"You, you got what I need!"

Oh Biz Markie, I hear ya buddy!

Doesn't actually have anything to do with this post, but c'mon, it's Biz Markie!

If the plight of the equestrian world had to be summed up in one cliche sentence, I believe it would be "keeping up with the Joneses".  Whether at your barn, on social media, or on that wonderfully wallet-depleting Tack of the Day website (so much money spent there!) we are constantly bombarded with the "could haves".

The other day, I caught myself coveting a super nice horse trailer.  Four horse slant load, living quarters, it even had a flat screen TV! *drool*.  As I looked over my poor, 20-year-old Dalton two horse gooseneck with chipping paint and an interior that my husband and friend's husband are so valiantly trying to save, I thought to myself "man, if only..."

Look! I'm getting wooden floors! WooHoo!

"If only" has to be one of the most dangerous terms to come out of an equestrian's mouth.  Really, anyone's mouth.  "If only" implies that at the moment, we can't do our best, or be our best, because we don't have this, we need that.  Here are some frequent "if only" statements that I have heard, probably in the past six months (and I've uttered quite a few myself if we're being honest!)

-If only I had a better saddle
-If only I had more money
-If only I could live ________
-If only I had a horse with better potential
-If only I could ride as much as she/he does
-If only my parents were rich

The list goes on and on.  It's so easy to fall into the trap of telling yourself "it's okay if I'm not working at 100% right now, because I don't have ______".

I'm telling you now, it's not okay.

It's not okay to wait until the future, until you have more, until you can afford more.  If you are not working at 100% capacity right now, that is not okay.

What is okay, however, is acknowledging your situation.  Let's use the "horse with better potential" scenario, because that seems to be a quite frequent one.

So your horse can only compete at training level.  Meanwhile, Suzie TooRich is moving up to Preliminary or Intermediate, because Daddy TooRich is writing out checks left and right for her to have the horse, the training, the fancy trailer, etc.  "Well, I could do that too, IF ONLY I had Suzie's daddy" we say.  So we kick around at training level, staring off into the horizon of preliminary and intermediate, asking ourselves why we bother if we can't ever move up because of financial setbacks.

Here's the hard truth: you may never move up.  You may never be able to afford a horse of that caliber, and you may never find that rich old uncle who has left you a castle in England.  Life isn't a fairy tale, and sometimes we can't always get what we want (I'm listening to music while I write, can you tell?)

BUT, this is the harder truth: YOU are wasting YOUR time and YOUR joy by coveting Suzie.  YOU are draining YOUR motivation and desire.

Which means YOU have control over this.

So stop saying "if only" and start saying "I can".  Let's look at those statements above, and change them into I can statements:

-I can learn to ride in this saddle, and if the opportunity arises to get a nicer one, I will be that much better.
-I can budget for what I need, and find ways to work towards what I want.
-I can look for opportunities in my area, and help my equestrian community grow.
-I can ride this horse to his/her best potential, and explore other areas of training to strengthen my ability as a rider.
-I can manage my time efficiently to get in as much ride time as my life currently allows, and make the most of that time.
-I can work hard at school/work so that I can afford myself the opportunities I desire later in life.

I know what it's like to feel like you work hard and don't come away with anything.  You do your best to help everyone, you keep your nose clean, you take care of what little you have, and yet it feels like you're just stuck with no hope of things getting better. I get it.  However, I am making a decision right now to stop looking at my barn "neighbors" (no pun intended), at the posts on Facebook, at those gorgeous breeches for sale on Tack of the Day, and wanting.  I am going to look at my beautiful horse, at my opportunities to ride with friends and trainers when I can afford it, and yes, even my sad little trailer, and I am going to be thankful for these opportunities, and I'm going to give 100% to be the best I can be with what I have.

Who's joining me?

I Quit!

At my barn I have a few students, most of them under the age of 13, some as young as 5.  While my overall focus is on becoming a sport psychology consultant, I have to admit that most of the time, these kids brighten up my day.  I don't have dreams of having a massive lesson operation, and I'm quite happy with my little group of go-getters, but I have a confession to make. 

On days like today, when I feel like this:

30 MPH wind gusts. Unnecessary.

I question my sanity.  Why on earth am I outside? Why am I subjecting myself to sore ears, a wind burnt face, and once again keeping Chapstick in business for another year with my poor cracked and dry lips.  

So I call my friend, who also happens to have questionable sanity, and the first thing I say is:

"I quit!"

"You don't quit."

