Wine, art, some cheese, and friendships. What do they have in common? They all get better with time – just like the Senior Superstars we’re celebrating on YourDressage throughout the month of March!
A Senior Adult Amateur’s Torturous Journey to Grand Prix
By Edie Dwan
“To succeed, you must first fail many times.” Most of us would give lip service to failure as part of the journey to success. And yet the dressage world, filled with perfectionist type A personalities, prizes an elusive ideal of perfection, chastises mistakes, and celebrates the image of a young, fit and toned, beautiful rider floating down center line in a perfectly tailored outfit, horse gleaming, and saddle pad and breeches blindingly white, neither with a hair out of place.
Yeah, right! I’m a Type A – but as a 65-year-old, somewhat flabby grandmother of seven with chronic migraines, who sometimes can barely remember her own name (much less a dressage test), whose arthritic neck keeps her from being able to look over her shoulder, and whose wrinkles show up in the glaring daylight of every show picture… I’ve long ago had to let go of that perfectionist ideal. After all, perfection is the enemy of good, and we do what we can with what we have. I’m never going to look like that cover girl or ride like her, either, but maybe if I’m willing to look bad in my white breeches (is that a spot already?!), if I’m willing to risk frequent failures, great and small, I can actually do this thing.
I have trained my horse, Cidacos de Bariain, to Grand Prix, and we are beginning to compete together at that level after a reasonably successful journey through the FEI levels. It took five years (he was schooling Fourth when I got him), but we are doing it.
Whatever your goals are, dressage friend, you can do this thing! Is it to just get through a Training Level test? That’s a great goal, and we all started there! Is it to master the flying change? Keep working on it, get some training help, and you’ll eventually get there. USDF awards of various kinds? There’s something for everyone, and for us older riders, there are plenty of options for finding a path to success.
I didn’t set out on my dressage journey thinking I would eventually ride at the Grand Prix level. Oh sure, like every dressage rider, I dreamed of floating on a beautiful horse in a perfect passage or piaffe. I dreamed of effortlessly riding tempi lines. But to actually train a horse to that level, and then compete? HA! Impossible. I’m a decent rider, but I’m not very athletic, my reflexes are slower than they used to be, and sometimes I can’t hear the judge’s bell when the wind blows. But one soldiers on, even on the days when everything hurts, and nothing works. Never give up, never surrender. Oh yeah, and keep having fun, because if it’s not fun, what IS the point?
My dressage journey began, oh, more than fifty years ago. Yeah, back in the early days of dressage in California. I vividly remember being about 12 years old, a kid just learning to jump, when a young Lilo Fore came to our riding school and taught us a little “dressage.” Really, all she could do in one lesson was teach us how to come straight down centerline and halt, but the concept interested me.
A horse sport that was purportedly judged according to clear standards? Where you could make a mistake, recover, and still do well, each movement judged separately? I was intrigued, and my trainer and I switched from hunters to dressage; she trained with Liz Searle, one of California’s dressage pioneers, and passed on what she learned to me and my plucky Appendix quarter horse. In those days, warmbloods were just starting to be imported and bred here, but most of us rode whatever we had: Quarter Horses, Thoroughbreds, Arabians, and so on.
In my 20s and 30s, life was very full with marriage, work, and three young children. I had little time (or money) for horsing around, other than occasional trail riding and riding friends’ horses.
In my 40s, the kids were busy in high school, and my longing for a horse of my own blossomed. Several horses came into my life during that decade, each of whom broke my heart with their various illnesses and injuries that required them to be retired or semi-retired. Making riding goals felt hopeless, although I enjoyed riding on a dressage Quadrille team and studying classical dressage with a wonderful trainer. Goals? I just wanted to ride more in harmony with my horse. Maybe show once in a while, although I rarely made it to any during that decade.
It’s been said, “We make our plans, and the angels laugh.” As every horse person knows through painful experience, the only thing you can count on with horses is that it will cost much more than you expected, take much longer, and may not even happen at all. There will be tears, discouragement, and pain (both emotional and physical), along with the joy, excitement, and fun.
In my 50s, I had a sound (enough) horse, and the dressage show bug bit me. It would be fun to compete, right? My dear friend, Carolyn, came to most of my shows, showing up early in the morning to braid in the dark and trailer to the show, offering relentless encouragement and practical help. While showing multiple tests a day at the lower levels while trying to earn scores for awards and gain experience for me and the horse, my friend’s clear and distinct “teacher voice” reading the tests was essential for me. Slowly, we worked our way up from Training Level, through Second Level. The path was not even; some tests went great, others not so much.
Well, we make our plans, and the angels laugh. Years of toil ensued, but no Silver Medal. I showed some and trained lots, but I was stuck. It was time to either change my methods or change my dream.
