A teacher/trainer/coach can only do so much. He can impart his knowledge 24/7 until he is blue in the face, but until the student successfully ingests this knowledge, struggles to assimilate it and make it his own, understands it, and transforms it into action, nothing happens (except in some cases frustration and a rapid depletion of a bank account.) This can be a very personal and sometimes lonely process, but when the desired sequence of events actually occurs, it is by my definition, the ultimate AHA moment. 

AHA moments do not as a rule happen serendipitously. The student must work at it and concentrate on trying to understand what his teacher is trying to impart. Great students spend hours on their own using the tools they have hopefully learned in order to achieve a goal. It is frequently hard, boring and discouraging work, but when the AHA moment occurs, it is a major rush. 
 
I remember "Mongo," an amazingly talented, versatile and thoroughly quirky Thoroughbred I acquired as a two year old and had for many years. We foxhunted and won tons in the hunter ring, but when I decided to start eventing him, we were faced with that dirty D word, Dressage. He hated it. So did I. Sitting his trot was pure agony. The clinicians I rode with and teachers I took lessons from all studied him, shook their heads gravely, and talked about "softening him and having him give me his back." I would nod wisely as if I knew what the hell they were talking about and resume the hour's torture. (In retrospect, I'm sure it was way harder on him than on me, but at the time, I didn't much care. I hurt too much!) One day, I stopped in the middle of a hack and out of the blue decided that by God, THIS-WAS-GOING-TO-BE-THE-DAY that the big breakthrough would occur. Do or die. (As I recall, we were in a lovely quarry which sadly has since turned into a forest of McMansions.) Somehow, "it" happened and lo and behold, I was sitting on a soft, responsive and most of all, comfortable horse. Wow. What a glorious AHA moment that wouldn't have happened had I not forced myself to make the words I'd been hearing my own. Sadly, in our society of instant fixes, fewer and fewer people seem to be willing to take the time and invest the sweat equity to really learn something and instead go after the Holy Grail that just may be found in the next trainer barn down the road. 

I'm sure teachers have AHA moments too, moments when a student who has been a dim 40 watter suddenly sprouts a virtual light bulb over his head and "gets it." I know horses have them, and it's a delight when it happens. 

Turning to my field of expertise - and I use that term very lightly because the more "expert" one becomes, the more one realizes that he doesn't really know jack! I've been an organizer for a couple of decades, but it was really only in the last five years that I had my own personal AHA moment. In 2005, I spent some time in the hospital, and when I came home, I was faced with the challenge of putting on a CIC 1, 2 and 3 Star and a national Advanced through Training competition in several weeks. Ugh. Daunting enough when feeling good! My AHA moment happened when I realized that there were other people who could be trusted to do a job as well as and usually better than I could. For ages, I'd been advised to delegate more, and like with my Dressage lessons, I'd agree solemnly and go right on doing what I'd always done - most everything. I discovered that I really liked delegating, and thanks to a great team, the events since that day have run better and better - and I haven't needed a total tune up and severe R and R when they were over. AHA moment at its very best! 

May your AHA moments be pleasurable and lead to long lasting success! I need a nap. 

     end

Rules' Death Spiral

Event organizer and Eventing Nation guest writer Katie Lindsay was kind enough to send her next article for this Monday morning after Bromont.  I drove the graveyard shift once again on the way back home from Canada so it is great to have a post ready to go this morning.  We will have a lunchtime post and then a final Bromont recap later this evening.  Thanks for writing this Katie and thank you for reading.

If you want to kill a few extra minutes at work, check our Katie's previous articles.

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From Katie:

RULES' DEATH SPIRAL 

I am a devoted fan of figure skating at the "upper levels." Watching a successful quad or an incredible pairs performance is almost as exciting to me as watching WFP romp around the Rolex course. (I do, however, admit to drawing the fan line at Ice Dancing "PT and D"- Post Torvill and Dean!). I have admired clips of the Protopopovs doing their signature "Death Spiral" in their Gold Medal performance in the early 50's and still marvel at it even though the only time I saw them live three decades later, they looked terribly frail. If you've never seen a death spiral, it's very cool. The male skater stands and holds the hand of his female counterpart who spirals in a circle around him sinking lower and lower with each rotation.   

