The second time around: A novice Amateur show story

Ride along with a “show mom” who made it back into the show ring after a 27 year break.
by Shelli Webster

It had been 27 years since I last competed in a horse show. Oh, sure I had been to horse shows of all kinds on a regular basis for the last 12 years; I was the show mom. I groomed, paid for the lessons, cheered, wiped tears, picked up show clothes, paid the tab, drove the truck and trailer, copied patterns, carried water, patted backs (of horses and kids), and enjoyed enormous amounts of pride.

All of those years I was listening and watching both at the lessons and the shows. I wasn’t a beginner. I rode as a child. As my twenty-two year old daughter, Mallory, called it, I was a “mushroom head,” first riding hunt seat. Western came to me along the way as I aged and experienced creaking joints. I regularly rode our 1991 retired Appaloosa mare, Sizzlin’ On Stage. But when Mallory drove off to college, leaving me a show horse to keep fit, I started riding “Im Specialized,” her sorrel 2001 Quarter Horse mare.

After about eight months of riding I felt I was ready to take a shot at showing. Next thing you know I found myself in the pen at an AQHA show, riding the show princess. I had a few lessons with the trainer, but I was still scared out of my wits. I remembered competing to be REALLY fun. Why wasn’t I feeling that now? Was I too old to start over?

I was entered in the Novice Amateur Western Pleasure class in a local AQHA show. That was my one class. How much easier could it get? Mallory was competing in showmanship, horsemanship, and trail. She should be nervous, not me. Wrong. She was telling me to relax and have fun.

I entered in the walk/jog class, just to work out the jitters before I rode in my pleasure class. Wow, was the trainer right about the need for getting the jitters out.

The first class was the worst. I couldn’t even keep my horse jogging. Clearly, I was a nervous wreck and my horse knew it. Breathing was a challenge. The trainer and Mallory kept telling me to breath and relax. My mind was a locked trap. Nothing would come out of it to help me. I was operating on panic, survival mode– not good when you’re on a horse. I kept thinking, “slow” and the horse said, “OK, I’ll walk.”

One corner of the arena had a large tarp draped over some equipment. Of course the horses thought that was the hiding place of the big scary monster. I rode with a strong inside leg to keep my horse on the rail. Each time around the arena was a little less stressful for me. As I relaxed and started to use my head, I started to feel as though I was having fun. We lined up for placing and I knew I didn’t do well. I was third of four. I still haven’t watched the video of that first walk/jog class. I was embarrassed more than anything.

My next class was novice amateur western pleasure with a few more entries than the walk/jog class. I had to lope in this class too. I put my spurs on and went on my way. This was a better ride. I could relax a little now. I was able to breathe and think more clearly. I even avoided a possible collision when I was passing a horse and rider and the horse in front of her suddenly cut into the center of the arena and nearly broadsided me. I calmly cut the end of the arena and scooted to the rail safely. This time I placed in the middle of my pleasure class.

I knew I couldn’t judge the fun factor on the first two-day show, so I committed to three more weekends of Quarter Horse shows. The downstate show proved to be more fun. Breathing was still difficult to remember, but I practiced some coping methods to help myself relax. First, I did not drink any caffeine before I rode–no need to confuse the caffeine rush for nerves. I warmed my horse up for a short while before my class, and then I quietly stood in the corner of the warm-up arena and “calm talked” to myself. I practiced all of those goofy sports psychology techniques that you hear about. I breathed; I envisioned a perfect ride; I took cleansing breaths; I pretended to be relaxed; I stayed focused; I replayed my lessons in my head.

Relaxing proved to be more attainable this time. I was ready. As I entered the arena, I heard the announcer say, “We are looking for 24 horses.” It was too late; I was already at the in-gate. I had no idea what to do with that many horses in the arena. Where should I place my horse to best show her off? Her jog was a little faster than most; we weren’t likely to spend much time on the rail, her favorite place. I wasn’t sure she would perform well off the rail. “Get a plan,” I said to myself. My mind was already locking up. I couldn’t get any information out of it.

As I passed the trainer and Mallory, they told me I was “fine.” I did not feel fine. Horse after horse passed us at the lope, but I had to come off the rail when we jogged. My horse started to spook from another horse’s misbehavior near the in-gate as we loped by. I used a strong inside leg and looked ahead to where I wanted her to go. It worked; she stayed on the rail and as seen in the video, it was hard to tell she was even spooking. The feeling of accomplishment overtook me and I started to enjoy my ride. This arena was an amazing and fun place to show. I placed in the middle of the class, just out of the points.

My next class was the day after next so I had a day to relax and watch Mallory show. She again excelled in showmanship and horsemanship. I realized that if I wanted to perform at that level in those two classes that I had a lot of work to do.

The next day I prepared for my class in much the same way that I did on the first day. I warmed up, breathed, and stood in the corner of the warm-up arena. It was yet another successful ride and I placed in the middle of the class. This horse showing thing was really becoming addictive and I couldn’t wait for the next show.

The first out-of-state show was another successful weekend for me. We had four days of classes. I would show on two of the four days again. I was really having fun now. The novice amateur western pleasure class had more riders, but the arena was large and open so it didn’t feel crowded. There was a lot to look at since the arena was only a covered pavilion. The new task was to keep my horse focused and working.

