It was a crisp rainy October day.  The sound of my horse’s hooves clomped against the wet pavement as we walked up to the warm up arena.  It was my first time showing at the All American Quarter Horse Congress down in Columbus, Ohio.  Every single nerve in my body was amplified ten times the usual.  In a petrified way, I walked in the warm up area, and as soon as I smelled the Pepi Spray, excitement overwhelmed me!  A herd of a hundred huge horses paraded in the warm up arena, and they looked like a huge blob of sparkles. As I put my foot in the stirrup and pushed off while swinging my leg over to sit on Tex, a shock ran through my spine and electrified my whole body.  My suede black chaps and my red rhinestone vest completed my equestrian look. 

The reins between my hand and my spurs touching the sides of my horse kept me calm.  I always feel like I am the only person in the world when I am on my horse. The people in the stands chattered as the announcer announced, “Please enter at a jog and stay to the right.”  ‘It’s now or never,’ I told myself.  I smiled from ear to ear as we entered.  My ponytail bounced against my back as we jogged.  It was going well until I became trapped, which means that I was surrounded by horses.  I tried to escape, but by the time I realized it, it was too late, and it felt like I was stuck in a tiny cardboard box.  In that heartbreaking moment, the announcer said, “Everyone please lope.”  Scared to death, I asked my horse to lope, which is a slow, pretty gallop.  I “smooched,” making the kissing sound with my mouth.  Tex instantly threw his head up in the air. Tex doesn’t like other horses around him because it makes him a little claustrophobic.  Chaos erupted, and I knew from that moment on we wouldn’t make callbacks.  I was outraged.  I gritted my teeth.  My horse continued to lope and throw his head up in the air looking like a giraffe.  I just tried to ignore his tantrum and keep my head up.  “It’s okay. Just keep going,” I heard as I passed my trainers.  They made sure I didn’t become discouraged.  I tried to calm Tex down by scratching his neck.  It took a while, but he eventually calmed down.  We finished out the class extremely well.  Even though we had been trapped, I was extremely proud of my horse and myself.  I then realized, ‘I just finished my first class at the All American Quarter Horse Congress.’  I was tickled pink and felt like for the first time I could fly.

Exiting the arena, I saw my parents and the rest of the people from my barn as they all waited for me.  They all reassured me by saying, “You recovered really well, and you should be extremely proud.”  I dismounted and give my horse the biggest hug anyone could ever imagine.  “You coming?” they asked. 

“No, I think I’m going to take the long way back to the barn,” I replied. 

“Okay, see you back there,” my trainer said.  I was extremely appreciative of my horse.  I actually talked to him on the way back and told him, “I wouldn’t be where I am without you.”  He is like a human, so I can easily talk to him. 

After I returned to the barn, everyone gave me a hug, and my dad was crying.  He was so extremely happy with the accomplishments I have achieved in the past four years.  We all sat down and had dinner together.  That day I learned that even if there are bumps along the way I can’t give up.  Even when I am aggravated and ticked off, I have to push through the anger and frustration and show people that if I get knocked down I can easily get back up.