As my 60th birthday approached, I found myself surfing the web, dreaming of buying a Grand Prix schoolmaster. Why not? (Oh, don’t get me started on the myriad of very good reasons why not.) I had always dreamed of riding piaffe and passage; it looked so beautiful and harmonious! With a Grand Prix schoolmaster, maybe, just maybe, I could actually ride the Grand Prix test, or at least learn some of the FEI movements. Ha ha ha, we make our plans, and the angels laugh, but my sixth decade felt like the time for a really big dream, and this one was compelling. Realistic? Nope. But a goal worthy of effort.
The dream: earn my USDF Bronze Medal. It took years (my horse without flying changes was a bit of a problem), but finally, we got there! Continuing on, with good scores at Fourth Level, a Silver Medal seemed within grasp. Surely that wouldn’t take long?
After months of fruitless searching, the budget had increased, but a Grand Prix schoolmaster under 15 years old was still far out of reach. Time to revise what I was looking for! I looked at younger horses with purported “talent to reach Grand Prix,” a very “iffy” proposition for anyone who has attempted this. Maybe the horse and I would learn FEI together and see how far we got.
A handsome bay gelding, cousin to my Pure Spanish Horse (PRE) mare, appeared on the internet. Cidacos De Bariain was a seven-year-old, 16-hand, half PRE/half Westphalian, all of him spunky, handsome, and adorable with loads of personality. With show experience, and a little beginning of piaffe and passage, Cidacos looked like a horse who – in the right hands – could get to Grand Prix. What’s not to like? Oh… the price… well, we negotiated, I spent more than I wanted to, but he was mine! We were on our way to the FEI and to Grand Prix.
Ah, but we make our plans, and the angels laugh. I had to learn along with Cid, and I learn far more slowly. I ride my own horse, and do my own training with coaching from great professionals. I have always wanted to learn how to do it myself because the learning is the interesting part. Cid, while very rideable, is also the most intelligent horse I have ever met, really smarter than me sometimes. He humbled me again and again as I realized I had so much to learn and needed to be a whole lot fitter. I had to become a much better rider to ride him at FEI. It took me many attempts and failures to get there, and I sometimes despaired that I ever would.
However, I do have grit, determination and a wonderful horse. I fail repeatedly on the way to success, but I try to learn from my mistakes, and keep going back and trying again. Sometimes, I get stuck and take a step back for a bit, but I keep pressing forward toward my dreams, whatever they are. I’m willing to feel inept, look incompetent, and be last in the class, but I’m going to keep going. All of those years of showing with my friend Carolyn taught me to ride a test, manage my show nerves, braid and organize myself and my horse at a show, and attempt to enjoy it all.
Cidacos, though not a Grand Prix schoolmaster when I bought him, has been an excellent teacher in the end. Even better, he always makes me laugh and has earned a number of nicknames. Cidalious, when he’s snuggly, and I kiss his delicious nose; Cidagator for when he’s nippy; Cidling for when he’s ridiculous. His expressive face, snarky attempts to nip (naughty!), smoldering half-lidded eyes when he enjoys a rub or caress – the horse has my heart.
We’re not actually very GOOD at Grand Prix yet, but it’s a continuous journey of learning and getting stronger. But we can do all the elements and put them together in a test. It took a village to get here: gifted and encouraging trainers such as Shannon Peters and Heather Kennedy, dedicated and knowledgeable farriers and vets, supportive friends, and especially my husband and adult kids. They always believed we could do it, and helped me pick myself back up after some spectacular failures.
And there were many failures. As an Adult Amateur, I have shown for the challenge, fun, and experience. Sometimes, I overfaced myself; sometimes, my migraines kicked in, and I could not concentrate (or remember the test); and sometimes, things just fell apart because that’s what they do.
Once, Cid was obsessed with a woman standing just by the judge’s stand, taking shiny things out of her backpack. Every time we were at that end of the ring, and he saw her, he would stop dead and STARE, not moving for long seconds while I fruitlessly kicked. Another time, I went off course two days in a row in the Intermediate 1 test. In different places, but still, off course! Sigh. It took me well over a year to reliably get the 15 one tempis; I was beginning to think it was not possible until my coach, Heather, gave me a talking to. “Just look across the diagonal and ride those changes! Make it happen! You CAN do this!” Deciding I would do it or die in the attempt, Cid and I finally figured it out.
Growth requires moving constantly out of your comfort zone. It’s not safe or easy. If you want success, you have to risk failure and keep going in the face of discouragement. Dressage takes focus, grit, dedication, and determination. But, oh, the joy of mastering a new movement! Of feeling yourself actually sitting correctly and flowing with the horse! Of harmony with your horse and his sense of contentment at a job well done! Of occasionally earning a great score!
Has it been worth all the effort, injuries, setbacks, time, and money? Heck yeah! I love my horse, and I think he (usually) loves me. We’re a team. If the angels laugh at my plans, and we don’t make it to that Gold Medal for one reason or another, I hope that we have years of ambling down the trail together.
Thank you, Cidacos, for every ride, every smolder, and every day you’ve given me.
love this! You go Grandma!!!!