Riding at Rolex
There was a microsecond where I felt what it might be like to be a Rolex competitor. It was both an illusion and one of the high points of my life. It happened thusly:
In April of 2010, Rolex was practicing for WEG later that year, including elaborate credentialing and security guard scanning of same. I was volunteering at a fence on cross-country (Assistant, Assistant Fence Judge, if you must know). Therefore, my credentials said COMPETITION in contrast to volunteers who would not be on “the field of play”. Even on days you didn’t volunteer, you worn your credentials for admission and identification. It was early in the week and early in the day. I was, on a fluke, reasonably well-dressed on account of the cold morning. I was probably one of the first volunteers this security guard had seen.
Picture us. Me older, nicely dressed in a sweater and silk scarf. Her, younger, on assignment from the security company, possibly knowing zip about horses in general or eventing in particular. She scans my credentials, looks up at me, and, with awe in her voice, says, “Good luck!” Well, yeah, I hope everything goes well. Wait. What? She thinks I’m riding. Me. Rolex. Riding. Me. Wow, what if I really was getting ready to jog my horse today? I was struck speechless. I merely smiled and walked past her in a mesmerized cloud.
Until Rolex adds a Baby Novice division, this is as close as I’m going to get. I’ll take it.
One horse eliminated at the jog. That has to, as my college roommate used to say, suck pond water. (Why pond water? If you’d ever ingested any, you wouldn’t need to ask.)
What was your big moment?