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An
Amateur's Journey
Revelations by Keri Schenter |
It seems that in all the
years I've been writing Times for Amateurs there has been one common theme
that has kept my spirit and enthusiasm rolling along ... that overwhelming
desire to show at U.S. Nationals. So, when I sat down to write this, I
found myself at a complete loss for words. The only thing I could think
was: "Been there, done that."
Yes, the year 2007 brought many firsts for me, the culmination of course
was that much-anticipated trip to U.S. Nationals. Great horse, great
trainers, super support group ... it was my dream come true, and more. All
in all, however, I must say the experience was a bit under-whelming, but
for many reasons other than what most people might think. No, we didn't
win anything, but as much as I'd hoped to bring home a prize, it took a
lot of soul-searching for me to figure out what was missing. I finally
realized what "it" was: I had never thought to take the time to plan or
strategize what I might do after realizing my dream. After allowing myself
to enjoy my horse and so many friends in Albuquerque, I realized that my
ambitions had spread in vastly different directions than I had ever
expected over the years.
When I think about 2007 in retrospect, I have to remind myself of the many
life-changing experiences that I had. In the spring of 2006 I left home
(and horse shows) behind for several months when I went to work helping
with hurricane recovery efforts in Louisiana. Shortly after returning
home, I showed my horse--purely out of habit and desire--at one regional
show, but then packed up everything and moved across the country from
Washington to Alabama. Was I nuts?
No. Well, okay, I was in some respects. In reality I was allowing myself
to become less of a horse geek (all due respect for my fellow horse geeks)
and more of a person. I will always have a deep passion for horses and
showing, but I could not ignore the opportunity to carve out a new niche
for myself in an entirely different living and working environment. In
doing so, I found that I like myself more. While my horse is still my
security blanket--and my closest friends are still those from the barn--I
have been able to prove to myself that I don't have to live my life
focused on just one thing. Now I'm focused on three things: my horse,
swimming, and my job.
Seriously, all boring philosophical jargon aside, I've finally realized
that horse shows--no matter if it is a local schooling show or U.S.
Nationals--are just horse shows. There is always going to be someone who
is going to go home with a prize, and there is always going to be someone
going away disappointed. I've decided I'm going to be the one who always
goes away happy every time, because I've had the chance to be there and
tried my hardest to do well.
I've come to realize and accept the fact that winning isn't just about
being the best (at that given moment). I have come to wonder how many
people who "win" at the National level are really happy and content with
themselves? I used to think that the people who had bottomless checking
accounts got little personal satisfaction from winning, and wondered if
they were truly happy. I had this grand vision that those of us "normal
folks," if and when we were fortunate enough to win, would be bowled over
with a sense of satisfaction that was enormous enough to last a lifetime.
I know now, that my skewered vision of how others felt about winning was
about as shaky as my riding ability. It's a darn good thing I'm working to
improve both.
Like most amateur exhibitors, I ride because I love being around horses
and learning how to be a better, more effective, rider. Riding and the
nuances of getting a show ring performance just right has always been a
challenge for me. I often lament over the fact that so many of my peers
are gifted riders, and most of you can relate to what that means! Those
people who can get on a horse and just make "it" happen. No fuss, no muss.
I'm not that kind of a rider. I take each lesson knowing I'm going to take
something away from it that will help me in the long run. I used to get
frustrated when things wouldn't fall into place "soon enough," and I can't
tell you the number of times my trainers have said, "Don't put a time
limit on it!" It's all about doing it, because we love it. When and/or if
things fall into place, then you have the chance to revel in the
accomplishment. Just because I haven't won a national championship doesn't
mean I'm any less of a rider. Because I now understand more about how and
what it takes to make me tick as a person, I know I'm that much better off
in the show ring.
Yes, being able to show at the U.S. Nationals was my ultimate goal for the
longest time. I did that this year. Now I can tuck that particular dream
into my memory bank and work on those elements of my riding that have been
niggling at me. I understand how important it is to live and enjoy every
moment we have with our trusted equine and human peers, and if you don't
win a ribbon that doesn't mean you're any better or worse than the pair
walking away with the roses. Being at the U.S. Nationals is an
accomplishment in itself, and I am now even more excited about going back
and enjoying more of the process of getting there. I realized that while
the Nationals is a very prestigious place to end up, showing at regional
championship shows (and even at qualifiers) is something that I've not
allowed myself to get the full benefit from for many years. Now that I
know I can get to--and survive--a National show, I'm more determined than
ever to enjoy more of the rest of the picture.
Throughout the entire 2007 season I had the opportunity to watch the horse
show scene, which I am so familiar with, unfold in an entirely different
setting. Showing in Georgia, Mississippi, and Kentucky instead of
Washington and Oregon really opened my thought process, and my educational
background kicked into gear. (See, a Sociology major can do some good!) I
was able to watch and see what was actually happening around me. Since it
was all such a familiar tempo and routine, I was comfortable enough in
knowing what to do. Yet, the new faces and horses let me open my eyes and
ears to see what made it all tick.
I saw riders coming out of classes in tears ... some because everything
had gone wrong, others because they'd won a ribbon they never expected. I
saw exhibitors and trainers sharing hugs when things went just right, and
I also saw trainers turning away in disgust when things fizzled. I'm
fortunate that my trainer will always be there with a hug, good or bad,
and even a silly grin and/or a shrug if things were really ugly. What's
the point in taking winning or losing as the end of the world? We all know
there will be another horse show down the line. While at U.S. Nationals, I
was incredibly lucky to have my barn "families" from both the Northwest
and the Southeast there to see me ride. It was a dream come true, and even
though I didn't get to show in Tingley Coliseum, I did ride there later in
the week and loved every moment of it. I think, though, that was because I
was just happy to be on my horse, Country, and knowing the entire journey
had been worth it.
As you have no doubt figured out by now, my journey is far from over. I'm
grateful for the opportunity to continue, gaining more experience (and
friends) along the way. Here's to 2008 and beyond ... GOOD LUCK and HAVE
FUN.
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