"Nope, I quit.  This is ridiculous."

"Don't make me get the lunge whip after you."

We then go on to list all the reasons why we are insane for standing out in hurricane force winds.  We laugh at ourselves, and my friend reminds me that if I did quit, and got a "normal job" that I would hate life within six months.  She's totally right.  

I know what you're thinking right now. "GASP! Shannon, that is so negative! You always talk about being positive and thinking positively!" 

You're right, it does sound negative. However, I believe that venting, in moderation, is a healthy way to express emotions, as long as you put a cap on it, and you vent smartly.  So here are some tips for "Smart Venting!"

1.  Choose who you vent with wisely.  Choosing someone who is negative or loves negativity can send you down a rabbit hole.  Choose someone who will let you say your piece, but then will lift you up rather than pull you down.

2.  Don't dwell.  Get it out, then find the silver lining.  Find some way to appreciate the situation.  It's not easy, but every situation we encounter is a learning and growing opportunity.

3.  Venting is different than talking about a serious problem.  Save venting for the little stuff (like this awful weather!) Venting is when we can exaggerate and be dramatic.  If there is something honestly bothering you, or if you are dealing with a difficult situation and need to talk to someone, let them know that you need to talk.  Don't broadside them if you can help it.  

4.  Wrap it up.  In the case above, we grumbled for a few minutes about the weather, then we moved on and talked about more productive things.  

Getting back to my lesson students, I honestly wanted to just cancel lessons today, go home, and curl up with a book while listening to the rain and wind howl outside.  I knew that riding was going to be out, so we would have to do classroom lessons.  While I believe classroom lessons are an integral and necessary part of learning to become a good horse person, I will admit that it's much more fun to teach them in the saddle! However, knowing how excited my students were to come learn kept me going, and at the end of the day, when I see the light bulb come on as a new student puts together her first bridle and successfully identifies all the pieces of her tack, and when another student learns to pull a mane and does a beautiful job on her first try, I see that silver lining.  I see the exact reason that I am insane enough to spend all day outside in the howling wind, the rain, the thunderstorms, the freezing cold and the suffocating heat.  

If she's not careful she's going to be on permanent mane pulling duty! She caught on quick!

I see the silver lining, and at the end of the day, when I trudge into the house twelve hours after I left it, smelling like a barn, with hay in my hair, and rosy red cheeks, and I stare blankly at the man in my house (some people say he's my husband?) I smile inwardly and I think "I'll never quit." 

Praise More, Punish Less

I get frustrated easily.  Very easily.  It has always been a character flaw of mine that I have continuously worked on over the years, and I like to think I have improved, but no one can frustrate me quicker than my DH (Dear Horse) Black Jack.  

Oh yes, my darling little should-have-been-a-mare gelding is the ultimate button pusher when it comes to our relationship.  If horses could giggle, he would be the one laughing maniacally as he careens out of the 20 meter circle we're attempting in our dressage test knowing well and good how beautifully he worked that same 20 meter circle in warm-up.  He is the one that will decide during your XC run he isn't going anywhere near that trakehner, only to jump it two weeks later during a lesson with a "what's the big deal?" attitude.  

What I imagine Black Jack's face looks like during dressage

God, I love him.

No really, I do.  Thanks to Black Jack, I am slowly becoming the epitome of a patient rider.  If I push him to quickly, he caves to the pressure.  If I demand too much, he snarls and backs up 100 mph.  If I am too quick to punish, he's quick to give me a taste of my own medicine (note: it tastes like dirt). 

This past weekend, in the aforementioned XC lesson, Black Jack was in top form.  Jumping like an old pro, never giving a jump a second glance, and I was having a ball.  I mean, grinning from ear to ear, laughing like a school girl on her first date, good ol' time.  

Then we went to the ditch.

Yes, THE DITCH.  Now mind you, we had already jumped the training level ditch, which I'm pretty sure he yawned over, but then we asked him to cross over the teeny, tiny baby ditch next to the (also aforementioned) trakehner and he LOST HIS MIND.  Okay, so maybe it was full of water and weeds and Nessie, but c'mon Black Jack, you're an event horse.  Get it together.  

The baby ditch according to Black Jack

I felt it coming.  That frustration.  Here we were, providing a lead for a green horse over the training level ditch only a moment ago, and now we were having anxiety about the tadpole ditch.  I've got my leg on, giving him some taps with the dressage whip that my trainer suggested I bring  (she's so smart) and he is backing up into my taps.  I growled a few times at him, told him he was being dumb, and then, a light bulb came on.

