Adventures in Saddle Seat
Yesterday, I said that my life would be easy if I committed to saddle seat. So, why don’t I?
It’s expensive and I’d hate every minute of it.
Not riding or showing. I love the ASB attitude and showmanship. It’s the rest of the process that fails to appeal.
It’s expensive … Other people caring for your horse does not come cheap. Other people training your horse is an even faster wallet suck.
Let’s talk about showing. A new show outfit. A second suit if I wanted to do equitation. A show bridle. Fancy horse shoes. Show fees. Academy horses have several riders to share the costs. The show bill for my spiffy suit horse would be all on me.
… and I’d hate every minute of it. Someone else caring for my horse? No. Someone else making decisions about my horse? So much no. Someone else riding my horse on a regular basis? A thousand times no. I understand the paradigm. I know it works. Not for me. Not now. Not ever. Mine. Mine. Mine. Have I sufficiently conveyed my level of possessiveness?
If I had my heart set on ASB dreams, I would adapt. I would find a way to pay for it, as much of it as I could. I would come to terms with my control issues. If it was my dream, I’d deal. I just don’t want it enough. I don’t want it enough in any discipline. If the road to equestrian fame and glory means giving up the reins and being a guest on my own horse, I won’t go. I’ll keep my horses at home and stay a backyard hero.
I’ve said all of this six years ago, in my first year of showing saddle seat [Suiting Up]. Nothing has changed. Why repeat myself? I figured ‘Why not?’ was an reasonable response to yesterday’s post. So I answered the question.
One last note. Lack of barn drama is another benefit of the AOT life. Some barns have more; some barns have less. No barn is immune. The only sure-fire method to avoiding barn drama is the ability to walk away chanting, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’ If I had a horse in training, at SSF or anywhere, I would be one of the monkeys.
Thank you for reading,