I am stressed. I’m not sure why. My parents and trainer said I would be fine. I practiced harder than most and sweat harder too. My OCD has been out of control lately, if there was a stain on it, it had to be cleared. If there was dirt on it, it had to be scrubbed so clean you could eat off of it. Spending hours outside cleaning my dark oiled saddles had been a pain, but paid off with shiny, dirt free and almost new looking english and western saddles. The jeans and breeches for my show outfit, freshly cleaned and bagged. I was ready but nervous, like I could explode any minute.

“CIRCUS!” I screamed my patience wearing thin, “Stop! Get off!”

Circus, my horse, had just finished spraying me with ice cold water from the hose and was now stepping on my foot, my boot not thick enough to protect me from her weight. The pain was horrid, my toe felt like it would break any minute.

Then just to my luck, she swung her head around and bit my lower back. as I accidently pressed her pressure point when she stepped on my toe.

“Thats it!” I said yelling as I pushed against her with all my might.

Rosie, the other horse, was pacing in the pen. She screamed in a high pitched neigh to Circus. Who echoed back her scream. Her piercing scream was enough for me, in complete frustration I sat on the side of the rusty trailer.

The wetness rolled down my cheek, while I struggle to dry my own pathetic eyes. Why can’t I just grow up! I thought frustratedly. I got up from the side of the trailer and made my way over to the hose and picked it up. I finished washing Circus, meaning I got a bath and she got a light sprinkle with a side of soap. I scraped off as much water as I could from her coat. My friend and I put the two naughty horses in the pasture praying they wouldn’t roll.
****

“Are you excited?” my mother asked as I scarfed down the last of my dinner.

“Yes and no, I’m nervous cause it’s my first ever real show, not just the show me’s and fuzzy shows, you know?” I blurted out.
“Yeah, I understand, here give me your dish.”
Handing my mother the dish I made my way downstairs and got ready for bed. I slipped into the covers and pulled them up to my chin. Glancing at the alarm clock, it read 9:00pm. Tomorrow was the day I’ve been dreading for weeks now, I didn’t fully think I was ready quite yet. I drifted off to sleep minutes later.

“Wake up.” I heard quietly, not being able to make out who said it. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them back down and threw my head into the pillow.

“Turn the light off!” I yelled.

I felt a tug on my arm and the covers lifted off of me. Ugh! I thought in my head.

“You’re going to be late, it’s already 5:30,” mom informed.

I shot up out of my bed and got dressed in my new jeans, and sweatshirt. Even though it was summer it was still cold at 5 in the morning. I brushed my teeth with my spearmint flavored toothpaste and took time with my makeup for the show. I applied blush and added some eyeshadow, most of the rich circuit girls wore heavy makeup, so I had to step up my game just a touch more with some mascara.

Since my mom would take us out to eat breakfast, I made the tough decision not to eat any Rice Krispies or Frosted Flakes. I grabbed my keys to the quad and shoved them in the keyhole, and examined the body of the monstrous quad. The wheels were caked with mud as well as the rest of it. My handle bars were slimy and the foot brake and shift as well and it was hard to keep my boots on. I fastened my helmet and rode back down to the barn. It was a rush. My friend and I were bustling around trying to get everything done by 6:00.

I opened up the hay barn and was immediately greeted with the musky smell of first cutting. I grabbed a bale and limped back to the truck and hauled it into the bed. I made sure the grain was set and all of my tack was still in the correct spot, and trudged back to the horse pen. I grabbed my halter and lead rope and called my horse with a sharp whistle. Her ears perked and she lifted her head and made her way over to me. She had dirt all over the belly and neck, her face marking and leg sock were not longer white but and disgusting swamp-like brown. I slipped the halter over her head and clasped the hook and led her out to the awaiting trailer. I held the apple flavored treats and walked her up the ramp, only to be pulled back out by my stubborn horse.

“Do you mind snapping the whip behind us?” I asked my friend.

