Lessons from the Grand Prix Ring

I truly got to see some flying horses last night at Tails But No Black Tie, New Orleans's only grand prix event. It's a calcutta that raises money for City Park, and it's held at a stable where I used to ride. It was fun, of course. (When is it not fun to watch world-class riders in their element?) But it was also a night filled with lessons. As it turns out, the atmosphere of the Grand Prix Ring fosters an educational environment.

As I compared this other stables and these other riders with my current riding situation, I had a moment of spiritual insight, in which I realized what it truly is that draws me to a barn. It's not the facilities or the horses or the trainers or anything that ever logically occurred to me. All along, I've been thinking that those things were what appealed to me in a riding center, but that's not it at all. What I really want is acceptance. And don't we all? To feel like a part of the family; to be, as I was identified as last night, "a Magnolia girl"; to feel like my presence at that place makes a difference to not only the horses but the people who are there. The physical qualities of a farm are all very important, but it's really the intangible things that matter. And I think that's at least a little bit true for everyone.

I also learned that everyone shows off, just a little bit (you should see these riders try to impress the crowd!), but humility can pay off. There was a little bit sad/mostly funny moment last night when I rider in the jump-off had flown around the course impossibly fast and was clean riding up to the last fence. Assuming he would make the last fence (which is generally an easier jump for the horses), the audience began to applaud the fantastic round, and the rider began to show off. He urged his horse into a head-long gallop, beelining it for the last fence and then the finish line, but in his display, he got his horse too flat and they positively tore down the last fence. They were so busy showing off, he couldn't regain enough of his horse to make it over the jump in one piece! Humility pays off, my friends.

I also had the reaffirmation that, yeah, they may not blink as they gallop up to a six foot fence, but regardless, Grand Prix riders are not the equestrian gods some people make them out to be. As the celebrities of the horse world, "they're people, too." It was strange, watching firsthand as women I had just seen storm the arena with power and passion fuss with their horses as they put them back into their stalls, talking idly about whether to trailer back that night or the next morning, making jokes about their rides and their horses. How they're able to come off the high of rushing over huge fences in order to chat idly with their friends just minutes later, I'll never understand. But somehow they can do it. I guess it's somewhat of a normal ride for them.

I love horse shows of any kind, because there's something to be learned just from people watching, never mind actually watching the riders and their trainers. But there's something about watching the grand prix shows, with their great riders and amazing horses, that's truly inspiring. I wish I could stand on their sidelines more often.