So what exactly is the point of my nattering on about this? Probably not much except that it recently struck me that the rules in our sport today, perhaps reflective of the rules that govern all of our lives, are in a kind of death spiral. Instead of working to make the rules that govern us less complicated and more easily understood, it seems that we are adding more and more in response to specific incidents that arise - and may or may not ever arise again. We have in effect become incident-specific "reactive" rather than globally "proactive." 

All this pondering was actually prompted by a conference call I took part in several weeks ago. One of the participants, a well respected official, was relating an incident that had occurred at an event the weekend before. The parent of a child was claiming that the dimensions of a jump on a Beginner Novice course exceeded specifications. In this case, the point in question was the depth of a shallow ditch. The concerned parent apparently became somewhat argumentative.  The official took the time to talk with her at length, and hopefully a positive resolution and some education resulted. Someone on the call then suggested that perhaps we need a specific rule governing the exact depth of  ditches at that level. At that point, I'm ashamed to admit that I lost it and inquired (not at all sweetly) why the Hell we had to make a rule for every (bleep)ing thing in our sport - or something to that effect. Following an embarrassed silence, a quick change of subject ensued.   

Unless one is a total anarchist, rules are necessary evils. If everyone behaved at all times and always did the honorable and right thing, there'd be far fewer - but that's not the way it is. Looking at our own eventing rules, something that I have done for many years, I think they break down into two categories - Necessary and P.I.T.A. Necessary rules are those that strive to ensure safety for horse and rider and maintain the same conditions as much as possible for everyone across the board. Emergency requirements and fence types and dimensions for each level of expertise fall into this category (although the latter seem to be creeping into the "guidelines" category which in my opinion is not necessarily an entirely good thing). P.I.T.A. rules are those that have absolutely no bearing on safety or performance. Why in God's name should the absence of gloves in dressage at the FEI level be punishable by elimination? Does a tail bandage or length of sleeves or wearing a stock when going without coats really make a difference in how a horse performs or in rider safety? 

I also am fighting the nagging and rather nasty thought that keeps skittering across my brain that these "added on" new rules are coming into being partly because the officials who are responsible for enforcing the rules lack the experience - or skill - or balls - or whatever to make any call without a specific published rule to back it up.  Instead of making calls that speak to thespirit and intent of a rule, they cry out for something in print that will precisely justify their ruling. Granted, it's a helluva lot safer and easier to point to a sentence in the rule book than to actually take the time to educate the person inquiring about the situation. This is lame. A large and particularly unpleasant reason for this tendency is that many officials have expressed a fear of being sued. How sad is that? And how sad is it that a beginner novice rider would even contemplate calling a lawyer over disputed time faults? But it's happened. I occasionally find myself asking if I really want to be associated with this sport any more! 

Upon rereading all this, I admit to sounding pretty negative about the current state of the sport of eventing. Possibly this is a result of having experienced a particularly crappy week - but that is no excuse. I love this sport, but I do also span a generation gap that had it's start in a kinder, gentler and less intense time. I think we do tend to take ourselves a little too seriously and forget the reason why most of us choose to stay involved. Eventing provides an environment that promotes a wonderful rapport between man and horse, and if I choose to carp about what I see are some flaws, it is only in hopes of giving a needed half halt - a jolt that will force us to step back a pace and examine where we are going and why. 

Back to my bat cave! 

Katie Lindsay: JUST DO IT

Eventing Nation guest writer, event organizer, and officiating extraordinaire Katie Lindsay has sent us her next post.  Thanks for writing this Katie, and thank you for reading.

----


From Katie:

(No, this is not a Nike commercial!) 

I've finally emerged from my spring officiating back to back, (Twin Rivers, Rolex Kentucky and Jersey Fresh), and I'm glad to have a reprieve from flailing my way through O'Hare Airport at all hours of the day and night. (Believe me, that's a creepy damn place at 5 AM after a red eye!) It's good to be home, too many loads of laundry notwithstanding, and also good to have a little distance in order to evaluate everything I've seen in the past month. 

