Why Bother With Nerves?
So I get nervous before my class at a horse show. So what? So I dissolve into a seething cauldron of stomach acid on the mounting block before a lesson. Why does this require calling in a professional [First Appointment]?
It is out of proportion. In my saddle seat lessons and show classes, I am required to walk, trot, & canter at controlled speeds around a flat, manicured arena. How is this cause for alarm? This is not bungee-jumping off the Kawarau Bridge.
It is growing. Since the early days, I’ve been nervous about getting on a new horse, with the inexplicable exception of Previous Horse [In Defense of Caesar]. Even the rock solid George [photo] caused me trepidation at the start. But I eventually got over it. I don’t seem to be getting over it lately, not even with St. Alvin [photos]. Nor are the shows getting easier.
It is limiting.
SSF. I suspect that there might be interesting opportunities available if I didn’t freeze like a startled possum at the idea of riding anyone other than an entry-level school horse.
Rodney & Milton. ‘Nuff said.
Jumping. Back in the summer I visited a barn to talk about jumping lessons. Between the hot weather & show schedules, we never found a time. Then came boot camp [Progress Report]. I didn’t want to the two styles to conflict, at least, anymore than they already did. Now, nationals is over. The 2015 show season is over. I’m stylistically free as a bird. Go jump something. Have a lesson or two. Hop over 2-foot fence. The very thought feels me with dread. Part of me says, Yes! Jump all the things! The other part says, oh. hell. no.