This is my rough draft and I know it's not too good so I would really love some good constructive criticism and help. Thanks!
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. My first horse show
My alarm went off early that Saturday morning and I leapt out of bed. Today was finally the day that I had been looking forward to for months. I scrambled around my house making sure not to forget anything. I gathered my boots, show coat, breeches, helmet, show shirt, saddle, bridle, saddle pad, girth and tack box. After a quick breakfast, I hopped in the car and we left for the show.
During the car ride my mind was racing as I thought about all the time and effort I had put in to preparing for my first real horse show. The countless, exhausting, riding lessons that not only built up my strength and skill but also that of the three year mare I was riding. Not to mention the hours I spent cleaning my tack, making sure the saddle pad was the brightest white and all the leather shined like new. I also thought about how this was the first time I found myself truly dedicated to something. Horseback riding was the first sport I had actually stuck with. I had a long history of quitting when things began to get difficult. This was the hardest I had ever worked and I wanted it to pay off.
We arrived at the Jefferson County Fairgrounds after about an hour. I headed into a large, brightly lit barn where I knew Isabel would be. My boots clicked anxiously on the concrete floor as I peered in all of the sixty or so stalls lining the barn before I saw her. Isabel (Izzy for short) was in the very last stall in the far right corner. She peered at me though the bars with her round brown eyes and I could tell she was nervous too. She had been rescued from slaughter four months previous and I had been riding and training her ever since. She wasn't the most impressive looking horse. She was a short chestnut mare, powerfully built with a wide barrel and stocky legs. She had slightly larger that average head with a big white nose that was constantly searching for food. Though she was terribly lazy and incredibly sassy, when she didn't get her way, I loved her. Never had I clicked with a horse as much as I did with Izzy.
After grooming Izzy to perfection I neatly braiding her mane, tail and forelock. As I took her out of her stall she tentatively pranced left and right stepping on my feet a couple of times. I tried to keep her calm as we walked to the warm-up arena. I knew in order to keep her calm I had to remain calm myself. Unfortunately this was more easily said that done. I tried to keep the constant stream of what-ifs out of my mind with little success. What if she spooks? What if I fall? What if she gets hurt? What if I get hurt?I took a deep breath and got on.
I could fell her tension through the saddle mirroring my own. As we walked into the crowded warm-up arena I got my first look at the other competitors. They were intimidating with expensive tailored jackets and experienced horses. Then, Izzy spun on the spot and took off towards the gate. I managed to stop her by pulling her in a quick tight circle. Even after I regained control my nerves were still shaken. The familiar thoughts of quitting began entering my mind. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we just weren't ready.
I heard the call over the loud speaker for my class, walk/trot English Pleasure, to enter the arena. If I wanted to back out and quit now was the time. Instead, I steered Izzy into the crowded arena. The judge stood in the center of the arena carefully looking at each horse and rider. The fifteen , or so, horses circled around the judge like a real life carousel. They were all showing their best walks, elevating their front feet, with heads elegantly positioned on the vertical. "Trot your horses, everyone trot your horses" , said the announcer over the loud speaker. All of the horses proceeded to immediately trot obediently. That is all of the horses except Izzy. She dropped her head and took off bucking frantically. Each buck jarred me more and more out off the saddle. She came to a stop as I pulled her in another tight circle. After exciting the class I was upset and embarrassed but readied myself to enter the next class.
I took a moment before my third and final class to relax and think. My expectations for the show were originally to impress, show off and maybe even win a class. I set them too high. I should have instead focused on the small victories. I was a fourteen year old riding a very young horse in her first show. That's an accomplishment. So we entered the third class and final class with a positive attitude and the objective to just have fun.
Izzy seemed to sense my new found relaxation and responded better than I could have hoped. Finally she seemed like the calm, confident horse I had been working with for months. She walked, trotted and changed direction with grace and ease. Towards the end of the class she did throw in a buck. Despite, the small buck at the end we were awarded sixth place in a class of ten horses. This indeed was a small victory compared to the one I had expected. But, I had completed something very important to me and I felt truly successful. I learned that a success, no matter how small, can be used as motivation to keep up the hard work. I am still working hard and successfully showing Izzy today.