She agreed and we tried again. Circus got in easily and went straight for the grain, pushing me toward the escape door on the side of the trailer. I opened the door quickly and climbed out. I went back down to the back of the trailer and lifted the ramp, which felt like 100 pounds in the sleepy and foggy morning. After sealing up the trailer I hopped into the truck.

“All set?” my mother asked.

“Yup!” my friend and I replied.

The truck rotated its tires and we launched forward.

Once we arrived at the location we started to unpack. I unloaded my horse and pulled my saddle out, admiring how the leather looked smooth and clean, like it was unused and sealed in a container for years. The sliver on my western saddle shined as bright as the sun on a splintering hot day. My first class was english pleasure so I pulled out everything that I needed and sat it on the table near me.

“Go grab a doughnut real quick. Then go practice in the arena.” my mom rushed.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a second and will you help me put my number on my jacket?” I agreed.

I brushed Circus quickly and carefully, sure to get her sock white and bright again. Then, planted the saddle pad on top of Circus’ back, the fuzziness feeling smooth on my rough, over worked hands. I made sure it was even on each side, then followed up with the saddle. Circus is always antsy when we put her saddle on. Therefore, I had quite some trouble getting the girth into my grasp from the other side of her belly.

Running over to the food table, while I left Circus tied up, I grabbed the powdered doughnut, it was my favorite. I quickly ate my powdered doughnut the powder getting on my face and clothes and resumed getting ready. First, I started getting dressed, I threw on my white undershirt and struggled getting my tight breeches on. I strapped my brand new dickie on and topped it off with my heavy jacket. Looking impressive in the full size mirror, I decided I did a nice job and unlocked the dressing room door and stepped outside.

I grabbed Circus’ bridle and brought the headpiece up toward her ears and jammed my thumb in between her gums in the back of her mouth to get her to open her mouth. Once she gave in I slipped the bit into her mouth and pulled the headpiece over her ears and onto her poll. I zipped up my tall boots and snapped the buttons at the top. Then, I ran over to my mom and she quickly pinned my number to the back of my jacket. I thanked her and made my way over to my horse and swiftly hopped onto the saddle. We jogged over to the practice ring and silently thanked God that it was empty. A nice man opened the entrance gate so I could get in.

“Thank you!” I thanked. He nodded acknowledgingly.

I entered the ring and brought Circus up to a trot and made sure I posted on the right lead. I wiggled my fingers to make her put her head down into a headset and drove her with my heels to make her slowly canter. After a little while I headed back to get the dust off my shoes for my first class.

“Alright I’m done with practice!” I told everyone when I got back.

My coach and two other girls went out to go practice. My coach has a problem with me, I’m not sure what exactly but she doesn’t go and help me when I practice, she goes with one girl specifically and doesn’t bother to help me. It all started last year at the 2012 equestrian show, when she didn’t help me get tacked up and practice, back then I didn’t know what to do at all so I was a little disappointed when she didn’t help. But now, this year, I know what I am doing and I don’t need much help, at the same time I felt a little angry that she ignored me again this year, even after my mother set her straight. What is her problem with me? I thought as she came into my view. She favored that other girl, just like she was her only child, she gave saddles to her, gave her lessons, and didn’t even bother to help me one bit. I ignored the thought about the coach bubbling in my head and walked straight to the dressing room and grabbed the baby wipes and went and to scrape and scrub off the dirt and sand stuck to my tall boots.

“Class 4: English Pleasure will be starting in 5-10 minutes,” the intercom read. My heart started to pound and my palms got so sweaty I couldn’t hold the boot in my hand. My knees started shaking. For the first time that day I felt I couldn’t do it, like I haven’t progressed as well as I thought, and I wouldn’t ever be like those snotty rich girls who get whatever they see and want with their cold, greedy eyes.

“C’mon hurry!” my friend Marissa yelled over to me, she was the only one who came to support me at my shows.

“I’m coming!” I returned.

I hiked myself up into the saddle and trotted over to the arena entrance. I can’t do it, I can’t do this! I repeated over and over to myself.

“You’ve got this, stay on the rail and keep your head up and heels down,” my mother reassured.

“Thanks,” I managed to push out.

