Arden Wildasin and Sunday Times. Photo by Sally Spickard.
When Arden Wildasin leaves the start box at the 2025 Defender Kentucky Three-Day Event, she won’t be wearing a watch. She never does. Not because she doesn’t care about the clock—she does. But because time, for Arden, isn’t measured in minute markers. It’s measured in feel. In breath. In trust. In the way her longtime partner Sunday Times—”Mumbles” to those who know him—gallops beneath her with the kind of confidence you can only earn through time, determination, and attention to detail.
“I always want to feel what’s underneath me,” Arden says. “I don’t want to be told by a device how the round should go. I want to know how my horse feels. That’s what matters.”
That sentiment reflects everything about Arden’s journey to her first 5*. It’s not about the destination—it’s about the foundation. And hers wasn’t built quickly. It was built slowly, consciously, and honestly, with plenty of moments that tested her resolve and reshaped her identity as a rider.
Mumbles came into her life more than a decade ago, a quirky grey gelding purchased through the Goresbridge Go For Gold sale in Ireland. At first glance, he didn’t look like much—more pony than powerhouse—but Arden and her mom took a chance on him. He was bold on cross country and full of running, but riddled with questions in the jumping phases. For a while, no one was sure what he’d become.
“He’s always been the type where we say, ‘Let’s see what he wants to do,’” Arden explains. “It was never about pushing. If he wants to keep playing the game, I’m all in. If not, I’ll be the first to pull up. He doesn’t owe me anything.”
But the truth is, they’ve built something special—something stronger than a resume or record. Together, they’ve grown from the ground up. Arden brought Mumbles up the levels herself, and every step of the way, he’s kept showing her he was game for more. But it wasn’t a linear climb. And for a time, it wasn’t even a climb at all.
Arden Wildasin and Sunday Times. Photo by Sally Spickard.
Years ago, Arden stepped away from eventing completely after feeling burned out and alienated. Despite riding at a high level and earning opportunities with respected trainers, she felt like she didn’t belong. She didn’t feel seen. She didn’t feel joy. It all came to a head after a show where, despite being surrounded by peers and familiar faces, she felt utterly alone.
“I had friends in the sport, but I didn’t feel a part of them,” she says. “That’s a really strange, painful feeling. And I just didn’t want to keep throwing spaghetti at the wall and hoping it would stick.”
When she returned, it wasn’t with fanfare. It was with humility. She called Heidi White—who had once coached her mom—and asked to go back to basics. Not polish, not prep. Basics.
“She took me back to being a toddler,” Arden says. “The very first lesson, she asked me to bend him to the outside and use my inside leg, and I just stared at her. I had no idea what she meant. I’d gotten through the levels by being talented, by being scrappy. But the understanding wasn’t there.”
That moment was a turning point. With Heidi’s guidance, Arden rebuilt everything—her flatwork, her balance, her confidence. They dug into her riding like it was a new language to be learned. No assumptions. No shortcuts. They reshaped Mumbles’ strength and her mindset simultaneously. And slowly, everything began to change.
“Without her, I’d still be having rails. I’d still be on the watch list,” Arden says, referencing the humbling realization that she’d once been flagged as a safety risk—without anyone ever telling her. “It was heartbreaking. But looking back, it made sense. I didn’t know what I didn’t know.”
Arden Wildasin and Sunday Times. Photo by Sally Spickard.
Now, she does. Her dressage has improved. Her show jumping is solid. And her galloping? That’s always been her favorite.
“I’m a speed demon,” she laughs, “but not in a reckless way. I’m fast because I feel what my horses can give. They’re the athletes—I just get to ride them. It’s a blessing.”
It’s also a responsibility she takes seriously. Arden is hands-on in every aspect of her program. She’s the first one at the barn each morning, the one who preps the tack, checks the feed, coordinates the therapy routines, and braids before shows. Mucking stalls is her version of meditation. Braiding is her quiet time to think.
“If something’s off in the saddle, I want to know if something on the ground contributed to it,” she says. “That’s my job—to know my horses inside and out.”
Preparing for Kentucky has required more than just daily rides and meticulous routines. Arden brought in a fitness coach to ensure Mumbles would be ready—not just to get around, but to feel great doing it. And in solidarity, she’s matched that commitment herself. She gave up refined sugar to sharpen her focus, knowing her body and mind needed to be in sync with her horse. It’s one of many lifestyle shifts she’s embraced to be at her best—not just for Kentucky, but for every ride.
“This is supposed to be a joy,” she says. “We’re supposed to make mistakes. We’re supposed to learn. And if things go wrong? We deal with it, we grow, and we try again.”
Arden Wildasin and Sunday Times. Photo by Shelby Allen.
If the weekend goes to plan, she hopes to score in the mid-40s in dressage, gallop home with a confident clear on cross country, and finish strong in show jumping—even with a rail or two, she’ll be thrilled. But if Mumbles tells her he’s not feeling it at any point, she’ll pull up without hesitation.
“He’s earned that right,” she says. “He’s given me everything. This is already the dream.”
Still, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t imagining the finish line—and what comes after.
“There’s going to be ice cream,” she laughs. “Mumbles gets cookies. I get an ice cream sandwich. That’s the deal.”
EN’s coverage of Defender Kentucky is supported by Kentucky Performance Products. To learn more about Kentucky Performance Products’ science-backed nutritional support products, click here.