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you. My first horse show
My alarm went off early that Saturday morning and I leapt out of bed. Today was finally the day that I had been looking forward to for months. I scrambled around my house making sure not to forget anything. I gathered my boots, show coat, breeches, helmet, show shirt, saddle, bridle, saddle pad, girth and tack box. After a quick breakfast, I hopped in the car and we left for the show.
During the car ride my mind was racing as I thought about all the time and effort I had put in to preparing for my first real horse show. The countless, exhausting, riding lessons that not only built up my strength and skill but also that of the three year mare I was riding. Not to mention the hours I spent cleaning my tack, making sure the saddle pad was the brightest white and all the leather shined like new. I also thought about how this was the first time I found myself truly dedicated to something. Horseback riding was the first sport I had actually stuck with. I had a long history of quitting when things began to get difficult. This was the hardest I had ever worked and I wanted it to pay off.
We arrived at the Jefferson County Fairgrounds after about an hour. I headed into a large, brightly lit barn where I knew Isabel would be. My boots clicked anxiously on the concrete floor as I peered in all of the sixty or so stalls lining the barn before I saw her. Isabel (Izzy for short) was in the very last stall in the far right corner. She peered at me though the bars with her round brown eyes and I could tell she was nervous too. She had been rescued from slaughter four months previous and I had been riding and training her ever since. She wasn't the most impressive looking horse. She was a short chestnut mare, powerfully built with a wide barrel and stocky legs. She had slightly larger that average head with a big white nose that was constantly searching for food. Though she was terribly lazy and incredibly sassy, when she didn't get her way, I loved her. Never had I clicked with a horse as much as I did with Izzy.
After grooming Izzy to perfection I neatly braiding her mane, tail and forelock. As I took her out of her stall she tentatively pranced left and right stepping on my feet a couple of times. I tried to keep her calm as we walked to the warm-up arena. I knew in order to keep her calm I had to remain calm myself. Unfortunately this was more easily said that done. I tried to keep the constant stream of what-ifs out of my mind with little success. What if she spooks? What if I fall? What if she gets hurt? What if I get hurt?I took a deep breath and got on.
I could fell her tension through the saddle mirroring my own. As we walked into the crowded warm-up arena I got my first look at the other competitors. They were intimidating with expensive tailored jackets and experienced horses. Then, Izzy spun on the spot and took off towards the gate. I managed to stop her by pulling her in a quick tight circle. Even after I regained control my nerves were still shaken. The familiar thoughts of quitting began entering my mind. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we just weren't ready.
I heard the call over the loud speaker for my class, walk/trot English Pleasure, to enter the arena. If I wanted to back out and quit now was the time. Instead, I steered Izzy into the crowded arena. The judge stood in the center of the arena carefully looking at each horse and rider. The fifteen , or so, horses circled around the judge like a real life carousel. They were all showing their best walks, elevating their front feet, with heads elegantly positioned on the vertical. "Trot your horses, everyone trot your horses" , said the announcer over the loud speaker. All of the horses proceeded to immediately trot obediently. That is all of the horses except Izzy. She dropped her head and took off bucking frantically. Each buck jarred me more and more out off the saddle. She came to a stop as I pulled her in another tight circle. After exciting the class I was upset and embarrassed but readied myself to enter the next class.
I took a moment before my third and final class to relax and think. My expectations for the show were originally to impress, show off and maybe even win a class. I set them too high. I should have instead focused on the small victories. I was a fourteen year old riding a very young horse in her first show. That's an accomplishment. So we entered the third class and final class with a positive attitude and the objective to just have fun.
Izzy seemed to sense my new found relaxation and responded better than I could have hoped. Finally she seemed like the calm, confident horse I had been working with for months. She walked, trotted and changed direction with grace and ease. Towards the end of the class she did throw in a buck. Despite, the small buck at the end we were awarded sixth place in a class of ten horses. This indeed was a small victory compared to the one I had expected. But, I had completed something very important to me and I felt truly successful. I learned that a success, no matter how small, can be used as motivation to keep up the hard work. I am still working hard and successfully showing Izzy today.