The Reality of Chasing Big Dreams as Adult Amateurs

By Gwen & Alice

There is something truly incredible about competing at the top venues in this sport. The beautiful rings. The big jumps. The best horses and riders in the country. The energy of an A show when everything feels important, polished and just a little bit intimidating. It’s the kind of environment most of us dreamed about when we were younger. And when you finally get the chance to be there, to walk into those rings, to jump those tracks, to have your horse’s name on the schedule—it’s really special.

But there is another side to it, too. One that is not always visible in the photos, videos and highlight reels. Competing at this level as a working amateur, especially when you are self-funding, is hard. Really hard. It means early mornings before the show even starts. It means working from the barn, from the hotel, from the passenger seat, or wherever you can find a quiet enough spot and decent Wi-Fi. It means getting on before a call, rushing back after a meeting, and trying to make it all look somewhat seamless when it is anything but. It means that when your riding is done, you often do not get to just hang out, relax, shop, watch classes or enjoy the horse show in the way people imagine. Sometimes you’re immediately back on your laptop. Sometimes you’re answering emails in breeches. Often you’re trying to be fully present in two worlds that both require a lot from you.

Then there is the cost. This sport is expensive at every level, but the A shows and big venues are a different reality. The entries, stalls, hotels, travel, braiding, training, vet care, farrier bills, and everything in between add up quickly. When you’re funding it yourself, every decision feels significant. Every show is a commitment and every round carries the weight of how much it took just to get there.

But often the hardest part is not the schedule or the money. It’s the comparison. When you’re competing at big shows, you are surrounded by people who may (probably do) have more horses, more resources, more time and more flexibility. And the truth is, those things matter. They do not guarantee success, but they help because they create more opportunities to practice, to move up, to regroup, to have another shot. As adult amateurs, it can be really difficult not to look around and compare your journey to someone else’s. Someone who can ride every day when you are squeezing in lessons around work. Someone with more horses. Someone who can spend the whole winter circuit showing consistently while you are trying to make a limited schedule count. And sometimes, they will beat you. A lot.

That’s just the reality of this sport. It can be frustrating and humbling. And if we’re being completely honest, it can take a toll on you. Both of us have struggled with this over the last five or six years. We’ve had moments where we felt behind and wondered if we were doing enough. We have often compared our results, our riding, our horses, our budgets and our progress to people on completely different paths.

It’s not always easy to remind yourself that you are not competing with the same set of circumstances. But that’s something we’ve really had to learn: Your journey is your journey. And if you’re a working amateur, self-funding this sport, showing up at big venues and trying to hold your own while balancing real life—that is something to be proud of.

The older we get, and the longer we do this, the more we realize that gratitude has to be part of the equation. Not in a way that dismisses the hard parts, because they’re real, but in a way that helps keep perspective. We’re incredibly grateful for the opportunities we do have. We have a barn that makes it possible for us to chase these goals while still having careers and lives outside the ring. We are surrounded by people who support us, push us, laugh with us, and help us keep going when the sport feels impossible. This all gives us the chance to jump bigger jumps, show at bigger venues and experience moments we once only dreamed about. And we are especially grateful for the horses that have come into our lives and somehow carried both of us further than we ever thought we would go.

The truth is, this sport will humble you no matter how much money, time or talent you have. There will always be someone with more. There will always be someone ahead of you. There will always be another level, another goal, another class that feels just out of reach. But there is always something to be proud of.

For us, that has become the reminder. We may not have endless time, endless horses or endless resources. We may not always win. We may not always feel like we belong in the same ring as people with very different circumstances. But we are here, we are doing it, and that means something.

So to every adult amateur trying to make this sport work while working full-time, paying your own way and fighting the urge to compare yourself to everyone around you—we see you. We salute you. And we hope that you reach all your goals—whether it's learning to canter, going to your first schooling show, making your horse better, or simply just finding time in the saddle each week. May you find gratitude in every moment.