HotToTrot
Well-Known Member
Some vaguely amusing things happened, there was some boob, there were some nappy situations, my dad turned up with a hacksaw and chopped some chunks of metal off my trailer, we did the DR, got 37 and then we went in to showjump.
The track looked (as you'd expect) smaller than the CIC* and IN I'd done on my last two outings. We popped round with a nice rhythm and we were going clear. Vito was a bit wiggly and falling out, but it was generally fine. Then we got to the last fence. In three of my last four events, I'd incurred four faults at the last fence, so I'd decided to have a think about the last half of the course. Was he getting too onward bound? Did he need more rebalancing? Was I being complacent over the last?
Must not have the last fence, must not have the last fence. I panicked. What if we had the last fence? Must go clear. Must go clear. So I chased. I chased and chased and then I popped down to the Imperial War Museum. I asked to borrow a cannon from the battle of Waterloo. I stuck Vito in and fired him at the fence. I don't think he even bothered to take off. We smashed through the fence and I fell off, Vito disappearing into the distance.
Once I'd ascertained that I had crossed the finish line whilst still on the horse, I left the ring, feeling despondent that I'd been so so stupid and ridden him so badly. The tannoy announced that I was eliminated for failing to leave the arena mounted. Vito had been caught by a kind spectator, so I handed him to dad and we checked him over. I felt dreadful, so deflated and so sorry for my horse, but I went off to ask the sec whether we cld go XC, assuming, as it was a technical elimination for leaving the ring unmounted, that asking was just a formality. "No," she said. "No?" I echoed, shocked. "It's at my discretion," she replied. "As you fell, I have to consider the safety aspect." My heart sank further and I turned to go. Then the "auto-lawyer" function kicked in. "But....." I began, as I challenged this reasoning. We had a chat and I was allowed to run XC. But did I want to? Shd I save him for later in the week? Go out showjumping, to allay the SJ demons?
I rang my husband. "Go XC," he said immediately. "Take it steady, have a nice round and get the experience." So we went, mootled round slowly, took the direct routes and came home clear.
I've been trying hard not do stupid things when I'm showjumping, but today I had a complete regression about that last fence. I feel pretty rotten for putting my bold, honest horse in that situation.
The track looked (as you'd expect) smaller than the CIC* and IN I'd done on my last two outings. We popped round with a nice rhythm and we were going clear. Vito was a bit wiggly and falling out, but it was generally fine. Then we got to the last fence. In three of my last four events, I'd incurred four faults at the last fence, so I'd decided to have a think about the last half of the course. Was he getting too onward bound? Did he need more rebalancing? Was I being complacent over the last?
Must not have the last fence, must not have the last fence. I panicked. What if we had the last fence? Must go clear. Must go clear. So I chased. I chased and chased and then I popped down to the Imperial War Museum. I asked to borrow a cannon from the battle of Waterloo. I stuck Vito in and fired him at the fence. I don't think he even bothered to take off. We smashed through the fence and I fell off, Vito disappearing into the distance.
Once I'd ascertained that I had crossed the finish line whilst still on the horse, I left the ring, feeling despondent that I'd been so so stupid and ridden him so badly. The tannoy announced that I was eliminated for failing to leave the arena mounted. Vito had been caught by a kind spectator, so I handed him to dad and we checked him over. I felt dreadful, so deflated and so sorry for my horse, but I went off to ask the sec whether we cld go XC, assuming, as it was a technical elimination for leaving the ring unmounted, that asking was just a formality. "No," she said. "No?" I echoed, shocked. "It's at my discretion," she replied. "As you fell, I have to consider the safety aspect." My heart sank further and I turned to go. Then the "auto-lawyer" function kicked in. "But....." I began, as I challenged this reasoning. We had a chat and I was allowed to run XC. But did I want to? Shd I save him for later in the week? Go out showjumping, to allay the SJ demons?
I rang my husband. "Go XC," he said immediately. "Take it steady, have a nice round and get the experience." So we went, mootled round slowly, took the direct routes and came home clear.
I've been trying hard not do stupid things when I'm showjumping, but today I had a complete regression about that last fence. I feel pretty rotten for putting my bold, honest horse in that situation.