Make it back home by Monday

My time in Germany is coming to a close, next Sunday I pack my bags and I catch a flight early Monday morning back to the states to begin my season there with my girls. It's crazy to think my first show is May, and my season's calendar is looking booked with shows and clinics. 

It's strange to imagine that the time has passed that quickly but in the end, it was very useful. I have few regrets here, I know I'll return next fall/winter before migrating to Florida. 

I'm sad but excited to go, the place has given me more perspective and tools about riding, teaching, selling and the business that I can't wait to incorporate into my own herd when I get home. But at the same time, I don't want to leave. The place is a second home. So, in a way, I, like everyone else who does this has a heart on each continent. 

It's also been busy here, the last two or three weeks have been nothing but sales calls. We sold five horses in two weeks, internationally, and with a few more pending as this week opened up with queries on two of the top young horses in the barn. I'm also excited to announce my partnership with my German breeders who starting in Fall 2015 will begin pushing horses to the states for me to sell into the American market. The first one being the full brother to one of my favorites, Fairyland, who's lovely personality and raw gaits look like a good match for America. 

The funny thing is I'm typically not a German horse fan. My exposure has been to mostly the U.S. with the Hanovarian and Oldenburg books, and my herd is primarily KWPN but there's good blood, a good program, and stellar movement here, so, quality is quality no matter how you register it. 

All alone she moves

One of the toughest things about what I do is being 4,000 miles away and ahead five hours.

By the time I'm going to bed, I'm getting updates from the U.S. and the rest of the world. Majority of the time it's great, it's students who are checking in or my barns giving me updates or my other calling me and asking me how my day went.

It's a voyeur lifestyle being able to look, but not actively participate in something very far away. My news is sometimes second hand. It also screws with you just a little bit.

Homesickness is a bi-product of the job. It's what everyone, regardless of industry, faces at some level when their ambition takes them beyond the familiar recesses of their current life to achieve something. 

I love traveling, and I've done it actively since I was 14. I'm used to going away for extended periods and miles. I'm used to long horse show weekends and training trips. I've learned to be lonely but at the same time, I'm lucky that 21st century technology and social media has allowed me to keep abreast without committing to hours on the phone. Plus being busy all day, everyday, leaves little room to think much about anything else but what's in front of me. 

So, by the end of the day, only three primary emotions really exist with me: exhaustion, hunger and because I'm honest, a twinge of jealousy. 

I'm not really a jealous person. But like what most people experience as they go through expansion, you go on it alone and you question everything. Everything from: did I that make that corner correctly to did I just tell my boss that stallion is a little schnitzel?

 You also ask the question why a lot. Why did I just leave my country to do this? Why did I leave steady income behind? Why do I have heartburn from that currywurst? The list goes on and on as you muddle through exhaustion and the other emotions du jour. 

You also romanticize your lifestyle at home (bed, TV, barn) and become somewhat jealous as friends, students, other pro's, even people you've barely met post photos and statuses belying their successes, their general satisfaction about their life or goings on or even the commiseration of just how utterly crappy the weather is. 

So while I can't commiserate on the weather (it's been seriously lovely), and I've become jealous at the early season successes of some while I'm here; I also find myself knowing a few things. 

First, that while ribbons and riding time is nice, I'm also here because for me. I have to be uncomfortable to progress. I have to make my mistakes and be put into situations where I know I'll make them. It's given me a sense of purpose to do more things and be a little hungry. 

And secondly, that Europe is the sport and standard of which we compete with within the discipline. Even though I'm not in Florida (the nearest moral equivalent) or at awards banquets collecting trophies, I know that what I'm doing here is having an impact on my career and business and I have to do it now. My mom always said, the circuit will be there when you return, and she's right. I'm putting together my schedule for teaching, showing and hosting and it seems like its going to be an active year. Coupled with a new venture starting in Europe, I'm starting to put the foot to the floor and go hard for the next six years. 

I genuinely love it here, I'm finding myself getting excited about going to the barn, but what I'm doing and seeing. I'm equally eager to put things in motion when I get back. So while I feel left behind, I know in the end I'm uncomfortably ahead. 

Into paradise without day and night

The last few weeks have been a large blur of activity. Between working six to ten horses per day at various stages of training and development, Monday through Saturday, and various other things (stallion show, verband inspection, sales calls) that have been happening it makes for long, uncomplicated days of working. 

My day isn't too much to write about, it's get up, drink coffee, walk to the barn, start work, lunch, more coffee, work some more and then go home around 5pm to catch up on the U.S. news, catch up with my owners, horses, clients and other people six hours behind me. Between four of us we work close to 30 horses. 

