Defying Long Shot Odds

Persevere along an uphill climb, on a slow downhill descent, through vast valleys, through dry, hot, windy deserts, the splashy ocean surf and grassy meadows. Defy long shot odds when dreaming! Dream big! This mantra has worked for me. It all began with horses. Horses first galloped into my life when I watched western movies with my Dad. Mom noticed my eyes sparkle when I talked about horses.

Conversely, she held me when I cried about being the last pick for softball, tennis or soccer due to my petite stature and lack of skills. Not only had other kids locked-in from a young age, but we moved a lot, almost annually, until I began high school. My confidence as an athlete shattered, but books and school work became a source of solace for me. No regrets. I graduated with honors from high school and a Big 12 University.

At any rate, as years passed, working Mom and traveling Dad struggled to plug-into the pursuits of their kids. In high school before I could drive, Mom sneaked me to a nearby stable for riding lessons. Dad objected. Money – not plentiful with four kids, including a stepbrother and stepsister, on the payroll. She worked outside the home. We didn’t live in a castle. And I baby sat for extra cash and later worked as a clerk at Walgreen’s in high school. Other jobs included: cleaning dog runs and waitressing at Denny’s.

Yet, Mom helped me with lessons, my first pair of riding boots, a show coat and my first horse purchase. She behaved like a saint, supporting the interests of the other kids also. At any rate, running my race in a horsey world kept me focused. Boys, drugs and hanging out at the mall couldn’t compare to time spent with horses. As the saying goes, “Get your daughter a pony before she brings home a jackass.” All credit to Mom for embracing that concept.

Decades later, a family member victimized my elderly vulnerable mother. She tragically unexpectedly passed. Once again, riding becomes all-important. Riding has been a powerful way to deal with grief over Mom’s sudden passing. Actually, riding has become critical to my outlook on life. After all, it involves staying in the moment during an otherworldly experience. It also provides a reason to be grateful. Grateful to own a horse, for riding lessons, a saddle, riding boots and a show coat. Mom’s decision to add horses to my life resonates with me today. In fact, every time, I sit on my horse I think about how proud she’d be that she gave me a huge leg-up in life.

It has made me the best version of myself that I can possibly be – disciplined, focused, resilient, mindful, confident, hard-working, competitive,  poised and dedicated. I credit my journey with horses for the daring plan to write my first Award-Winning Best-Selling novel, Beautiful Evil Winter. See: https://kellyklavenderauthor.com/beautiful-evil-winter-book/   In fact, all of my novels include horse sub themes and always will.

By the way, my horsey journey lowlights and highlights include:  4 Saddlebred lessons then a trail ride on a runaway stallion in an open field while my companion rode a mare – I didn’t know better. I ended up in the hospital. While recovering, I read Sports Psychology books to train my brain. See: That Winning Feeling! by Jane Savoie https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/that-winning-feeling-2 Undeterred – I returned to  Saddlebreds, showed and earned my first blue ribbon. Then, I switched to hunters. I took lessons at a Hunter Jumper barn where my budget horse drew snickers and negative attention. More than once, students gathered and watched to see the rodeo bronc busting spectacle that occurred when my surly trained Thoroughbred horse decided to buck me off. So what! I want to ride! I have faith. Defying long shot odds!

Running my race. One day, my lesson involved a mare named Tailor-Made. She and I formed an instant partnership. We shared a brain. Later, my trainer told that the only person that could ride her was the trainer’s wife. part of a successful powerhouse team that trained, showed and sold Hunters and Jumpers in the US. Devastated that I couldn’t afford to buy Tailor-Made, but I decided to keep going. At a different barn, I rode a hunter George Morris trained and placed second in an open 3’6″ competition. Under a trainer’s watchful eye, I jumped a single 5 foot with the same horse. Exhilarating, fun and rewarding!

Unfortunately, a tumble at 3’6″ convinced me to turn to dressage. No hospital stay, but I’m running my race. Then, I decide to study with a legendary tough trainer who also happens to be a judge. My first lesson included a double bridle and a mare. Ugh! I’d never ridden in a double bridle with double reins. I complained not about the mare but about the equipment. I felt over-faced. Other students watched. It wasn’t fair to the mare. Result after the lesson: the trainer tells me, “You have a lot of natural talent and skill. Come back.” Defying long shot odds again! Call me incredulous! Dumbfounded! I actually swiveled in the saddle to look around and behind me because I couldn’t believe she said that to me.

Now, as a dressage rider, I’ve ridden with Conrad Schumacher and one of his proteges. Heavenly! I’ve competed at Second Level Test Three when everything went wrong in a 105 degree outdoor setting. The trainer didn’t ride the horse the day before or in the class before as planned, a miscommunication about arrival time and a brief 5 minute warm-up, also unplanned. A flame of stress and uncertainty threatened to incinerate my plans. After all, I hadn’t shown in 20 years. Life gets in the way sometimes. A decision to be made – ride or not. Of course, I ride.

My clever chestnut mare decided she’d spook on the first loop of the three loop serpentine. Yikes! Knowing if I gave her an inch, she’d take a mile, I circled on the first loop. Running my race! Result: a solid qualifying score at Second Level Test Three under the worst of conditions! The test that “…separates the men from the boys.” Now, as I work toward medal goals after decades in the saddle, you can bet that I’m running my race undeterred – just the way Mom wanted it!  She’d revel in the challenges faced. She’d be overjoyed that I’m able-bodied and riding decades later. See you at the shows – win or lose!

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