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The Amateurs Guide: The Window

Sarah, aboard Annie, with her son—“My biggest fan and lucky charm.”Photo by Totem Photographics
Sarah, aboard Annie, with her son—“My biggest fan and lucky charm.”Photo by Totem Photographics

Here’s something new I’m navigating as an adult amateur a few years into my comeback era: the window.

The window of time I feel I have to be here, in this space doing what I love. For me, that’s horse showing. I love working towards a goal, having a destination in front of me, an experience to look forward to, rising to the occasion of competition and, to be honest, the glamour of it all.

But, as the saying goes, with age comes wisdom and I know now that this isn’t forever.

With that age and wisdom, what I’ve realized is this: I’m not just working within my own physical limitations around how long I’ll be able to do this sport, but I’m also considering my horse’s age and what might be available to her; and on top of that, I’m the parent to a young child whose competitive sports endeavors I want to be able to support financially and to be present for.

With those three windows to align, I know that realistically, I have just a few years before one, or all of them, are closed.

The good news is that with wisdom also comes perspective. So, instead of seeing that as the impending and inevitable end of an era, I choose to see this reality as a reminder, and more importantly, motivation to truly live in and appreciate the present.

Every horse show I have in my calendar is a gift and I’m determined to treat every one of them as if I’ll someday look back on that day or that week and know that I made the most of every minute of it.

So here’s how I’m making sure I’m squeezing every bit I can out of my horse show window.

I’m setting goals that have nothing to do with the results in the ring.

Sarah savoring a show moment with Annie.Photo by Totem Photographics
Sarah savoring a show moment with Annie.Photo by Totem Photographics

Everyone likes to win, or heck, even a ribbon is nice, but if that’s all I measured my horse show success by I’d be leaving so much on the table. Now, I’m adding up the “wins” at record pace.

Fitting in the strides, being able to take a breath and be relaxed in the ring, finding balance and rhythm throughout the course, staying soft instead of pulling, having a quality warm up. These are all things that make me feel successful, proud of myself and like I’ve given my best. If the results are that the judge sees a good round too, excellent. Icing on the cake.

I’m clearing my schedule to allow quality time at the show.

As adult amateurs, being at the show is often a win in and of itself.

Just to get there we’ve planned to adjust work projects or coverage at the office, used our PTO, negotiated childcare with a spouse or family members, and dipped into the family vacation fund.

Plus, we’re still going to be ‘paying for it’ when the show is done, when we have an overflowing inbox to return to, credits to re-deposit into the relationship account, and even before the show starts, we’ll be making sure there is a pantry full of food and drawers full of clean clothes alongside doing our horse show packing.

But that’s what it takes to make sure that while I’m waiting for the under saddle to start, I’m not watching the clock knowing time is ticking to get back to that client, or back for pick up, or home to start dinner.

And honestly, I think it’s necessary to give myself the horse show experience I deserve.

I’m preparing for everything that goes on outside of the ring.

All of that work to get there, sights set on achieving my goals, plus the quiet pressure to make this the best horse show yet because of everything that had to align to make it happen… none of that matters if every day I’m overwhelmed, scattered and playing the “waiting, waiting, waiting… then panic rush and spiral” game.

I’m someone who gains confidence from feeling prepared. I like knowing what’s happening around me and how it affects me, my day and my plan. I don’t love surprises, or that feeling of being the last to know.

Because once I start feeling rushed, reactive, scattered or like everyone else knows something I don’t, it has the ability to impact not just my day, but how I walk in the ring.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that “calm and focused” wasn’t accidental.

I knew that the people who seemed relaxed and organized at horse shows usually weren’t just naturally “chill”, easy-going people. They had systems. Routines. Plans. They knew what worked for them, and they prepared for that. It was intentional, and required effort.

So I started building a plan for my horse show experience, too.

I used my years as a professional groom, plus my love for operational efficiency and a well-executed plan, to create systems that keep me feeling prepared instead of reactive.

My morning routine. My horse show math to get the timing right. The organization that keeps me from spiraling. The grooming discipline to keep a white horse white. The post-show care routines that keep her feeling as good as she looks. And the systems that keep me going all day, and all week, without completely falling apart by the end of it.

Truth is, most of the focus we put into preparing for the horse show goes into what will happen in the ring, and fair, that’s pretty important.

But we can’t forget about everything it takes to get us to the in-gate, day after day.

And with any one of my windows closing, I may only have a few trips left.

There’s no way I’m going to let a busy warm-up ring frazzle me, a swapped lead ruin my day, or feeling disorganized steal the experience from me.

I don’t know exactly how many more years I’ll get to do this with Annie, or how many seasons of life will align in a way that lets horse shows fit into my world.

But I do know this: I’m not willing to spend the time I do have feeling scattered, overwhelmed, exhausted and too stressed to enjoy it.

I want to be present for it.

All of it.

And honestly, I have a feeling a lot of adult amateurs are starting to feel the same way.

Maybe that’s the shift.

Not just preparing for the class, but preparing in a way that lets us actually enjoy the experience we worked so hard to get to.

About the author

Sarah Farrell writes about the real-life experience of returning to horses as an adult, from horse shows and grooming to balancing horses alongside careers, family, and everything in between. She is the creator of The Amateur’s Guide and shares more online in Instagram @annietheoneeyedhunter

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