I started laughing.  No, not the maniacal laughter of an eventer who has finally fully lost her mind, but the kind of laughter you have when your dog is scared of the ceramic piggy bank that has been sitting on the shelf for five years.  I laughed at him for the silly pony he was being, and at myself for getting frustrated.  Here we were, having an awesome day, and I was going to let one obstacle get me down? Heck no!

As I started laughing, my frustration subsided, and I soon was able to look past his goofiness and start praising him for the tiniest things.  A few steps forward got a "good boy!" and a look down at the ditch (by him, not me!) was greeted with a "there you go!" and before you know it, we were over that ditch.  A few more times we jumped it both ways, and then we were sent to the trakehner where (you guessed it) we jumped it the first time without an issue.  

"Good boy!" 

On the ride home the next day, I got to thinking.  Just how often do we, as riders, punish ourselves? Over the littlest things really.  We see a picture of ourselves riding, and the first thing we do is criticize "oh my gosh my leg is awful" or "ew, those breeches make me look huge!" or "gross I look like a hunchback!" I could go on and on.

Now think back to the last time you gave yourself a pat on the back, a "good boy/girl!" or a "there you go!"  When is the last time you looked at a picture of yourself and picked out the positive first?  I would feel safe betting that you don't remember.

We have to find mistakes to make improvements, but we also have to be careful not to punish ourselves for those mistakes.  This next week, I challenge you to make a positive statement about yourself every day.  After every ride, I challenge you to say one thing you did well before talking about your mistakes.  Every time you look at a picture or video of yourself, pick out what you like first.  Try this for one week, and see what a difference this one small habit can make! 

Finding What Motivates You

Sometimes finding your motivation is not as easy as black and white.  For me, I know that I want to get more fit so that I can ride better, but finding a source of motivation that keeps me working out day to day can be frustrating.

About six months ago I joined a gym, and for the most part I've been doing pretty well, but lately I've hit a plateau, and I've found myself frustrated and thus avoiding the source of my frustration...the gym.

I recognized that I was avoiding my source of frustration and creating a circular issue of being frustrated with myself for not working out and getting in shape, so I wasn't getting in shape, so I was frustrated that I wasn't seeing results, which made me avoid the gym...whew, pass the potato chips would ya?!

A good friend of mine recently became a certified personal trainer, and she is also an equestrian, so I met up with her last week for my first ever personal training session.  We took my body measurements and my BMI, and completed a (tough) workout.  I realized that having the accountability of being measured and having a better system than the scale to see results would be a more tangible motivation for me.  So I've signed up with my friend for once a week sessions, and hopefully I'll be reporting good results soon!

Check out my friend Courtney's program by searching "Goss Equestrian Fitness" on Facebook! 

Oh yoga mat, bane of my existence!

"Aren't you supposed to be able to handle anything?"

In March of this year, I *finally* graduated with my Master's in Psychology with a specialization in Sport Psychology.  After suffering a shattered humerus (upper arm for you non-medical folks!) in 2011, I discovered this magical field of psychology made just for athletes, and I switched my focus from clinical to sports.  Along with my degree, I have studied under Daniel Stewart, learning how to tailor my sport psychology education specifically to equestrians!  I hope to follow in the footsteps of other great sport psychology consultants and psychologists, such as Coach Stewart, Sally Swift and Tonya Johnston, all who have had amazing impacts in the equestrian sport psychology world!

A lot of people make the assumption that because I'm a sport psychology consultant, I should have my stuff together AT ALL TIMES.  So this blog is about my journey both as a sport psychology consultant and as a rider.  My goal is to expose us sport psychology folks for who we really are: 

HUMAN!

Of course, if you get a good laugh out of it, and learn more about sport psychology, that would be great too!

So, let me take you back about two weekends ago, when my valiant steed and I were heading to Full Gallop Farm in Aiken, SC to compete at their schooling Horse Trial.  The night before, we trekked to Statesboro, GA to stay at a friend's farm, and our plan was to take her rig the next morning, because it was newer than my truck Old Red, and had more room in the cab.  We were on a time crunch the next morning, so I didn't want to put my entry fee in the hands of cranky Old Red!

So we're trucking along (pun intended) and all of a sudden, we hear a strange noise coming from the engine.  A few minutes later, and we look like this:

Yep, on the side of the highway at 7:00 AM in the middle of nowhere, on a Sunday.