Here we go! I thought not-so-enthusiastically. My head was dizzy and my smile shaking, butterflies were in my stomach. I desperately tried to shake the feeling of not being able to do this out of my head. Thump, thump, thump. My focus was on my fast beating heart, that started to go into overload. I took in my surroundings and competitors. Yup their rich. I thought to myself sadly, rich girls always do good in the shows, it’s probably the seven year training camp they send their horses to. The gatekeepers ushered me into the large sandy ring and shut the gate behind the last contestant. I walked around the ring careful to ride the rail and made sure my back was so straight it hurt, and my smile was so big my gums ached, and that my heels were down so far they were numb. Make it look easy. My trainers voice echoed in my head. I studied the people competing against me and counted at least 20. This is a big flat! Right then I knew I didn’t have much of a chance with all these girls, but I’ll try.

“Trot please, trot,” the judge announced over the speakers.

I lightly squeezed my heels into Circus’ sides and she lurched forward into a nice smooth trot and started posting. Up down, up down. Elbows bent, chin up, heels down. Look where you’re going and keep that smile. I struggled to keep it all in my head.

“Walk please, walk,” the speakers said again.

I pulled back on the reins ever so slightly and sat into the saddle. My horse slowed to a walk. One minute had passed of just us walking and already I’ve gotten cut off three times and almost kicked.

“Reverse and trot please, reverse and trot,” I tugged to the left rein and turned in a 1800 circle then began to trot.

“Halt then back four steps please, halt and back four steps,” I slowed Circus down to a stop. I was sweating in my jacket, as we equestrians call it; a personal sauna. Then, we backed up, at the last step she decided to stop, and right as the judge was looking straight at me. I kept my smile plastered on my face and gave the reins a few more pulls. She moved backward one last step and I blew out the breath I didn’t know I was holding and scratched her with a finger to let her know she did as I asked. The judge motioned us out of the ring.

*****
“Good job! My parents cheered as I got to our ‘camp’.
“Thanks!” I asked.
“Come here and give me a hug,” Marissa came up to me and gave me a hug, even though I was still on top of my horse.
I was congratulated more and I headed to untack and get ready for western and barrel racing. Circus looked at me exhausted and I gave her a great big hug for a thank-you-for-being-the-best. I had finished another class and waited to hear the results for my first class. Munching on my chips and slurping down my Coke I had my ears ready for the results.

“Attention,” the intercom spoke.

I danced in my seat, excited and nervous for what was to come. The announcer read through a couple of names in order from eight to one and once he hit place number three I knew I wouldn’t place. There was no way I could have gotten that far. My eyes got droopy and my smile faded.
“In second place-” just forget it, why am I even listening? Then I heard our name.
I jumped out of my seat and did my hurray dance. Everyone around me cheered with me. People gave us strange looks for being so loud. I was soon swarmed with everybody. My friends, family, and team mates.

“Go grab your ribbon!” my dad hugged me from behind, “I’m so proud of you!”

I ran down to the entry booth and grabbed my red, second place ribbon, feeling the pride in my chest was irreplaceable. I headed back up the dry dirt path to camp only to be run into my coach. Yay… I couldn’t help but think.

“Congrats, good job,” my coach came up to me. Realizing that was the nicest thing she had said to me ever, it warmed me. I quickly said my thanks and smiled.

I learned it wasn’t easy to get first and I’m glad I had actually placed. This was what I loved and I shouldn’t let just some stress get in my way. I realized that no matter how hard it became or how hurtful it was, I would never give up on this sport. I belonged in the saddle on top of my stubborn horse and showing in a ring. I was glad I had tried so hard, it paid off. That day was one of the best in my life. Nobody is perfect, and Circus and I are far from it, but that is the way I like it and wouldn’t trade the world for it. That day it came to me, how much everything meant to me. I was glad for all my beaten up saddles because it meant that money didn’t buy success. I was glad for my off the track, skinny, stubborn, need-a-ton-of-work thoroughbred because it meant I had a companion. I wouldn’t trade the anything for all that I had.