First of all, a big shout out to Mike E-S, Derek DiGrazia and John Williams for their courses at these events. I was happy to see that the tracks at both Rolex and Jersey were more open, "gallopy" and straightforward than they were last year. Horses actually had the time to look at and understand a problem before tackling it - and I think the good results reflected this trend. Kudos! Hopefully the popularity of the "show jumping without walls" kinds of courses that seemed to have been the trend in the last decade has waned?  

Horses can't run any faster, jump any higher, or think any faster than they did at the turn of the century. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think Greyhound still holds the world's trotting record for a mile and a half that he set in the 30's? And how many Triple Crown winners have we seen in the past 25 years? Yet we have asked these wonderful animals to jump higher, run faster, and react quicker than they are capable of by endorsing a course design philosophy featuring one cluster of very technical problems after another separated by straight galloping stretches Start, stop, start, stop ... Safety wise, this hasn't turned out very well at all. (One reason given for this kind of design is to create prime cross country viewing areas for potential sponsors. Yikes. Can you spell tail wagging the dog?) 

I had an interesting chat at Jersey with Eric Smiley, the President of the Ground Jury. My mother always used to say that everyone needs a little bit of Irish to survive in this world. Being a typical daughter, I ignored her. Silly old woman. However, while listening to Eric, I had a huge head slapping, "aha" moment. It seemed that many years after the fact, I finally got what Mom was talking about. Eric couldn't be more Irish if he were wearing a green top hat and weird pointy shoes, and in the course of one of our conversations in which I was ranting in a somewhat agitated and pissed off manner, he said something that stopped me cold and essentially summed up the feelings I've been struggling with about the current state of this sport we all love. Let me elaborate and expand.   

I was whining about something or other that had happened during the day, and he looked at me and said calmly "It would appear that we have lost the ability to get out there and just do it." This simple comment shone a spotlight for me on why we all seem to be having so many problems getting along and communicating with each other. He was speaking at that moment from a rider's perspective, using as an example the time he had entered Badminton during a rainy spring season. (Is there any other kind in Ireland?). He had only done one hunter trial as a warm up. "I didn't ask Hugh Thomas to change the course for me. I just kicked harder and would have pulled up if I'd had to." Bingo.  

I think the advice to just soldier on and do it is applicable to everyone involved in our sport, not just riders. We organizers tend to overthink and obsess about things. It's in our job description. "If we increase entry fees, will we lose entries?" "If we invest in stabling, will it attract more riders?" "If we ask judge X to officiate, will trainer Z boycott us?" There comes a time in every organizer's life when he or she needs to throw caution to the winds, stop intellectualizing, take the plunge, and just do what feels right. That of course doesn't negate sleepless nights - but most organizers have these anyway! 

Officials face decisions many times during the course of a competition, and here too the principle of "just doing it" should come into play. The least effective officials are the ditherers. These hapless souls wont make a decision without agonizing stretches of time spent dithering about it. What rule covers this? Will a decision cause an ugly confrontation? Will I get sued? Maybe if I don't answer, the problem will go away. I was a T.D. for a very long time, and during my tenure, came to the (over simplified) conclusion that people who ask questions generally don't really care whether the response is a thumbs up or a thumbs down - they just want an appropriate answer in an appropriate length of time. Of course this is a rank generalization, but essentially, I think the philosophy holds true. The two tenets that must be followed in such situations are what is the intent of the rule, and how can a playing field be made level for all? Come to think of it, these two questions should never be too far from anyone's mind when dealing with eventing problems! 

Sadly we live in a "cover your ass" generation in which society habitually shifts blame to everyone else. (Look at the BP/Halliburton tap dance about the oil spill in the Gulf if you want a glaring example.)   Maybe it's time for all of us, at least in our sport and no matter how we're involved, to start accepting responsibility for the outcome and just do it. Maybe then we can start communicating in a reasonable way and solving problems without endless dithering and Ego-testing.  

        END

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