I didn't panic.  Not at first.  Upon our very unskilled checking of the engine, we deduce that the serpentine belt has decided it didn't like where it was, and instead wanted to hang out underneath the truck.  So my friend whips out her phone and calls USAA, and I call Verizon Roadside Assistance on my phone.  Surely, roadside assistance can come throw a serpentine belt back on for us, right?

Wrong.

Just a huge FYI, if you are hauling a horse trailer, roadside assistance will not help you.  I will now be signing up for US Rider, to avoid going through this again!

About 30 minutes after sitting there, calling around to parts stores that weren't open and youtubing "how to MacGyver a serpentine belt" a kind soul pulled over, who happened to be a mechanic.

We're saved! My positive attitude has proven worthy once again!

"It's your tensioner, you aren't going to get that fixed today."

Our what?? Apparently, there is a thing that holds your serpentine belt on, and that broke. You can't buy it in stores, and you aren't going to get it fixed on a Sunday.

Okay, okay, it's okay, we left early enough, I can still make it if I can convince the organizers to move us to the end of the division.  

We get a hold of a friend who agrees to go fetch Old Red (the only other vehicle available with a gooseneck hitch) and she heads our way, ETA of one hour, with one hour and thirty minutes still ahead of us in the trip.

I call the organizer, and she moves me as far back as she can, which gives us exactly 3 hours and 15 minutes to get there.

So let's do some math - one hour wait time for truck, one hour and 30 minutes travel time, plus lets throw 15 minutes in for switching out vehicles.  If nothing else goes wrong, we will make it to Full Gallop with 30 minutes to warm up.  I decide to go ahead and spend the hour wait time getting dressed and grooming my horse so we can hop out and go.

I now look like this:

Notice the hair net.  Preparation is key people! 

I'm starting to freak out now, and I'm praying to the dressage gods to get my horse to cooperate in our limited warm-up time frame, which I know he will not be happy about.

Fast forward, we make it to FG with literally enough time to check in, tack up, and warm up for about 20 minutes before I trot down centerline.  At this point, I'm stressing out.  I had so many goals for this show, I had prepared, I wanted us to do well.  

Could you blame me if I wanted to have a meltdown?

I found myself looking at two doors (figuratively, I wasn't hallucinating yet) Door A was the door to a breakdown.  Who could blame me? Door B was the door to positive change.  I chose Door B.

My original goal for our dressage test was to score in the low 30s (dressage is not our strong suit).  Realizing that I was stressed, my horse was out of it from standing on a trailer forever, and we were rushing, I changed my goal.  "Just remember your test, and stay calm no matter what".  Goal achieved!

My goal for stadium and XC were originally to have a clean, rhythmic round, and to have it feel easy, as I was hoping this would be our show that determined our move up to the next level.  

Stadium fell apart.  We had a refusal, which never happens.  My first reaction was to get upset, but then I remembered that morning, and I forced myself to laugh it off.  This may seem like such a simple fix, but try laughing when you are so frustrated you can feel your face getting red.  I made myself laugh, and as I laughed, the tension left my body.  We still had six jumps to go, and I was going to make those the best six jumps of the round!

Cross country was just downright ugly.  I didn't have time to walk it, so I went out blind after memorizing the course map.  We've fought with jumping trakheners and ditches ever since my accident (which happened at a ditch) and Black Jack was having no part of it.  Luckily, it was a schooling show, and they allowed us to continue.  Again, I put the trakhener behind me, and we finished the rest of the course well, except for me losing a stirrup coming into the water.  I came through the finish line frustrated, but still patted my horse and said thank you for saving my butt in the water and not dumping me, as it was rather chilly out.

Now here is the secret to sport psychology - it's not always about being positive.  We are humans, and we have emotions that need to be expressed.  It's okay to be upset, and to cry.  The problem comes in when you let these things go on for much longer than they should.  So as I came through the finish line, feeling slightly defeated by the events of the day, I told myself "you have until you walk back to the trailer to feel sorry for yourself.  After that, you're going to move on and make a game plan".  So I took the walk of shame back, felt sorry for the day, and then when I reached the trailer, I patted my horse, told him we'd get it another day, and started getting ready to head home.

So the moral of the story folks:

- Goals are not set in concrete.  If you recognize the need to make a change on the fly, do it.  Don't set unrealistic expectations for yourself.

- It's okay to get upset, but set a limit.  There is no use in wallowing in failure.  Instead, make it a fuel to push you to work hard and to achieve your future goals.  

- Learn how to fix a tensioner on a serpentine belt :)