All the horses are progressing pleasantly. I still have my favorites and there are a few new ones added as well. For the most part I work with the kids, my youngest are rising three this year and my oldest is pushing five, but the hall has everything from weanlings to some older school horses. 

The job, in short has provided a great window of young horses and breeding that's not available stateside. After you see six or seven of a particular sire or dam, you begin to understand what they produce and how to channel that energy and talent. You see them go in different situations, under different riders and methods. You also develop tastes and preferences alongside an eye of what to look for in each growth stage and how it relates to the pedigree. 

The system here in Germany has a somewhat familiar feeling. The thoroughbred industry has a similar mentality and most of the dressage in the states is based of the German system. It's traditional. 

How young horses are reared is very traditional. They're brought in from the field when they're two to begin work. They, like the thoroughbred industry, are relatively unhandled until that time and have lived in groups sorted by age and sex. They start in the traditional snaffle and roller with side reins, but they go on a modern surface and are conditioned in the aquatred. They're also exposed to fun things like umbrellas, tarps, plastic and things that they'll encounter over their careers. Even sales runs more towards traditional. With very little advertising and mostly word of mouth. The quality is that good. 

At home, my horses are fairing well in the bad weather. Sinari is looking a tad less rotund and Flair and Haiku are on as much ride time as the weather allows. Flair, being from Alberta, is at home in the weather; Haiku not so much. In either way I miss them, and while I have many here to distract me and keep me busy there's nothing like having your own. 

Bread and circuses

It's been about a week since I touched down back in Europe and I haven't stopped moving since. 

To say that I like it here is an understatement. It's one of the best things I've done for myself and my career to date. I miss my horses, cats and my significant other, but I feel at home here. It's a step forward in many places, and I've learned a lot even in a short time. 

The barn is lovely as it is modern with a candyland of horses to choose be around. 

I have my usual set of six, plus a few others that I get to rotate through if there's enough time. I get to coach a little, and in return I'm coached. The energy is positive, friendly but professional. We have a job to do, and we need to do it. All I work with is the young horses, I wanted this specifically for my own program since I've begun to reach into that market more and more. My oldest is five, with the youngest being two. My two favorites are the Ampere and sarkozy followed by the Don Index. They couldn't be more different. 

 I'm regretting that I just am doing three months. There's so much here to see and do. 

It's also incredibly satisfying to be around people with the same goals and mentality about the business. Horses are practical here, there's no shying away from the discussion of commission or even day-to-day issues. 

The barn is the same here and abroad, horses basic needs do not change from one country to the next. But the country, like every place,has its own cycle, its own way and pride for doing things. This is not Holland, the mentality is more traditional and in my opinion, much more correct. You see it in how the horses are treated and worked. While they are commodities, they are loved and treated as well as possible. Pedigrees run not only through equine generations but family generations, no matter where you turn you find a story or someone who stood or owned the horse that you've read about. 

If there's one benefit of being illiterate, is you listen and watch more than you would if you know the language. My German is pigeon at best with most phrases and sentences surrounding the barn and it's needs. My teacher is all of five, he's persistent despite my ineptitude. But immersion does wonderful thing for learning languages and making friends, and to be honest, kindness is universal. 

As the world turns at home, Flair is shipping down. Poor timing on my end but better late than never. 

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

I go to yoga a few times per week.

We're not talking about the gentle yoga either, the type where you spent 20 minutes meditating and reflecting on life, then maybe get to a downward dog or twist while sipping tea du jour. 

I go to the Ashtanga type. A quick series flow that frowns on props in addition to making you groan for about an hour and makes you question your sanity of: 'why did I sign up for this torture?', and 'why can't I bend like that girl on the next mat'?

I started going last year at the suggestion of a client who actively goes herself (she's actually my accountabilabuddy for this). The teacher, probably upon seeing my hand-me-down mat from my mother, the barn shoes which I left outside, plus the non-lulu clothing with lumpy body with tight hips/shoulders in my first Ashtanga class probably thought I was a nutter who would quit after three sessions. 

I struggled through the primary series. I couldn't hold positions, I was out of alignment, couldn't get into peak poses, I needed blocks, bolsters, straps, mats, and a crane and/or forklift to keep it together for the first three months.

When I told the teacher what I do (I ride horses), alongside my goals (large scale stuff), she probably thought I was really off my rocker. 

It was my first time, in a long time, being a beginner, and being viewed as one- at anything. It sucked.   But unlike equestrian disciplines, there was no judging. Only understanding that you are going through a process and we all started somewhere. 

I survived that first class, and kept on coming back. I still leave my shoes outside and try to keep the lessons I learn on my mat in perspective as I teach and train. 

The surprising thing, among many things, I learned from yoga is the idea of deserving.

The idea that you deserve to be a better you is a very fleshed-out concept within the studio.

