Eventing, and a stumbling block.


Today we went to Nuenna Farm for the Riding Club Horse Trials.  I had offered our services to mark a fence, as it is a thankless job that very few volunteer for, but we enjoy being part of the day.

I started the day with a run in Tramore, although it wasn’t one of my easier runs, hard on the legs and the mind, then home to fresh yoghurt with some of the fruit we picked yesterday.  So the day started well.

Yougrt with fresh loganberries, blueberries and gooseberries
Yoghurt with fresh loganberries, blueberries and gooseberries

 

Obviously we couldn’t go empty handed to spend the day with friends, so we brought a chocolate cake.  And even though I say so myself, it was really quite good.

Fresh loganberries, triple layer of buttermilk chocolate sponge and a whipped dark chocolate ganache.

The cake being decorated
The cake being decorated
The cut cake
The cut cake

The picture is a bit dark, but you get the gist.

When we got to the course we walked the cross country as so often we get too involved with marking or running around and it was nice to see all the fences all my friends would be discussing.

We spent a lovely couple of hours marking the fence, the sun was shining and all was good. The fence doesn’t look like much, and in fact there were two fences before it for the higher classes, to make it into a combination.

The fence
The fence

And I watch.  And wish it was me.

Why isn’t it me? Fear.  Stomach churning, palpitation fear.  The fear of what is something I constantly grapple with.

Falling off? I do this quite regularly, and, touch wood, tend to do everything so slowly that the fall inflects more damage to my pride than everything else.

Fear of failure? Not really this either, as I am not competitive, and have watched too many events to know that horses are great levellers.

Enough of the why. How do I help myself.  Being honest, I don’t know.  And also don’t know if I ever will get over the crippling fear.  Even writing about it is causing my heart to beat faster and I can feel my chest constricting.

Will I ever event, or compete again? Honestly, I don’t know. And it’s not the end of the world in the grand scheme of things.  Does it mean I don’t love my horses, no, I love Missy more than anything.  But sometimes it’s just makes me a little sad.

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