I did not get to ride in the show pen before my class. This at first stressed me out, but when I remembered that the trainer had ridden her the night before the show, I relaxed and reminded myself that it was not a new, unknown place to her. The drizzling rain was not enjoyable, but once in the arena it wasn’t a factor. The only distraction was a collie playing along the parkway outside of the pavilion.

I stayed focused and so did my horse. Learning how to control my nerves, excitement, and emotions helped me to better prepare for and enjoy my class. Both the covered and uncovered warm-up arenas were very crowded, but I was confident enough to keep looking ahead and ride my horse. I still placed in the middle of my classes, right where I was happy to be at this stage of my showing career. Of course, when Mallory placed second of twenty-five in Novice Amateur Showmanship, I felt both proud and jealous. How could she go away for nine months to college and spend a few days preparing and earn points in her class? My second day of showing was uneventful and I placed well, but just out of the points each time. I was still having fun; so I agreed to attend yet another out-of-state show.

It is a good thing that nobody told me about the level of competition at our neighboring state shows. Ignorance is bliss. I naively sang songs all the way to the show that Wednesday afternoon in rush hour traffic just outside of the city. I noticed the less relaxed attitude of the trainer as soon as we arrived. We unloaded while she rode our horse in the show arena. It was a short, get acquainted ride. We drove off to the hotel and dinner.

We arrived early the next morning for Mallory to prepare for trail class. The course was especially challenging and our horse was still green at trail. Just when it looked as though Mallory might have to scratch from the class, our horse settled in and performed each obstacle with confidence. What a relief it was that Mallory wouldn’t be disappointed. Again, Mallory had a successful ride, placing in the middle of her class. I anxiously waited my turn.

I rode our horse in the warm up arena before my novice amateur pleasure class. I did not ride in the show pen before my class, but I knew she had seen the sights while competing in the trail class. This time I didn’t find it hard to relax. I was used to the nerves, and I had good control of them. The arena was huge. There were a lot of horses in my class, but there were plenty of places for us to exhibit them. As we entered the arena, we each found a place on the rail to wait for the rest of the class to enter. I tried to judge the spacing between my horse and the horse in front of me, remembering that my horse jogs a little quicker than some and our lope is slower than most. I figured we would jog first, as the previous classes had today, so I tried to allow extra space for my horse to jog. The announcer called for a jog.

My nerves kicked in and just as I was about to ask my horse to jog, a good friend said very quietly off the rail, “Wait, wait, wait, breath.” He had been watching me, and he knew I was about to make the mistake of sacrificing the distance I needed between horses for the jog. I wanted to avoid passing anyone, so I should wait for the horse in front of me to move on first. I waited, and then moved off at the jog. Passing at the jog didn’t become a problem in this large arena: I used the corners and stayed on the rail. I knew that a few of the horses in my class were not usually in the pleasure class, so I was determined to place above them. Unfortunately, I let my horse flatten out and I didn’t place above all of the horses that I hoped to. Still, I placed in the middle of the class, just out of the points. My second day of riding fared the same as the first, except that I was better at finding a place to exhibit my horse and avoid passing anyone. Despite not placing higher in my classes, I felt that I was improving each time I showed.

It was June now, and show season was just really kicking into gear. For us though, our show season was winding down. Mallory’s summer job was in full swing, so we didn’t attend any more shows together the rest of the summer. In September, I decided to compete at a local open show since Mallory was away at college. I had never shown without the trainer and Mallory helping me. My husband agreed to be my groom and lend a hand. I was so nervous. I tried to follow the pre-show routine to keep my horse and me on track. I entered my age group classes and tried new things that I had not competed in previously at AQHA shows. I placed in all of my classes. I even won the Western Pleasure class. This show had a different atmosphere; it moved along faster. I didn’t really have time to get nervous. I decided to compete at the next open show in October.

I was completely relaxed at the October open show. I felt that I had been through this before and I knew what to do. Mallory came home for the weekend to act as my groom. We showed inside since it was a chilly fall day and my horse actually prefers to be inside. I again entered my age group classes: Western Horse halter, Showmanship, Western Pleasure, Western Horsemanship, English Equitation, Hunter Under Saddle. I notice that two people in my classes often competed at the AQHA shows that I competed at in the spring. This made me a little nervous.

The English classes were very full with more than ten entries in each. The Western classes were smaller with fewer than eight in each class. I lost my concentration in Showmanship and completely messed up the pattern, but so did almost everyone else, so I placed third. I won both of the Western classes and placed second in the large English Equitation class, placing above both of the people I knew to attend AQHA shows. I ended the day winning the daily age group high point championship. I was so excited!

I had finally overcome my nerves and just ridden my horse the way I had practiced. I wasn’t too old after all to start showing again. It was fun to compete just as I remembered from my childhood. Since my showing adventure, I noticed that a few other show moms have been dabbling in the show pen. Maybe they too remember the sweet childhood days of showing a good horse. Why not? After all, we moms have done it all for our kids and enjoyed every moment. We deserve a chance to try it again ourselves.
I have already competed at an open show in 2008 and again, I loved it! Now I want a show horse of my own!