The idea of deserving something to me was not only taboo, but borderline selfish, rude and egotistical. Especially after being raised with the thought of give to others first, then yourself.  It was like getting the first slice of cake at a party or opening the door for someone else and getting to walk through it first. Deserving something was an earned luxury. It simply just didn't happen, and not to anyone under the age of 30.

Preparing to leave for three months, there's been a lot of fanfare surrounding the departure. Between teaching the last lessons, the breakfast/brunch/lunch/dinners, trying to get a calendar organized for when I get back, trying to keep healthy in sub zero temps, preparing and seeing horses off (then checking in when I can), there's the questions.

Everything from: What are you doing over there? to Is this a buying trip, are you going to buy something? to Why you?, Why are you even going? Can't you make your own opportunities here?, Why didn't [insert other professional's name] get this opportunity?, How did you get the connections to go? and my personal favorite: What does your significant other think about this?.

Aside from the obvious answers of no it's not an active buying trip, and frankly since we've gone through suffrage my other's opinion has very little bearing on my career path (he actually wanted to visit, but couldn't this time around).

But other questions are more complicated to respond to.

I can't answer why one person gets an opportunity or how each individual's connections develop on a broader scale. I'm sure there's a university study for that somewhere. However, what I can say, and have said, is that I've put in the equity to be able to do this, and while I don't know where or how I'll end up, I deserve the opportunity to expand.

Some people take it well, some people take it as an affront that I'm stepping out of their perception, or progressing past the point of who they are.

The point is this, we all deserve things, sometimes, you just have to have gumption enough to take them. 

Change is gonna come

A few years ago, while I was still in corporate I sat down with a friend over a few drinks. As we chatted away they had asked me what I wanted to do, obviously knowing I was, despite good paycheck and vacation days, unhappy with my then-present situation. I don't remember much about the conversation, but it involved a lot of mention about changing.

2014 was one of those seasons that involved a steep learning curve, it was my first year as a professional, it was my first year out of the traditional corporate structure, it also involved in a lot of letting go, and finding out what needs to be done for the future. In short, it involved change.

Change is funny that way, you don't see it coming but, it's always happening. I really don't think I would be pursuing what I'm pursuing if this year had not happened the way it happened. I'd still be planning Florida with the pony and Haiku, I'd still be involved with Reba. Haiku and Flair I don't know if they would be even in the picture. Germany would be a non-entity. Whether you call it luck, karma or anything else, I do feel that I'm doing what I've meant to be doing; and despite all the upheavals over the past 12 months, I'm alright with things.

Part of that is very much due to the team, sponsors and ownership behind the horses. Pennfields, Rood and Riddle (Dr. Laurie Metcalfe and Dr. Ashley Embly), SunShine Meadows, A&G Investments, CORE Therapies, Rosanna and Carey Gage, Noble Spirit Stables, Equissentials Breeches, and many others who coaxed, cajoled, and flagged waved along the way.

Truth is, I've only really accomplished two goals for 2014. Which for who I am, is really frustrating. There was so much I wanted to do this year.  But in honesty, this year reached more towards the overall goals versus the month-to-month, year-to-year things. I'm looking forward to 2015, and the string of horses I have.

2014 Goals:
1. Start Gold Medal. Be schooling the majority of GP.
No. But before Sinari's semi-retirement, we were schooling all the canter tour of the GP, minus 15 ones (she batted off 9). My plans for the USDF Gold are temporarily shelved for a variety of reasons. First being my FEI horse was decidedly not going to physically hold up, and secondly, after seeing a few of my professionals pursue, and received their's with barely-pushing 60 percent (with the ambition that they will be successful at CDI level with current mounts), it gave me new perspective on what kind of quality I want to be known in addition and the fairness aspect of pushing a horse that far. It's still on the goal list, but it's going to be more about the right time, right place.  

2. Have national rankings on each horse. End up in the year end awards for All Breeds and at minimum be qualified for regionals.
No. With Sinari out, and Danzador experiencing intermittent, bad-timing cellulitis and Flair being barefoot and pregnant, all competitive goals were not met. By the time Haiku came onto the scene, the year was over. 

3. Increase fitness (human and horse).
Achieved. I go to yoga two to three days a week between riding horses. I plan on adding more cardio in 2015, but yoga has given me a lot of strength and body awareness in the tack. Only downside of it is that I have to shove myself to the studio, which isn't as habitual as going to the barn. Plus some bonus items that allowed me to work through some mental garbage. All my horses were fitter (well, Sinari got fatter, Flair became more pregnant-y). Even Haiku is pretty fit as a two year old, Danzador, up until he was sold could do a solid trot set and canter work. 

