By Elyse Hart
The prominence of having people in your life who apply the anesthetic of love, but also wield the scalpel of truth is invaluable, and I am indebted to them for every ounce of my personal growth as both a human being and rider. It’s what gives me the luxury of enjoying and maintaining my sobriety. It’s what inspires me to no end. Because of these special people and connections in my life, I got to participate in a show recently that will go down as a huge learning opportunity and milestone of mental strength.
Riding in a shadbelly means one of two things: 1.) that you are crazy enough to think you have put in the work to ride at the top levels of our sport, or 2.) that you have put in the work. The first time I rode in one, I was crazy enough to think I had put in the work. This time – no matter what came of it – I knew we had put in the work. Lots of work. Of all different kinds.
Three years passed before Bob and I would ride in the FEI show ring after our first attempt, and truthfully, it’s not something I really thought would come to fruition. For those of you who are new to our journey, Bob and I initially went from riding Intro Level dressage to Prix St. Georges (PSG) in a matter of sixteen months. At that time, I had never shown past Training Level, and Bob had never shown past Third. Our route is not one I would recommend, nor something I would do over if given a chance to make different decisions. Why?…
Three years ago, during the same October show at the Southern California Equestrian Center, Bob and I rode down centerline for our first PSG. I published A Tale Of Tails following that show, and two weeks later, Bob was badly cast in his stall, resulting in an injury that almost cost him his life. In a separate incident about a month later, I was involved in an accident that almost cost me my life.
Most everything about our partnership has changed, or is in the process of changing, due to lessons learned out of necessity. That is a huge value to our sport – it is a journey of learning.
Three years ago, as someone returning to the sport after a seventeen-year hiatus, I had a completely different level of knowledge about training, horsemanship, and our sport. I hope that three years from now, I will look back and have a similar ethos, but with even more knowledge.
For example, I could not put a double bridle on Bob without giving him a cookie. I had no idea there was any correlation between bridling a horse and submission/hind-end activity. I had NO idea that my lack of understanding followed us into our ride, and beyond.
I now know how to activate his hind legs before bridling, and how to maneuver his head back and forth to get him to drop it and accept the bridle more readily. It makes such a huge difference to focus on things that might seem small, but become a theme in your partnership, leading to larger issues.
Bob is an opinionated horse, with whom we have worked hard to find his “listening ears.” I have had to learn how to wait, to relax, to engage, to connect, and so many other things I was mystified about in the years prior. He can be temperamental by nature, which led to me becoming fearful of him and unable to lead. Now, he craves a leader. Truth be told, 99% of the trouble we get into currently is because I am not acting like a leader, but we have made a complete 180 in this area, and for that, I am the most proud.
Going into this weekend, I knew that we might still be tackling some of the baggage that we were working past into the show ring with us as a result of moving up the levels so quickly together. I always laugh and say that showing is my favorite time to become a passenger rider. Why not pay a hefty sum to trailer your horse to a different location to be judged by someone while you do your worst riding? It makes sense to me, apparently!
The goal for me was to keep Bob calm and collected, and to ride from a calculated cerebral mindset – and we both delivered. On Sunday, we improved upon our test from Saturday, and I was so proud of both of us. We earned our Fourth Level scores for my USDF Silver Medal, and just missed our first PSG score by a hair, but I couldn’t care less. We had so many moments of growth where Bob trusted me to lead, and I did just that.
In our sport, it’s important to share the sweet, the bitter, and the contrasting moments. So much of what we see today are only highlight reels, with ribbons and high points – and that couldn’t be further from the truth for so many of us. Grit is what you get from staying your course, and it’s a service to let the next in line behind you know that it’s possible to ride alongside you. It’s a true joy to be able to share our truth.
Finding someone on this journey of growth in our industry can be an incredibly mixed bag. In A Tale Of Tails: Part One, I wrote about how a competitor in my class loaned me her shadbelly. That person has since gifted me that shadbelly (that I got to wear for a second time this past weekend), and has become my mentor, trainer, friend, and such a golden thread in my life that I don’t know how I’ll ever thank her.
Kim Kulesa has been a staple in our community for years, and I am so humbled and honored to learn alongside her. Those of us who are in her orbit know how truly gifted we are to be able to learn from someone who is a true horsewoman. She is a dressage trainer, yes, but she is also a horsewoman and behaviorist.
The way you get a willing, submissive, trusting, and HAPPY horse is by first understanding the animal, and then properly utilizing exercises in our dressage treasure chest at the right moment, with the correct intention and intensity. This is “Miss Kim’s” wheelhouse. On top of all this, Kim is also a psychology major, which has helped me look at my own behavior differently as it relates to decisions I make in the saddle, and beyond.
Every day that I get to continue on this journey of love, learning, and healing with Bob, Kim, and our team is a day won. I thank you all for your support over these past years. The people I have met in our community are such a large part of my heart, and I’m thankful for each and every one of you! I would also like to thank my family and sponsors who make this sport possible to participate in; without you I would be lost!
If you want to read more of Elyse’s journey, check out A Tale of Tails: Part One and her other previous YourDressage articles: Riding and Recovery and Full Circle on Centerline.