4. Expand clients, horses in training, and investments that are capable, at minimum of shining on the national stage, also continue to remain fiscally solvent.
Achieved. I expanded my clients and investors. Fiscally speaking, it ended as a good year. I had a few horses in training earlier this year, but they and their ownership wasn't the quality I was wanting to represent so they were sent home. I picked up regular lessons, in addition to some work for a few eventers that need help with their dressage. I also received opportunities to go abroad and work, and began thinking about the long-term quality I want to be sustaining and what stage I want to campaign on. 

2015 Goals:

1. Expand clients, horses in training and investments that are capable, at minimum, of shining on the national stage and continue to be fiscally solvent. 

2. Continue to increase fitness (human and horse).

3. Pursue the young horse track. Develop horses for the USEF Young Horse Championships alongside the USDF Breeders Championships with the aim of looking toward Verden. 

4. Dedicate personal educational opportunities once a quarter with my coaches (in a non-clinic capacity) to keep developing. 

Everywhere I Go

First, thank you all for the well-wishes and support. After the last post, the phone, Facebook and my email filled up really quick with support and good tidings for the upcoming trip. A few close readers even sent some wool knit products as a surprise, which is beyond generous.

All of this was actually rather unexpected.

I've always kind of done my own thing. Notoriously, sometimes stubbornly and stupidly have gone my own way. I don't expect support because I was raised taught you do what you feel is right, and often times, it means going against what is popular or what other people feel you should do. The support comes at a time when I'm transitioning from the image of being the amateur / organizer to a professional rider. That one image has dominated the conversation all year, and breaking with it while still keeping parts of that identity, such as the organizer part, is tough. So when people actually flag wave and support, it's a very pleasant surprise.

Right now, there's a lot of holiday bustle at the barn and trying to finish up the last part of the year. Haiku is working three days a week, and going swimmingly. She's doing very well for herself and maturing quickly into lovely dressage horse. She is talented, and is very reflective of her pedigree gait-wise. When she gets more strength and maturity she's going to be much like Gal's Undercover, not uber flashy, but very much a power horse.

Sinari has been back out walking and keeping company with Haiku when she hacks out. Recovery is slow, as are all things when it comes with being older and tendons. At this point we put the idea of lease on hold until she's fitter. She's the same as ever, chipper, but five laps around the arena and she's pretty winded. I can only guess what her resolution is going to be in the New Year.

Flair's drop date has been set, she will be here shortly after the new year. I wish we could have shipped sooner as I would have liked to had more time with her before leaving, but there will be plenty of time after I get back to continue the relationship.

The big news is that Danzador has been sold, but will remain close to home (actually, same stall, same facility) as the other half of the ownership has obtained my share and now owns him outright. He truly is a lovely amateur's horse and should be happy being spoiled.

Cleaning has also being going full throttle for my departure.

I dumped my tack trunk out and sorted through all the odds and ends. Gone are the old, outdated, half full bottles of God-know's-what, evicted is the last of the summer laundry, gathered items in for repair (those five muzzles will be reinforced...), halters that were too destroyed were tossed, those that looked salvageable went in, took home the quarter sheets, the fleece and knits for washing, monogramming to go with the girls. Even the feed bins were wiped, labeled and sterilized.

In are the fresh supplies for the girls for the three or four months I'll be away.

Shampoos, soaps, liniments, a 90 plus day supply of feed and supplements, fresh supplies of medications, clean pads, rags, standing wraps and fresh sponges that aren't harboring strange new life; topped off spray bottles,  and put back clean brushes. Everything has been Sharpie'd, taped off, tagged or monogrammed so none of it would be lost or "confused" with other items.

There's still a few more things to purchase. Like bungee cords, a wash garment bag, a new trash bin for a separate type of feed, a few locks, and maybe if they're on sale- box fans.

Things that aren't going with the mares, or won't be used, will go home.

Thankfully, the human side looks easier to pack, as all the laundry from the prior trip was stuffed into the laundry basket as soon as I got home. But even then there are bits and bobs everywhere. Taking a chapter from my running friends, I went to the Under Armor outlet to get some base layers. Also, thankfully SmartPak was having a sale and I found a pair of nice schooling gloves and liners so I don't experience bleeding fingers again (or being cold).

My leave date has been also appointed as well, I'm officially out January 12th, with the Haiku leaving on the 31st. Sinari will be staying field boarded through winter.

Which makes planning a show season a little tricky and with the focus on the USDF BC's it means hauling, and with one, maybe two qualifiers around Kentucky and Ohio, it means also making sure the truck and trailer are in running order when I come back.

I also sat down with my students and began developing their plans for the 2015 calendar. One part of me wants to stay and push their development more over winter, the other part of me goes, I can't develop them unless I come back more developed. It's a tricky Catch 22.